CHAPTER IX.
Early in the morning, earlier even than I had supposed possible, theconductor's voice was heard announcing to somebody that we would be inNew Orleans in less than half an hour. I had been sleeping somewhatuneasily, curled up on one of the seats. I was dimly conscious of thefact that at some unknown hour in the night another telegram had beenreceived referring to Vinton, and that Miss Summers was wide awake whenit came. I remember Harrod's bending over and kissing her, and hearingthe words, "That is better yet." Then sleep again overpowered me. Now,at daybreak, I arose and gazed around the dimly-lighted car. MissSummers, Harrod, and Major Williams were the only occupants apparentlyastir. The former was sitting near the opened window; the cool, saltybreeze from the Gulf was playing with the ripples of fair hair thatclustered about her forehead. She looked very white and wan in theuncertain light, but there was a womanly tenderness and sweetness abouther face that made it inexpressibly lovely to me. She was gazingwistfully out over the sea of marsh and swamp, as though longing tobridge the distance that still separated us from the city, where he laybattling with that insidious enemy. Harrod and the major were in earnestconversation. Other occupants of the car were beginning to stiruneasily, as though warned that soon they must be up and doing; butKitty still slept, and the cloak of army blue still covered her. Mr.Turpin had disappeared.
A few moments more and the officers had been aroused; the men weredonning their belts and equipments; Pauline herself stepped forward,and, bending over her pretty cousin, roused her from her baby-likesleep; and glancing from the windows, I could see that we were rollingup the "Elysian Fields." Then came the curving sweep around on the broadlevee. All looked quiet, even deserted, as we passed the Mint and thewide thoroughfare of Esplanade Street. Some of the lamps still burneddimly in the _cafes_ and bars, but no trace of commotion or excitementcould be discerned. It was with some little surprise then that our eyesmet the warlike scene as we rolled into the station at the foot of CanalStreet.
The instant the train stopped, our car was boarded by an alert gentlemanin civilian dress whom I had often seen, and whom I knew to be anaide-de-camp on the staff of the commanding general. He came at once toMajor Williams; shook hands with him, and conveyed some orders in a lowtone of voice; then asked to be presented to Colonel Summers. MajorWilliams brought him to where our group of four was then standing, atthe rear of the car,--Miss Summers, Kitty, Harrod, and myself.
"Let me introduce Colonel Newhall, of General Emory's staff," he said,and the colonel, raising his hat in general salutation to the party,spoke in the hurried, nervous way I afterwards found was habitual withhim, despite the _sang-froid_ that distinguished him at all times savein the presence of ladies.
"I have come direct from Major Vinton's room, Colonel Summers, and amhappy to tell you that the doctors pronounce him much better. Thegeneral charged me to bring you the latest news of him, and to expressto you and to your ladies his warm interest and sympathy."
Then we had not come as strangers to a strange land. I glanced atPauline, as her brother, warmly grasping the staff-officer's hand,presented him to her and to Kitty. Her clear, brave eyes were suffusedwith tears and she did not venture to speak a word; but she wasinfinitely moved by the constantly recurring evidences of interest inher and her gallant lover. Such an informal announcement of anengagement perhaps was not strictly in accordance with the prevailingcustoms of society, but the exigencies of the case put all suchconsiderations aside. Everybody on our train knew the story of course,and it had evidently been telegraphed to headquarters. Meantime, MajorWilliams had been superintending the debarkation of his men, and theywere forming ranks on the platform outside. Beyond them, a long line ofstacked arms was guarded by sentries, and several companies of infantrywere grouped behind them, watching with professional interest thearrival of comrade soldiery. A number of officers had gathered at theside of the car,--very weary they looked too, and far from jaunty intheir dusty fatigue uniforms; but they were intent on welcoming MajorWilliams and his command, and at that hour in the morning, costume andunshaven chins were not subject to criticism. Time and again it had beenmy lot to be at this very station, but never before had I seen itthronged with troops. It was evident that matters of grave moment weregoing on in the city.
Colonel Newhall had left the car for a moment and Harrod came to me:
"It seems that Vinton is at Colonel Newhall's quarters on Royal Street,Mr. Brandon. He met the troop on its arrival in town, and finding Vintonwellnigh delirious with fever, had him taken at once to his lodgings.There are a number of vacant rooms, he tells me, and he has made allarrangements to take us right there; so there we will go. The St.Charles is crowded, and Pauline naturally wants to be near him. I thinkit the best arrangement that could possibly be made."
Even as he finished, the colonel came in to say that the carriage wasready. Harrod, Pauline, Kitty and I followed him to the platform. Thegroup of officers standing there courteously raised their forage-caps asour ladies passed them. Kitty looked furtively about her as she steppedfrom the car, and Mr. Turpin sprang forward to take her light satchel.It was but a few steps to the carriage. Pauline and Kitty were handedin. Summers and Colonel Newhall took their seats in the carriage. Weshook hands all round without saying much of anything, except that Ishould meet them later in the day; the driver cracked his whip, and awaythey went up Canal Street, Mr. Turpin and I gazing after them.
Even as we looked, there came trotting down the stone pavement towardsus a pair of cavalrymen. The one in front, tall, slender, erect, Irecognized at once as Frank Amory. The one in rear was evidently hisorderly. Never noticing the carriage, which had hurried off on theCustom-House side of the street, the former rode rapidly to the verypoint where we were standing. I saw Mr. Turpin look eagerly at him, thenspring forward.
"Sheep, old man, how are you?"
"Hello, Cyclone! when did you get here?" and throwing the reins to hisorderly, Frank Amory sprang from the saddle, and warmly grasped Mr.Turpin by the hand. The boys were classmates.
It was perhaps a minute before Amory noticed that I was standing there,so absorbed was he in greeting his comrade. The moment he caught sightof me, however, he stepped quickly forward. Quite a number of theyounger officers had gathered around by this time, and with heightenedcolor he looked eagerly in my face.
"When did you come? Who--who else came?" he asked, excitedly.
"We arrived only a few minutes ago," I said. "Miss Summers, Miss Kitty,and the colonel with me. They just drove off in that carriage. We are sorejoiced to hear Major Vinton is better."
"You don't say so!" he exclaimed, then stopped short, as though at aloss what to add. "I--I had no idea she--you could get here so soon.Vinton _is_ better, thank God! Where have they gone?"
"To Colonel Newhall's quarters," I answered. "It seems there are severalrooms, and the colonel says his landlady will take the best of care ofthem. Then they will be near him, which is something to be considered."
"Why, Sheep, did you know Colonel Summers and Miss Carrington?" broke inMr. Turpin, suddenly.
"Yes, quite well. I was stationed near them," was the answer, given withsome constraint.
Mr. Turpin stuck his hands deep in his pockets and said not anotherword. Other officers crowded about Mr. Amory to inquire for MajorVinton, and to ask for news. Presently Major Williams came up withColonel Starr, the commanding officer of the battalion that was "inbivouac" at the station, and I was presented to the latter. From them Ilearned something of the situation.
They had been on guard all night there at the station. What for theycould not exactly tell. It seems that one faction of the Legislatureoccupied the temporary State-House; another had its headquarters over aprominent bar-room in Royal Street; and a large concourse of citizenshad organized with military formalities and the avowed intention ofdislodging the factional Legislature from the house; installing aGovernor of their own choice; and subduing the police force of the city,now enrolled as a uniformed and fully-equipped b
attalion of infantry,with a battery of field-guns and a squadron of cavalry as assistants.The police held the various stations, and no encounter had taken place;but the citizens had turned out in great numbers, and the chances werethat they would prove too powerful for the mixed array of the policeforce; and trouble had been anticipated for that very night, but it hadnot come. A strong battalion of infantry was posted here at the railwaystation. Another, after a day of weary marching, was resting at a largecotton-press up the levee; two companies of cavalry were stationed atthe quartermaster's warehouse up in Magazine Street, near theheadquarters of the commanding general, and two foot batteries from anartillery regiment had spent the night in the State-House itself.Cavalry patrols had been scouting through the city all night, promptlyreporting any unusual gathering, but in no case interfering. Verilythese were strange accompaniments to the times of piping peace.
It was after seven o'clock when I reached my rooms. I was tired andought to have been sleepy after the long, rapid ride by rail, but themorning papers were full of exciting prophecy as to the events of theday, and sleep was out of the question. Amory had declined my invitationto breakfast, saying that he could not be away from his troop more thanfifteen minutes at a time, and had only managed to get down to thestation while out looking after his patrols. A bath and a change ofraiment proved refreshing. Then I took a car; rode to Canal Street;walked down Royal to Colonel Newhall's lodgings; met one of the doctors,who assured me that Major Vinton was doing very well, and that laterthey hoped he might be well enough to see Miss Summers. He was stillflighty and had no idea of his whereabouts. The ladies were up-stairsresting. Would I see them? No, I preferred not to disturb them, and sowent off by myself to breakfast at my usual haunt, Moreau's. The roomwas already well filled when I entered. Most of the tables wereoccupied, many of them by prominent citizens. Much earnest talk wasgoing on in subdued tones, and there was an air of suppressed excitementthat was noticeable to the most careless observer. Two of the tableswere occupied by a party of infantry officers whom I had seen at thestation, and it was noticeable that within earshot of them little wasbeing said in reference to "the situation." I had several acquaintancesamong the business men present, and took a seat near them. The firstwords that fell upon my ears were,--
"And it will be done to-night, you may depend upon it."
"But do you suppose that General Emory will stand by and allow such athing to go on under his very nose?"
"General Emory can't help himself, sir. His orders from Washington donot permit him to act unless called upon by the marshal or by the Stateauthorities. The whole thing will be over and done with before they canmake their demand, and our people will have dispersed before the troopsget there."
"But suppose they get wind of it and call upon him to station his men tomeet the move?"
"Why, that ends it, of course. We are helpless in that case. We don'tmean to raise a finger against the general government. Let him send acorporal's guard to any one of the places and it's safe; but as for thisinfernal mottled police----"
"Steady!"
And then both speakers looked up at the party of infantry officers, whohad risen and were quietly leaving. Then they looked at me, and the restof the conversation was in too low a tone for any one to hear.
The day was one of restless anxiety, yet of apparent quiet and order.The broad "banquette" of Canal Street was thronged with ladies andchildren as is customary on bright afternoons. The matinees at theVarieties and the St. Charles Theatre were crowded. At half-past four,as I strolled up the street under the friendly shade of the awnings,that made the wide sidewalks one long arcade, I was struck by theperfectly peaceful aspect of the scene. From the Custom-House to RampartStreet, on the lower side of the way, I did not see a policeman, muchless a soldier in uniform; but at all the corners, the knots ofunoccupied men were much larger than usual; this being especially thecase around Dumonteil's and Lopez's confectioneries, and the well-knownestablishment of "Dr. Sample."
On the opposite side and grouped around the brown-stone building of theShakespeare Club, half a dozen men in civilian dress were lolling about,and less than one hundred yards up Dryades Street, as many more weresitting or standing around the entrance of the massive Mechanics'Institute, now used as a State-House and place of meeting of one atleast of the rival Legislatures; but there was nothing in its exteriorto indicate the state of siege as described in the daily press. In all,there might have been one hundred loungers scattered from Victor'smarble-columned restaurant on the lower side down to "Dr. Sample's," inthe middle of the next block; but absolute quiet and order reigned. Someof the windows in the second story of the Institute were open, andoccasionally the features of some colored legislator could be seenpeering curiously and cautiously out towards Canal Street.
Now that demon of curiosity that has always possessed me, prompted me tostroll across the broad thoroughfare and to approach the entrance ofDryades Street. As a neutral, I felt serenely confident that neitherside would take exceptions to my movements, but looking behind me as Ireached the car-tracks, I saw that the listless loungers on thebanquette had crowded forward to its edge, and were watching me withinterest. Keeping on, however, I soon reached the upper side, anddeliberately walked ahead as though bent on going to the State-House.The instant I got beyond the Canal Street pavement, however, one of themen I had noticed at the upper corner stepped quickly in front of me andsaid,--
"Pardon me, Mr. Brandon, where did you wish to go?" Then, seeing my lookof surprise, he smilingly added, "Of course I know you, sir, though youdo not know me; I'm a detective."
"Why," said I, "if there be no objections, I would like to go to theState-House, just to see what is going on."
"I'm sorry, sir," was the civil reply; "at this moment our orders are toadmit nobody."
Now, I hated to go back. I knew well that all those estimablefellow-citizens of mine on the other side were watching the scene, andthat they would be sure to hold me in lighter estimation if I had toretire. I put a bold face on the matter and whipped out my card-case.
"There are two batteries of foot artillery in there, I'm told, and amongtheir officers is a gentleman whom I used to know in New York and wouldlike to see. Can you send this to him?" I hastily scrawled "Late N. Y.7th Regt." under my name. The detective took the card; whistled to a boywho stood near; the youngster seized it and was off like a shot; whilemy detective and I walked slowly towards the building. Before we reachedthe stone steps, a fine-looking fellow in the fatigue uniform of theUnited States artillery came out and looked inquiringly around. Istepped forward at once and introduced myself; was most courteouslygreeted and invited to walk in; the police official smilingly nodded"All right now," and, guided by the lieutenant, I entered the mysteriousportals of the besieged halls of government.
It was an extraordinary sight that met my eyes. Grouped inside thevestibule, where they could not be seen from Canal Street, or indeedfrom any point on Dryades except directly in front, were some fiftyMetropolitan police in complete uniform and the equipments of infantrysoldiers; belts, cartridge-boxes, bayonet-scabbards, and all. Theirofficers, with drawn swords and wearing shoulder-straps like those ofthe regular service, were gathered in front. Stacks of Winchester riflesstood close by, many of the men having their muskets still in theirhands. All the lower hall and the staircases were crowded with theseimprovised troops, some white, some colored, there being white men inthe rank and file, and colored men among the officers. All were veryquiet, orderly, and apparently well disciplined. Some of those who wereseated on the stairway rose rather slowly to make way for us, and acolored officer in the shoulder-straps of a captain spoke in a quick,sharp tone to them; and, black and white, they sprang to their feet andrespectfully drew aside. At the head of the stairs were sentries and anofficer of the guard, all in police uniform, and they saluted myartillery guide with all the precision of regulars.
"Would you like to look in at your Legislature?" asked he, with amischievous grin. I assented. The offic
er of the guard opened a door,and we found ourselves in an inner hall or vestibule. Here we came upona dozen colored men surrounding a low wooden counter or table coveredwith pies, cakes, sandwiches, and fruit. Behind the counter sat an oldnegress in vehement expostulation.
"It's no use talkin', gen'lemen, you's just wastin' yo' time. Las' yearI done trus' de gen'lemen of de Senate an' Representives, an' dey ain'tpaid me yit."
"But fo' de Lawd's sake, Mis' Fontelieu, I ain't had nuffin to eat senceday befo' yis'day mawnin', an' I's starvin', I is. Yo' ought ter havesome consideration fo' gen'lemen of de Legislature what's sufferin' herefo' you an' de people. Soon's we done git our salaries we's goin' to payyou fus' thing. Ain't we, gen'lemen?" said the spokesman appealingly tohis brother Solons.
"Of co'se we is, Mis' Fontelieu," was the chorus, but all to nopurpose. Miss Fontelieu's experiences with previous Legislatures andlegislators had undermined her faith in the stability of their financialcondition, and nothing but cash in hand would induce her to part withany of her stock in trade.
"I'd buy them a breakfast myself," said my lieutenant, laughingly, "forI know very well that they have had nothing to eat except what theycould pick up here; but we contributed all our spare greenbacksyesterday, and they'd be just as hungry by ten o'clock to-night."
We pushed on through the lobby and entered the main room, the temporaryhall of representatives, and here another odd sight greeted our eyes.
The room was large, rectangular in shape; a raised platform being at thefarther end; rows of cane-bottomed chairs were arranged in semicircularorder across the hall; a desk for the presiding officer was on theplatform; and tables and desks for clerks and reporters stood below it.Scattered in groups all about the room were upwards of an hundred men,some white, some colored, stretched at length upon the chairs, otherswere lying asleep. The instant we entered, conversation ceased, and alllooked eagerly and inquiringly at my companion; even some of therecumbent figures straightened up and gazed at him. Several steppedforward from the nearest group and asked if there were any news,receiving with evident disappointment his civil reply that he had heardnothing.
"They have been cooped up here for nearly forty-eight hours," thelieutenant explained. "You see, they've just got a quorum, and theGovernor knows blessed well that if they once get out, the chances areten to one they'll never get back. Either the other crowd will mob them,or, in fear of the attack on the State-House, they will keep in hidingsomewhere around town."
The Governor, with his officers, was in his private room down-stairs, myfriend explained; and the Senate was likewise blockaded in another partof the building; and this was the shape in which one Governor, at least,of the sovereign State of Louisiana was "holding the fort" against allwould-be adversaries.
Then we left the hall of unwilling representatives; clambered anotherflight of stairs, and came upon what the local press had not inaptlytermed "the citadel." Here, in an upper room, half a dozen officers ofartillery of the regular service were killing time, reading, writing, ordozing; and most disgusted they looked with their occupation. On beingpresented to the commanding officer and his comrades I was courteouslygreeted and invited to make myself at home, "if," said the major, "youcan find any comfort in the situation. I've only once in my life beenon more distasteful duty, and that was when we were sent to break upillicit distilleries in Brooklyn."
Their orders, I learned, were that both officers and men should remainin the State-House, and not leave, even for meals, which were to be sentfrom a neighboring restaurant; and there they had been for two nightsand days, in readiness to defend the place if attacked, yet having everyassurance that so long as there remained a "regular" soldier in thebuilding it would not be molested. No wonder they yawned and lookedbored to death; and my proffer of services was gladly accepted. "Send usanything you may have in the way of reading matter, and we'll be onlytoo thankful," was the major's half-laughing, half-rueful reply, andafter an hour's chat I left. The lieutenant accompanied me to theentrance, where he bade me good-by. The knot of detectives drew asideand passed me out without remark. Once more I crossed Canal Street, andin an instant found myself surrounded by a bevy of eager reporters,note-book and pencil in hand, clamoring for information. From theobscurity of yesterday, Mr. G. S. Brandon had suddenly leaped intoprominence.