CHAPTER V.
ON THE TRAIL.
I need not dwell at much length upon our visit to San Francisco, sincenothing important to the success of our enterprise came of it. From thehour we entered the Golden Gate till we departed through it, I wasrestless with a solicitude which made me nervous and sleepless,destroyed my appetite, and blinded me to half the novelties of SanFrancisco, with its unparalleled growth and hybrid civilization. I gavethe most of my time to two objects--looking, by night, into all thebad, popular, or out-of-the-way dens, haunts, saloons, theaters andhotels, scanning every one of the thousands of strange faces, for thatone sinister countenance, which I felt that I could know at aglance--and in the endeavor to identify the man who had disposed of thePark Bank bill to the Express Company.
I was rewarded, for days of research, by ascertaining, finally, andbeyond doubt, that a gentleman of respectability, a Spaniard, stillresiding in the city, had offered the bill to be discounted at the timeit had been accepted by the company. I made the acquaintance of theSpanish gentleman, and, with a delicacy of address upon which Iflattered myself, I managed to learn, without being too impertinent,that he had obliged a fellow-passenger, two years previously, who wasgetting off at Acapulco, and who desired gold for his paper money, withthe specie, and had taken of him some two or three thousand dollars ofNew York currency, which he had disposed of to the Express Company.
Burton was right, then! My heart leaped to my throat as the gentlemanmentioned Acapulco. From that moment I felt less fear of failure, butmore, if possible, intense curiosity and anxiety.
It had been my intention to proceed to Sacramento in search of thehaunting face which was forever gliding before my mind's eye; but,after this revelation, I gladly yielded to the belief that Mr. Burtonwould find the face before I did; and, in the relief consequent uponthis hope, I began to give more heed to his injunction, to do my partof the duty by taking good care of his child.
Lenore was in rising health and spirits, and when I began to exertmyself to help her pass away the time, she grew very happy. Theconfiding dependence of childhood is its most affecting trait. It wasenough for her that her father had given her to me for the present; shefelt safe and joyous, and made all those little demands upon myattention which a sister asks of an older brother. I could hardlyrealize that she was nearly thirteen years of age, she remained sosmall and slender, and was so innocently childlike in her manners andfeelings. Her attendant was one of those active women who like nothingso much as plenty of business responsibility; the trip, to her, wasfull of the kind of excitement she preferred; the entire charge of thelittle maiden intrusted to her care, was one of the most delightfulaccidents that ever happened to her; I believe she rejoiced daily inthe absence of Mr. Burton, simply because it added to the importance ofher duties.
But I was glad when the fortnight's long delay was over, and we werereembarked upon our journey. My mind lived in advance of the hour,dwelling upon the moment when I should either see, awaiting us on thedock, where he had promised to meet us, at the isthmus, the familiarform of the good genius of our party, or--that blank which wouldannounce tidings of fatal evil.
We glided prosperously over the rounded swells of the Pacific, throughsunshiny days, and nights of brilliant moonlight. Through the softevenings, Lenore, well wrapped in shawls and hood by her faithfulwoman, remained with me upon deck, sometimes until quite late, singing,one after another, those delicious melodies never more subtly,understandingly rendered, than by this small spirit of song. Raptcrowds would gather, at respectful distances, to listen; but she sungfor my sake, and for the music's, unheeding who came or went.Sometimes, even now, I wake at night from a dream of that voyage, withthe long wake of glittering silver following the ship, as if a millionPeris, in their boats of pearl, were sailing after us, drawn on by theenchantment of the pure voice which rose and fell between stars and sea.
The last twenty-four hours before reaching the isthmus witnessed achange in the long stretch of brilliant weather common at that seasonof the year. Torrents of rain began to fall, and continued hour afterhour, shutting us in the cabin, and surrounding us with a gray wall,which was as if some solid world had closed us in, and we werenevermore to see blue sky, thin air, or the sharp rays of the sun.
Lenore, wearied of the monotony, at length fell asleep on one of thesofas; and I was glad to have her quiet, for she had been restless atthe prospect of seeing her father early the next morning. It wasexpected the steamer would reach her dock some time after midnight. Asthe hours of the day and evening wore on, I grew so impatient as tofeel suffocated by the narrow bounds of the ship, and the close, graytent of clouds. Lenore went early to her state-room. I then borrowed awaterproof cloak from one of the officers of the vessel, and walked thedecks the whole night, in the driving rain, for I could not breathe inmy little room. It was so possible, so probable, that harm had befallenthe solitary detective, setting forth, "a stranger in a strange land,"upon his dangerous errand, that I blamed myself bitterly for yieldingto his wishes, and allowing him to remain at Acapulco. In order tocomfort myself, I recalled his ability to cope with danger--hisphysical strength, his unshaken coolness of nerve and mind, hiscalmness of purpose and indomitable will, before which the wills ofother men were broken like reeds by a strong wind. The incessant rainrecalled two other memorable nights to me; and the association did notserve to make me more cheerful. There was no wind whatever, with therain; the captain assured me, after I had asked him often enough to vexa less question-inured officer, for the twentieth time, that we were"all right"--"not a half-hour after time"--"would arrive at the isthmusat two o'clock, A.M., precisely, and I might go to bed in peace, and beready to get up early in the morning."
I had no idea of going to bed. The passengers were not to be disturbeduntil daylight; but I was too anxious to think of sleep; I said tomyself that if Mr. Burton was as impatient as myself, he would, despitethe storm and the late hour, be upon the dock awaiting our arrival; andif so, he should not find me slumbering. As we neared our landing, Icrowded in among the sailors at the forward part of the boat, andstrained my eyes through the gloom to the little twinkle of light givenout by the lamps along the quay. As usual, there was considerable stirand noise, upon the arrival of the steamer, shouts from the ship andshore, and a bustle of ropes and swearing of sailors. The passengersgenerally were snug in their berths, where they remained until morning.In a few moments the ropes were cast ashore and we were moored to ourdock. I leaned over the gunwale and peered through the mist; the rainhad kindly ceased descending, for the time; various lamps and lanternsglimmered along the wharf, where some persons were busy about theirwork, pertaining to the arrival of the ship; but I looked in vain forMr. Burton.
Disappointed, despondent, I still reconnoitered the various groups,when a loud, cheery voice called out,
"Richard, halloo!"
I experienced a welcome revulsion of feeling as these pleasant tonesstartled me to the consciousness that Mr. Burton had emerged from theshadow of a lamp-post, against which he had been leaning, and was nowalmost within shaking-hands distance. I could have laughed or cried,whichever happened, as I recognized the familiar voice and form.Presently he was on the vessel. The squeeze I gave his hand, when wemet, must have been severe, for he winced under it. I scarcely neededto say--"You have been successful!" or he to answer; there was a lighton his face which assured me that at least he had not entirely failed.
"I have much, much to tell you, Richard. But first about my darling--isshe well--happy?"
"Both. We have not had an accident. You will be surprised to seeLenore, she has improved so rapidly. My heart feels a thousand poundslighter than it did an hour ago."
"Why so?"
"Oh, I was so afraid you had not got away from Acapulco."
"You do look pale, that's a fact, Richard--as if you had not slept fora week. Let your mind rest in quiet, my friend. _All is right._ Thetrip has not been wasted. Now le
t God give us favoring breezes home,and two years of honest effort shall be rewarded. Justice shall bedone. The wicked in high places shall be brought low."
He always spoke as if impressed with an awful sense of hisresponsibility in bringing the iniquities of the favored rich to light;and on this occasion his expression was unusually earnest.
"Where is my little girl? What is the number of her state-room? I wouldlike to steal a kiss before she wakes; but I suppose that careful Mariehas the door bolted and barred; so I will not disturb them. It is threewhole hours to daylight yet. I can tell you the whole story of myadventures in that time, and I suppose you have a right to hear it assoon as possible. I will not keep you in suspense. Come into the cabin."
We found a quiet corner, where, in the "wee sma' hours," by the dimlight of the cabin-lamps, now nearly out, I listened, it is needless tosay with what painful interest, to the account of Mr. Burton's visit inMexico. I will give the history here, as he gave it, with the samereservations which, it was evident, he still made in talking with me.
These reservations--which I could not fail to perceive he hadfrequently made, since the beginning of our acquaintance, and which,the reader will recollect, had at times excited my indignation--puzzledand annoyed me; but there was soon to come a time when I understood andappreciated them.
On that day of our outward voyage, when the ship was detained to land aportion of her passengers at Acapulco, Mr. Burton, restless at thedelay, was leaning over the deck-rails, thrumming impatiently with hisfingers, when his attention became gradually absorbed in theconversation of a group of Mexicans at his elbow, several of whom wereof the party about to land. They spoke the corrupted Spanish of theircountry; but the listener understood it well enough to comprehend themost of what was said.
One of their number was describing a scene which occurred upon hislanding at this same port some two years previous. The ship, bound forSan Francisco, met with an accident, and put into Acapulco for repairs.The passengers knowing the steamer would not sail under twenty-fourhours, the most of them broke the monotony of the delay by going onshore. A number of rough New Yorkers, going out to the mines, got intoa quarrel with some of the natives, during which knives, pistols, etc.,were freely used. A gentleman, named Don Miguel, the owner of a largeand valuable _hacienda_ which lay about thirty miles from Acapulco, andwho had just landed from the steamer, attempted, imprudently, tointerfere, not wishing his countrymen to be so touchy with theirvisitors, and was rewarded for his good intentions by receiving asevere stab in the side from one of the combatants. He bled profusely,and would soon have become exhausted, had not his wound beenimmediately and well dressed by a young American, one of the New Yorkpassengers, who had landed to see the sights, and was standing idly toone side, viewing the _melee_ at the time Don Miguel was injured. TheDon, exceedingly grateful for the timely attention, conceived a warmliking for the young man, whose "Yankee" quickness and readiness hadattracted his attention while on board the steamer. Having given suchproof of his fitness for the place as he had done by dressing the Don'swound, that gentleman, in the course of the two or three hours in whichthe young stranger remained in attendance upon him, offered him thesituation of physician upon his immense estates, with the plain promisethat he should receive benefits much more important than his salary.This offer, after a short hesitation, was accepted by the doctor, whostated that he was out in search of his fortune, and it made nodifference to him where he found it, whether in Mexico or California,only that he should be assured of doing well. This Don Miguel, in hissudden friendship, was prompt to promise. The Don, besides vast grazingfarms, had extensive interests in the silver mines which bordered uponhis _hacienda_. Doctor Seltzer was deeply interested in an account ofthese, and returned to the ship for his baggage, bidding hisfellow-passengers good-by, in excellent spirits. "And well he mightconsider himself fortunate," continued the narrator, "for there arenone of us who do not feel honored by the friendship of Don Miguel, whois as honorable as he is wealthy. For my part, I do not understand howhe came to place such confidence in the 'Yankee' doctor, who had to methe air of an adventurer; but he took him to his home, made him amember of his family, and before I left Acapulco, I heard that DonMiguel had given him for a wife his only daughter, a beautiful girl,who could have had her choice of the proudest young bloods in thisregion."
It may be imagined with what interest Mr. Burton listened to the storythus unconsciously revealed by the chatty Mexican. He at once, as byprescience, saw his man in this fortunate Dr. Seltzer, who hadregistered his name Mr., not Dr., on the passenger-list, and which namewas among those that the detective had selected as suspicious.
(I interrupted my friend's narrative here to explain the matter of thebank-notes which he had exchanged for specie with a passenger, butfound that Mr. Burton already knew all about them.)
Edging gradually into the conversation, Mr. Burton, with his tact andexperience, was not long in drawing from the group a description of thepersonal appearance of Dr. Seltzer, along with all the facts andconjectures relating to his history since his connection with DonMiguel. Everything he heard made "assurance doubly sure;" and there wasno time to be lost in deciding upon the course to be pursued in thisunexpected doubling of the chase. To get off at Acapulco was a matterof course; but what to do with the remainder of his party he could notat first determine. He knew that I would be eager to accompany him; yethe feared that, in some way, should we all land and take rooms at anyof the hotels, the wily Doctor Seltzer, doubtless always on the alert,might perceive some cause for alarm, and secure safety by flight. To goalone, under an assumed name, in the character of a scientific explorerof mines, seemed to him the surest and most discreet method of nearingthe game; and to this resolve he had come before he sought us out toannounce his intention of stopping at Acapulco, while leaving us topursue our voyage without him.