The Red City: A Novel of the Second Administration of President Washington
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XXI
At noon next day a tired rider left his horse at an inn in Perth Amboyand boarded the sloop which was to take him to New York, if tide andwind served. Both at this time were less good to him than usual, and hedrifted the rest of the afternoon and all night on the bay.
At length, set ashore on the Battery, he was presently with a merchant,in those days of leisurely ventures altogether a large personage,merchant and ship-master, capable, accurate, enterprising, something ofthe great gentleman, quick to perceive a slight and at need to avengeit, a lost type to-day--a Dutch cross on Huguenot French. Mr. NicholasGouverneur was glad to see once more the Vicomte de Courval. His ownpeople, too, had suffered in other days for their religion, and ifRene's ancestors had paid in the far past unpleasant penalties for therespectable crime of treason to the king, had not one of Mr.Gouverneur's ancestors had a similar distinction, having been hanged forhigh treason? "Ah, of course he told you the story, Rene," said Schmidtwhen he heard of this interview.
Mr. Gouverneur, having offered the inevitable hospitality of hissideboard, was in no hurry.
Rene, although in hot haste to be done with his strange errand, knewbetter than to disturb the formalities of welcome. He must inquire afterMrs. Gouverneur, and must answer for his mother. At last his host said:"You do small justice to my rum, Vicomte. It is as unused to neglect asany young woman. But, pardon me, you look tired, and as if you had madea hard journey. I see that you are anxious and too polite to interrupt agarrulous man. What can I do for you or our friend Schmidt!"
"I have this packet of papers which should go at once to the corvette_Jean Bart_. One Francois-Guillaume Need is the Captain."
"And I have been delaying you. Pray pardon me. Despatches, I suppose,for my cousin Gouverneur Morris." Rene did not contradict him. "We willsee to it at once, at once. The _Jean Bart_ sails to-night, I hear. Shehas waited, we knew not why."
"For these despatches, sir. Can I not be set aboard of her at once?"
"Surely," said Gouverneur; "come with me."
As they walked toward the water Mr. Gouverneur said: "You have, I thinkyou told me, a despatch for the captain of the corvette. Let me urgentlyadvise you not to board that vessel. My boat shall take you to theship,--deliver your despatch,--but let nothing tempt you to set foot onher deck. We are not on very good terms with France; you are still aFrench citizen. Several of the corvette's officers have been inPhiladelphia. If you are recognized as a French noble, you will neversee America again. You know what fate awaits an emigre in Paris; noteven your position in the Department of State would save you."
De Courval returned: "You are no doubt right, sir. I had already thoughtof the risk--"
"There need be none if you are prudent."
"But I ought to receive a receipt for the papers I deliver."
"That is hardly needed--unusual, I should say; Mr. Randolph willscarcely expect that."
De Courval was not inclined to set the merchant right in regard to thecharacter of the despatches, for it might then be necessary to tell thewhole story. He made no direct reply, but said merely: "I am mostgrateful--I shall have the honor to take your advice. Ah, here is theboat."
"It is my own barge," said Gouverneur. "Be careful. Yonder is thecorvette, a short pull. I shall wait for you here."
In a few minutes De Courval was beside the gangway of the corvette. Hecalled to a sailor on the deck that he wished to see an officer.Presently a young lieutenant came down the steps. De Courval said inFrench, as he handed the officer the packet of papers:
"This is a despatch, Citizen, from Citizen Minister Fauchet, addressedto the care of your captain. Have the kindness to give it to him and askfor a receipt."
The lieutenant went on deck and very soon returned.
"The receipt, please," said De Courval.
"Captain Need desires me to say that, although it is unusual to give areceipt for such papers, he will do so if you will come to the cabin. Hewishes to ask questions about the British cruisers, and may desire tosend a letter to Citizen Minister Fauchet."
"I cannot wait. I am in haste to return," said De Courval.
"_Le diable_, Citizen! He will be furious. We sail at once--at once; youwill not be delayed."
Rene thought otherwise.
"Very well; I can but give your reply. It seems to me strange. You willhear of it some day, Citizen."
As soon as the officer disappeared, Rene said to his boatman: "Quick!Get away--get me ashore as soon as you can!"
Pursuit from a man-of-war boat was possible, if one lay ready on thefarther side of the corvette. He had, however, only a ten minutes' rowbefore he stood beside Mr. Gouverneur on the Battery slip.
"I am a little relieved," said the older man. "Did you get theacknowledgment of receipt you wanted?"
"No, sir. It was conditioned upon my going aboard to the captain'scabin."
"Ah, well, I do not suppose that Mr. Randolph will care."
"Probably not." Rene had desired some evidence of his singular mission,but the immense importance of it as proof of his good faith was not atthe time fully apprehended. The despatch had gone on its way, and he haddone honorably his enemy's errand.
"And now," said the merchant, "let us go to my house and see Mrs.Gouverneur, and above all have dinner."
Rene had thought that flight might be needed if he carried out his fatalpurpose, and he had therefore put in his saddle-bags enough garments toreplace the muddy dress of a hard ride. He had said that he must leaveat dawn, and having laid aside the cares of the last days, he gavehimself up joyously to the charm of the refined hospitality of hishosts.
As they turned away, the corvette was setting her sails and the cries ofthe sailors and the creak of the windlass showed the anchor was beingraised. Before they had reached Gouverneur's house she was under way,with papers destined to make trouble for many.
As Rene lay at rest that night within the curtained bed, no man onManhattan Island could have been more agreeably at ease with his world.The worry of indecision was over. He felt with honest conviction thathis prayer for the downfall of his enemy had been answered, and in thiscooler hour he knew with gratitude that his brute will to kill had beenwisely denied its desire. It had seemed to him at the time that to acton his instinct was only to do swift justice on a criminal; but he hadbeen given a day to reflect and acknowledged the saner wisdom of themorrow.
Further thought should have left him less well pleased at what thefuture might hold for him. But the despatch had gone, his errand wasdone. An image of Margaret in the splendor of brocade and lace hauntedthe dreamy interval between the waking state and the wholesome sleep oftired youth. Moreover, the good merchant's Madeira had its power ofsomnolent charm, and, thus soothed, De Courval passed into a world ofvisionless slumber.
He rode back through the Jerseys to avoid Bristol and the scene of hisencounter, and, finding at Camden a flat barge returning toPhiladelphia, was able, as the river was open and free of ice, to gethis horse aboard and thus to return with some renewal of anxiety to Mrs.Swanwick's house. No one was at home; but Nanny told him that Mr.Schmidt, who had been absent, had returned two days before, but was out.Miss Margaret was at the Hill, and June, the cat, off for two days onlove-affairs or predatory business.
He went up-stairs to see his mother. Should he tell her? On the whole,it was better not to speak until he had seen Schmidt. He amused her withan account of having been sent to New York on business and then spoke ofthe Gouverneur family and their Huguenot descent. He went away satisfiedthat he had left her at ease, which was not quite the case. "Somethinghas happened," she said to herself. "By and by he will tell me. Is itthe girl? I trust not. Or that man? Hardly."
The supper passed in quiet, with light talk of familiar things, thevicomtesse, always a taciturn woman, saying but little.
As De Courval sat down, her black dress, the silvery quiet of Mrs.Swanwick's garb, her notably gentle voice, the simple room withoutcolors, the sanded floor, the spotless cleanliness of the
tablefurniture, of a sudden struck him as he thought of the violence andanger of the scene on the Bristol road. What would this gentle Friendsay, and the Pearl? What, indeed!
Supper was just over when, to Rene's relief, Schmidt appeared. He noddedcoolly to Rene and said, laughing: "Ah, Frau Swanwick, I have not had achance to growl; but when I go again to the country, I shall take Nanny.I survive; but the diet!" He gave an amusing account of it. "Pork--it isbecause of the unanimous pig. Pies--ach!--cabbage, a sour woman and sourbread, chicken rigged with hemp and with bosoms which need not stays."Even the vicomtesse smiled. "I have dined at Mr. Morris's, to my relief.Come, Rene, let us smoke."
When once at ease in his room, he exclaimed: "_Potstausend_, Rene, I amout of debt. The years I used to count to be paid are settled. Two days'watching that delirious swine and bottling up the gossiping little demonChovet! A pipe, a pipe, and then I shall tell you."
"Indeed, I have waited long."
"Chovet told Fauchet at my request of this regrettable affair. He isuneasy, and he well may be, concerning all there is left of hissecretary."
"Then he is alive," said Rene; "and will he live?"
"Alive? Yes, very much alive, raving at times like a madman haunted byhell fiends. I had to stay. After a day he was clear of head, but asweak as a man can be with the two maladies of a ball in a palsiedshoulder and a doctor looking for it. Yes, he will live; and alive ordead will make mischief."
"Did he talk to you?"
"Yes. He has no memory of my coming at the time he was shot. I think hedid not see me at all."
"Well, what else?"
"I told him the whole story, and what I had seen him do. I was plain,too, and said that I had found his despatch, and you, being a gentleman,must needs see that it went. He saw, I suspect, what other motive youhad--if he believed me at all."
"But did he believe you? Does he?"
"No, he does not. I said, 'You are scamp enough to swear that we set onyou to steal your papers, a fine tale for our Jacobin mobocrats.' Afellow can't lie with his whole face. I saw his eyes narrow, but I toldhim to try it if he dared, and out comes my tale of his treachery. Wemade a compact at last, and he will swear he was set upon and robbed. Ileft him to invent his story. But it is plainly his interest to keepfaith, and not accuse you."
"He will not keep faith. Sometime he will lie about me. The despatch hasgone by the _Jean Bart_, but that part of our defense is far to reach."
"Well, Chovet is gold dumb, and as for the Jacobin, no man can tell. Ifhe be wise, he will stick to his tale of highwaymen. Of course I askedChovet to let the minister learn of this sad accident, but he did notarrive until after I had the fellow well scared."
"Is that all?"
"No. The man is in torment. Damn! if I were in pain like that, I shouldkill myself. Except that fever, I never had anything worse than astomachache in all my life. The man is on the rack, and Chovet declaresthat he will never use the arm again, and will have some daily reminderof you so long as he lives. Now, Rene, a man on the rack may come to saythings of the gentleman who turned on the torture."
"Then some day he will lie, and I, _mon Dieu_, will be ruined. Who willbelieve me? The State Department will get the credit of it, and I shallbe thrown over--sacrificed to the wolves of party slander."
"Not if I am here."
"If you are here?"
"Yes. At any time I may have to go home."
"Then let us tell the whole story."
"Yes, if we must; but wait. Why go in search of trouble? For a time,perhaps always, he will be silent. Did you get a receipt for thedespatch?"
"No. The captain would not give one unless I went to his cabin and thatI dared not do."
"I, as the older man, should have pointed out to you the need of usingevery possible means to get an acknowledgment from the captain; but youwere right. Had you gone on board the ship, you would never have lefther. Well, then there is more need to play a silent, waiting game untilwe know, as we shall, of the papers having reached their destination. Infact, there is nothing else to do. There will be a nice fuss over thepapers, and then it will all be forgotten."
"Yes, unless he speaks."
"If he does, there are other cards in my hand. Meanwhile, being a goodSamaritan, I have again seen Carteaux. He will, I think, be silent for awhile. Be at ease, my son; and now I must go to bed. I am tired."
This was one of many talks; none of them left Rene at ease. How could heas yet involve a woman he loved in his still uncertain fate! He was byno means sure that she loved him; that she might come to do so he feltto be merely possible, for the modesty of love made him undervaluehimself and see her as far beyond his deserts. His mother's prejudicestroubled him less. Love consults no peerage and he had long ago ceasedto think as his mother did of a title which had no legal existence.
It was natural enough that an event as grave as this encounter withCarteaux should leave on a young man's mind a deep impression; nor hadhis talk with Schmidt, the night before, enabled him, as next day hewalked to the State Department, to feel entirely satisfied. The news ofthe highway robbery had been for two days the city gossip, and alreadythe gazettes were considering it in a leisurely fashion; but as nojournals reached the widow's house unless brought thither by Schmidt,the amenities of the press in regard to the assault and theadministration were as yet unseen by De Courval. On the steps of theDepartment of State he met the Marquis de Noailles, who greeted himcheerfully, asking if he had read what Mr. Bache and the "Aurora" saidof the attack on Carteaux.
Rene felt the cold chill of too conscious knowledge as he replied: "Notyet, Marquis. I am but yesterday come from New York."
"Well, it should interest Mr. Randolph. It does appear to Mr. Bache thatno one except the English party and the Federals could profit by thetheft. How they could be the better by the gossip of this _sacre_Jacobin actor in the role of a minister the _bon Dieu_ alone knows."
Rene laughed. "You are descriptive, Marquis."
"Who would not be? But, my dear De Courval, you must regret that youwere not the remarkable highwayman who stole Fauchet's eloquence andleft a gold watch and seals; but here comes Mr. Randolph. He may explainit; at all events, if he confides to you the name of that robber, sendthe man to me. I will pay five dollars apiece for Jacobin scalps._Adieu._ My regrets that you are not the man."
Mr. Randolph was cool as they went in together, and made it plain thatabsence without leave on the part of a clerk was an embarrassment to thepublic service of the State Department, in which were only three or fourclerks. De Courval could only say that imperative private business hadtaken him out of town. It would not occur again. Upon this Mr. Randolphbegan to discuss the amazing assault and robbery with which town gossipwas so busy. Mr. Fauchet had been insolent, and, asking aid indiscovering the thief, had plainly implied that more than he and hisgovernment would suffer if the despatch were not soon restored to theminister. Mr. Randolph had been much amused, a little angry and alsopuzzled. "It had proved," he said, "a fine weapon in the hands of theDemocrats." The young man was glad to shift the talk, but wherever hewent for a few days, people, knowing of his duel, were sure to talk tohim of this mysterious business. Later the "Aurora" and Mr. Bache, whohad taken up the role in which Mr. Freneau had acted with skill and illtemper, made wild use of the story and of the value of the stolen papersto a criminal cabinet. Over their classic signatures Cato and Aristideschallenged Democratic Socrates or Cicero to say how General Washingtonwould be the better for knowledge of the rant of the strolling playerFauchet. Very soon, however, people ceased to talk of it. It was anunsolved mystery. But for one man torment of body and distress of mindkept ever present the will and wish to be without risk revenged. He wasalready, as he knew, _persona non grata_, and to have Schmidt's storytold and believed was for the secretary to be sent home in disgrace. Hewaited, seeing no way as yet to acquit himself of this growing debt.
January of 1795 came in with the cabinet changes already long expected.Carteaux was still very ill
in bed, with doctors searching for thebullet. As yet he told only of being robbed of his despatches and thathe had lost neither watch nor purse, which was conclusive. WhereuponFauchet talked and insulted Randolph, and the Democratic clubs ravedwith dark hints and insinuations, while the despatch went on its way,not to be heard of for months to come. Rene, who was for a time uneasyand disliked the secrecy thrown about an action of which he was farfrom ashamed, began at last to feel relieved, and thus the midwinter wasover and the days began noticeably to lengthen.