The Crusade of the Excelsior

by Bret Harte

  CHAPTER VII.

  THE GENTLE CASTAWAYS.

  Miss Keene was awakened from a heavy sleep by a hurried shake of hershoulder and an indefinite feeling of alarm. Opening her eyes, she wasmomentarily dazed by the broad light of day, and the spectacle of Mrs.Brimmer, pale and agitated, in a half-Spanish dishabille, standing ather bedside.

  "Get up and dress yourself, my dear, at once," she said hurriedly, butat the same time attentively examining Miss Keene's clothes, that werelying on the chair: "and thank Heaven you came here in an afternoondress, and not in an evening costume like mine! For something awful hashappened, and Heaven only knows whether we'll ever see a stitch of ourclothes again."

  "WHAT has happened?" asked Miss Keene impatiently, sitting up in bed,more alarmed at the unusual circumstance of Mrs. Brimmer's unfinishedtoilet than at her incomplete speech.

  "What, indeed! Nobody knows; but it's something awful--a mutiny, orshipwreck, or piracy. But there's your friend, the Commander, callingout the troops; and such a set of Christy Minstrels you never sawbefore! There's the Alcalde summoning the Council; there's Mr. Banksraving, and running round for a steamboat--as if these people ever heardof such a thing!--and Captain Bunker, what with rage and drink, goneoff in a fit of delirium tremens, and locked up in his room! And theExcelsior gone--the Lord knows where!"

  "Gone!" repeated Miss Keene, hurrying on her clothes. "Impossible! Whatdoes Father Esteban tell you? What does Dona Isabel say?"

  "That's the most horrible part of it! Do you know those wretched idiotsbelieve it's some political revolution among ourselves, like their ownmiserable government. I believe that baby Isabel thinks that KingGeorge and Washington have something to do with it; at any rate, they'reanxious to know to what side you belong! So; for goodness' sake! if youhave to humor them, say we're all on the same side--I mean, don't youand Mrs. Markham go against Miss Chubb and me."

  Scarcely knowing whether to laugh or cry at Mrs. Brimmer's incoherentstatement, Miss Keene hastily finished dressing as the door flew open toadmit the impulsive Dona Isabel and her sister Juanita. The two Mexicangirls threw themselves in Miss Keene's arms, and then suddenly drew backwith a movement of bashful and diffident respect.

  "Do, pray, ask them, for I daren't," whispered Mrs. Brimmer, tryingto clasp a mantilla around her, "how this thing is worn, and if theyhaven't got something like a decent bonnet to lend me for a day or two?"

  "The Senora has not then heard that her goods, and all the goods ofthe Senores and Senoras, have been discovered safely put ashore at theEmbarcadero?"

  "No?" said Mrs. Brimmer eagerly.

  "Ah, yes!" responded Dona Isabel. "Since the Senora is not of therevolutionary party."

  Mrs. Brimmer cast a supplicatory look at Miss Keene, and hastily quittedthe room. Miss Keene would have as quickly followed her, but the youngRamirez girls threw themselves again tragically upon her breast, and,with a mysterious gesture of silence, whispered,--

  "Fear nothing, Excellencia! We are yours--we will die for you, no matterwhat Don Ramon, or the Comandante, or the Ayuntamiento, shall decide.Trust us, little one!--pardon--Excellencia, we mean."

  "What IS the matter?" said Miss Keene, now thoroughly alarmed, andreleasing herself from the twining arms about her. "For Heaven's sakelet me go! I must see somebody! Where is--where is Mrs. Markham?"

  "The Markham? Is it the severe one?--as thus,"--said Dona Isabel,striking an attitude of infantine portentousness.

  "Yes," said Miss Keene, smiling in spite of her alarm.

  "She is arrested."

  "Arrested!" said Eleanor Keene, her cheeks aflame with indignation. "Forwhat? Who dare do this thing?"

  "The Comandante. She has a missive--a despatch from theinsurrectionaries."

  Without another word, and feeling that she could stand the suspense nolonger, Miss Keene forced her way past the young girls, unheeding theircries of consternation and apology, and quickly reached the patio.A single glance showed her that Mrs. Brimmer was gone. With eyes andcheeks still burning, she swept past the astounded peons, through thegateway, into the open plaza. Only one idea filled her mind--to see theCommander, and demand the release of her friend. How she should do it,with what arguments she should enforce her demand, never occurred toher. She did not even think of asking the assistance of Mr. Brace, Mr.Crosby, or any of her fellow-passengers. The consciousness of some vaguecrisis that she alone could meet possessed her completely.

  The plaza was swarming with a strange rabble of peons and soldiery; ofdark, lowering faces, odd-looking weapons and costumes, mules, mustangs,and cattle--a heterogeneous mass, swayed by some fierce excitement. Thatshe saw none of the Excelsior party among them did not surprise her;an instinct of some catastrophe more serious than Mrs. Brimmer's vagueimaginings frightened but exalted her. With head erect, leveled brows,and bright, determined eyes she walked deliberately into the square.The crowd parted and gave way before this beautiful girl, with her baredhead and its invincible crest of chestnut curls. Presently they beganto follow her, with a compressed murmur of admiration, until, beforeshe was halfway across the plaza, the sentries beside the gateway of thePresidio were astonished at the vision of a fair-haired and triumphantPallas, who appeared to be leading the entire population of Todos Santosto victorious attack. In vain a solitary bugle blew, in vain the rollingdrum beat an alarm, the sympathetic guard only presented arms as MissKeene, flushed and excited, her eyes darkly humid with gratified pride,swept past them into the actual presence of the bewildered and indignantComandante.

  The only feminine consciousness she retained was that she was morerelieved at her deliverance from the wild cattle and unbroken horses ofher progress than from the Indians and soldiers.

  "I want to see Mrs. Markham, and to know by what authority she isarrested," said Miss Keene boldly.

  "The Senor Comandante can hold no conference with you until you disperseyour party," interpreted the secretary.

  She was about to hurriedly reply that she knew nothing of the crowd thathad accompanied her; but she was withheld by a newly-born instinct oftact.

  "How do I know that I shall not be arrested, like my friend?" she saidquickly. "She is as innocent as myself."

  "The Comandante pledges himself, as a hidalgo, that you shall not beharmed."

  Her first impulse was to advance to the nearest intruders at the gateand say, "Do go away, please;" but she was doubtful of its efficiency,and was already too exalted by the situation to be satisfied with itsprosaic weakness. But her newly developed diplomacy again came to heraid. "You may tell them so, if you choose, I cannot answer for them,"she said, with apparent dark significance.

  The secretary advanced on the corridor and exchanged a few words withher more impulsive followers. Miss Keene, goddess-like and beautiful,remained erect behind him, and sent them a dazzling smile and ravishingwave of her little hand. The crowd roared with an effusive and bovinedelight that half frightened her, and with a dozen "Viva la ReynaAmericanas!" she was hurried by the Comandante into the guard-room.

  "You ask to know of what the Senora Markham is accused," said theCommander, more gently. "She has received correspondence from thepirate--Perkins!"

  "The pirate--Perkins?" said Miss Keene, with indignant incredulity.

  "The buccaneer who wrote that letter. Read it to her, Manuel."

  The secretary took his eyes from the young girl's glowing face, coughedslightly, and then read as follows:--

  "ON BOARD THE EXCELSIOR, of the Quinquinambo Independent States Navy,August 8, 1854.

  "To Captain Bunker.--Sir," . . .

  "But this is not addressed to YOU!" interrupted Miss Keene indignantly.

  "The Captain Bunker is a raving madman," said the Commander gravely."Read on!"

  The color gradually faded from the young girl's cheek as the secretarycontinued, in a monotonous voice:--

  "I have the honor to inform you that the barque Excelsior was, on the8th of July, 1854, and the first year of the Quinquinambo Independence,formall
y condemned by the Federal Council of Quinquinambo, for havingaided and assisted the enemy with munitions of war and supplies, againstthe law of nations, and the tacit and implied good-will between theRepublic of the United States and the struggling Confederacies of SouthAmerica; and that, in pursuance thereof, and under the law of reprisalsand letters of marque, was taken possession of by me yesterday. Thegoods and personal effects belonging to the passengers and yourselfhave been safely landed at the Embarcadero of Todos Santos--a neutralport--by my directions; my interpretation of the orders of the FederalCouncil excepting innocent non-combatants and their official protectorfrom confiscation or amercement.

  "I take the liberty of requesting you to hand the inclosed order on theTreasury of the Quinquinambo Confederate States to Don Miguel Briones,in payment of certain stores and provisions, and of a piece ofordnance known as the saluting cannon of the Presidio of Todos Santos.Vigilancia!

  "Your obedient servant,

  "LEONIDAS BOLIVAR PERKINS,

  "Generalissimo Commanding Land and Sea Forces, Quinquinambo IndependentStates."

  In her consternation at this fuller realization of the vaguecatastrophe, Miss Keene still clung to the idea that had brought herthere.

  "But Mrs. Markham has nothing to do with all this?"

  "Then why does she refuse to give up her secret correspondence with thepirate Perkins?" returned the secretary.

  Miss Keene hesitated. Had Mrs. Markham any previous knowledge of theSenor's real character?

  "Why don't you arrest the men?" she said scornfully. "There is Mr.Banks, Mr. Crosby, Mr. Winslow, and Mr. Brace." She uttered the lastname more contemptuously, as she thought of that young gentleman'sprotestations and her present unprotected isolation.

  "They are already arrested and removed to San Antonio, a league hence,"returned the secretary. "It is fact enough that they have confessed thattheir Government has seized the Mexican province of California, and thatthey were on their way to take possession of it."

  Miss Keene's heart sank.

  "But you knew all this yesterday," she faltered; "and our war withMexico is all over years ago."

  "We did not know it last night at the banquet, Senora; nor would we haveknown it but for this treason and division in your own party."

  A sudden light flashed upon Miss Keene's mind. She now comprehended theadvances of Dona Isabel. Extravagant and monstrous as it seemed, thesepeople evidently believed that a revolution had taken place in theUnited States; that the two opposing parties had been represented by thepassengers of the Excelsior; and that one party had succeeded, headed bythe indomitable Perkins. If she could be able to convince them oftheir blunder, would it be wise to do so? She thought of Mrs. Brimmer'ssupplication to be ranged "on her side," and realized with femininequickness that the situation might be turned to her countrymen'sadvantage. But which side had Todos Santos favored? It was left to herwoman's wit to discover this, and conceive a plan to rescue her helplesscompanions.

  Her suspense was quickly relieved. The Commander and his secretaryexchanged a few words.

  "The Comandante will grant Dona Leonora's request," said the secretary,"if she will answer a question."

  "What is it?" responded Miss Keene, with inward trepidation.

  "The Senora Markham is perhaps beloved by the Pirate Perkins?"

  In spite of her danger, in spite of the uncertain fate hanging overher party, Miss Keene could with difficulty repress a half hystericalinclination to laugh. Even then, it escaped in a sudden twinkle of hereye, which both the Commander and his subordinate were quick to notice,as she replied demurely, "Perhaps."

  It was enough for the Commander. A gleam of antique archness andvenerable raillery lit up his murky, tobacco-colored pupils; a spasm ofgallantry crossed the face of the secretary.

  "Ah--what would you?--it is the way of the world," said the Commander."We comprehend. Come!"

  He led the way across the corridor, and suddenly opened a smallbarred door. Whatever preconceived idea Miss Keene may have had of herunfortunate country-woman immured in a noisome cell, and guarded bya stern jailer, was quite dissipated by the soft misty sunshine thatflowed in through the open door. The prison of Mrs. Markham was a partof the old glacis which had been allowed to lapse into a wild gardenthat stretched to the edge of the sea. There was a summer-house builton--and partly from--a crumbling bastion, and here, under the shade oftropical creepers, the melancholy captive was comfortably writing,with her portable desk on her knee, and a traveling-bag at her feet.A Saratoga trunk of obtrusive proportions stood in the centre of thepeaceful vegetation, like a newly raised altar to an unknown deity. Theonly suggestion of martial surveillance was an Indian soldier, whosemusket, reposing on the ground near Mrs. Markham, he had exchanged forthe rude mattock with which he was quietly digging.

  The two women, with a cry of relief, flew into each other's arms. TheCommander and his secretary discreetly retired to an angle of the wall.

  "I find everything as I left it, my dear, even to my slipper-bag," saidMrs. Markham. "They've forgotten nothing."

  "But you are a captive!" said Eleanor. "What does it mean?"

  "Nothing, my dear. I gave them a piece of my mind," said Mrs. Markham,looking, however, as if that mental offering had by no means exhaustedher capital, "and I have written six pages to the Governor at Mazatlan,and a full account to Mr. Markham."

  "And they won't get them in thirty years!" said Miss Keene impetuously."But where is this letter from Senor Perkins. And, for Heaven's sake,tell me if you had the least suspicion before of anything that hashappened."

  "Not in the least. The man is mad, my dear, and I really believe drivenso by that absurd Illinois woman's poetry. Did you ever see anythingso ridiculous--and shameful, too--as the 'Ulricardo' business? I don'twonder he colored so."

  Miss Keene winced with annoyance. Was everybody going crazy, or wasthere anything more in this catastrophe that had only enfeebled theminds of her countrywomen! For here was the severe, strong-minded Mrs.Markham actually preoccupied, like Mrs. Brimmer, with utterly irrelevantparticulars, and apparently powerless to grasp the fact that they wereabandoned on a half hostile strand, and cut off by half a century fromthe rest of the world.

  "As to the letter," said Mrs. Markham, quietly, "there it is. There'snothing in it that might not have been written by a friend."

  Miss Keene took the letter. It was written in a delicate, almostfeminine hand. She could not help noticing that in one or two instancescorrections had been made and blots carefully removed with an eraser.

  "Midnight, on the Excelsior.

  "MY FRIEND: When you receive this I shall probably be once more on thebosom of that mysterious and mighty element whose majesty has impressedus, whose poetry we have loved, and whose moral lessons, I trust, havenot been entirely thrown away upon us. I go to the deliverance of one ofthose oppressed nations whose history I have often recited to you,and in whose destiny you have from time to time expressed a womanlysympathy. While it is probable, therefore, that my MOTIVES may not bemisunderstood by you, or even other dear friends of the Excelsior, it isby no means impossible that the celerity and unexpectedness of my ACTIONmay not be perfectly appreciated by the careless mind, and may seemto require some explanation. Let me then briefly say that the idea ofdebarking your goods and chattels, and parting from your delightfulcompany at Todos Santos, only occurred to me on our unexpected--shall Isay PROVIDENTIAL?--arrival at that spot; and the necessity of expeditionforbade me either inviting your cooperation or soliciting yourconfidence. Human intelligence is variously constituted--or, to use amore homely phrase, 'many men have many minds'--and it is not impossiblethat a premature disclosure of my plans might have jeopardized thatharmony which you know it has been my desire to promote. It was myoriginal intention to have landed you at Mazatlan, a place reallyinferior in climate and natural attractions to Todo Santos, although,perhaps, more easy of access and egress; but the presence of an Americansteamer in the offing would have invested my enterprise wi
th a certainpublicity foreign, I think, to all our tastes. Taking advantage,therefore, of my knowledge of the peninsular coast, and the pardonableignorance of Captain Bunker, I endeavored, through my faithfulsubordinates, to reach a less known port, and a coast rarelyfrequented by reason of its prevailing fog. Here occurred one of thosedispensations of an overruling power which, dear friend, we have sooften discussed. We fell in with an unknown current, and were guided bya mysterious hand into the bay of Todos Santos!

  "You know of my belief in the infinite wisdom and benignity of events;you have, dear friend, with certain feminine limitations, shared it withme. Could there have been a more perfect illustration of it than thepower that led us here? On a shore, historic in interest, beautifulin climate, hospitable in its people, utterly freed from externalinfluences, and absolutely without a compromising future, you arelanded, my dear friend, with your youthful companions. From thecrumbling ruins of a decaying Past you are called to construct anArcadia of your own; the rudiments of a new civilization are within yourgrasp; the cost of existence is comparatively trifling; the varioussums you have with you, which even in the chaos of revolution I havesucceeded in keeping intact, will more than suffice to your naturalwants for years to come. Were I not already devoted to the task offreeing Quinquinambo, I should willingly share this Elysium with youall. But, to use the glowing words of Mrs. M'Corkle, slightly alteringthe refrain--

  'Ah, stay me not! With flying feet O'er desert sands, I rush to greet My fate, my love, my life, my sweet Quinquinambo!'

  "I venture to intrust to your care two unpublished manuscripts of thatgifted woman. The dangers that may environ my present mission, thevicissitudes of battle by sea or land, forbid my imperiling theirnatural descent to posterity. You, my dear friend, will preserve themfor the ages to come, occasionally refreshing yourself, from time totime, from that Parnassian spring.

  "Adieu! my friend. I look around the familiar cabin, and miss yourgentle faces. I feel as Jason might have felt, alone on the deck of theArgo when his companions were ashore, except that I know of no Circeaninfluences to mar their destiny. In examining the state-rooms to see ifmy orders for the complete restoration of passengers' property had beencarried out, I allowed myself to look into yours. Lying alone, forgottenand overlooked, I saw a peculiar jet hair-pin which I think I haveobserved in the coils of your tresses. May I venture to keep this gentleinstrument as a reminder of the superior intellect it has so oftencrowned? Adieu, my friend.

  "Ever yours, LEONIDAS BOLIVAR PERKINS."

  "Well?" said Mrs. Markham impatiently, as Miss Keene remained motionlesswith the letter in her hand.

  "It seems like a ridiculous nightmare! I can't understand it at all. Theman that wrote this letter may be mad--but he is neither a pirate nor athief--and yet"--

  "He a pirate?" echoed Mrs. Markham indignantly; "He's nothing of thekind! It's not even his FAULT!"

  "Not his fault?" repeated Miss Keene; "are you mad, too?"

  "No--nor a fool, my dear! Don't you see? It's all the fault of Banks andBrimmer for compromising the vessel: of that stupid, drunken captain forpermitting it. Senor Perkins is a liberator, a patriot, who has periledhimself and his country to treat us magnanimously. Don't you see it?It's like that Banks and that Mrs. Brimmer to call HIM a pirate! I've agood mind to give the Commander my opinion of THEM."

  "Hush!" said Miss Keene, with a sudden recollection of the Commander'ssuspicions, "for Heaven's sake; you do not know what you are saying.Look! they were talking with that strange man, and now they are comingthis way."

  The Commander and his secretary approached them. They were both morethan usually grave; but the look of inquiry and suspicion with whichthey regarded the two women was gone from their eyes.

  "The Senor Comandante says you are free, Senoras, and begs you will onlydecide whether you will remain his guests or the guests of the Alcalde.But for the present he cannot allow you any communication with theprisoners of San Antonio."

  "There is further news?" said Miss Keene faintly, with a presentiment ofworse complications.

  "There is! A body from the Excelsior has been washed on shore."

  The two women turned pale.

  "In the pocket of the murdered man is an accusation against one SenorHurlstone, who was concealed on the ship; who came not ashore openlywith the other passengers, but who escaped in secret, and is now hidingsomewhere in Todos Santos."

  "And you suspect him of this infamous act?" said Eleanor, forgettingall prudence in her indignation. "You are deceiving yourself. He is asinnocent as I am!"

  The Commander and the secretary smiled sapiently, but gently.

  "The Senor Comandante believes you, Dona Leonora: the Senor Hurlstoneis innocent of the piracy. He is, of a surety, the leader of theOpposition."