Confessions Of Con Cregan Part 64

"Were not much in his company, nor intrusted to him the secret details of the expedition?"

"I know nothing of what you're talking about."

"Produce Ruy Peres," said the General; and the door opened, and the Chevalier, dressed in a military uniform and with several decorations of foreign orders, entered.

"Do you know this gentleman?" said the General, dryly.

"I know him for a Pole whose name is Alexis Radchoffsky--at least, under such a name he once lived in London, and is well known to the police there."

"Go on," said the General to the secretary. "On being confronted with the Senhor Ruy Peres, the prisoner became suddenly abashed, and at once confessed that he had known him intimately several years before in London."

"Is that man a witness against me?" asked I, eagerly.

"Attend to me, sir," said the General, while he made a sign to the Chevalier to retire. "Neither subterfuge nor insolence will avail you here. You are perfectly well known to us,--your early history, your late intrigues, your present intentions."

"With such intimate knowledge of all about me, General," said I, coolly, "have n't we been wasting a great deal of valuable time in this interrogatory?"

"And, notwithstanding repeated admonitions, persisted in using the most indecorous language to the commission." These words the General dictated in a loud voice, and they were immediately taken down by his secretary.

"Senhor Concregan," said he, addressing me, "you stand now committed, by virtue of a royal warrant, a copy of which, and of the charges laid against you, will be duly transmitted to you. Whenever the authorities have decided whether your offence should be submitted to a civil or military tribunal, you will be brought up for trial."

"I am an English subject, sir," said I; "I belong to a nation that never permits its meanest member to be trampled on by foreign tyranny, far less will it suffer his liberty or life to be sacrificed to a false and infamous calumny. I claim the protection of my amba.s.sador, or at least of such a representative of my country as your petty locality may possess. I desire--" What I was about to demand as my birthright was not destined to be made public on this occasion, since at a signal from the General the door opened, and two soldiers, advancing, adjusted handcuffs on my wrists, and led me away even before I had recovered from the surprise the whole proceeding occasioned me.

Whether it was that I enjoyed the prerogative of a State prisoner, or that the authorities were not quite clear that they were justified in what they were doing, I cannot say; but my prison discipline was of the very mildest order. I had a most comfortable room, with a window looking seaward over the beautiful bay of Malaga, taking a wide range along sh.o.r.e, where gardens and villas and orange-groves extended for miles.

The furniture was neat, and with some pretensions to luxury; and the fare, I am bound to own, was excellent. Books, and even newspapers, were freely supplied to me, and, save that at certain intervals the clank of a musket, and the shuffling of feet in the corridor without, told that the sentry of my guard was being relieved, I could have fancied myself in some homely inn, without a restriction upon my liberty. My handcuffs had been removed the moment I had entered my chamber, and now the iron stanchions of my window were the only reminders of a jail around me.

CHAPTER x.x.x. CONSOLATIONS OF DIPLOMACY

The first revulsion of feeling over, the terrible shock of that fall from the pinnacle of wealth and greatness to the lowly condition of a prisoner unfriended and dest.i.tute,--I actually began to enjoy my life, and feel something wonderfully like happiness. I do not pretend to say that my disappointment was not most acute and painful, or that I suffered little from the contemplation of my ruined hopes. No, far from it; but my grief, like the course of a mountain torrent, soon ran off, and left the stream of my life clear and untroubled as ever. It is true, thought I, this is a terrible contrast to what I was a week ago; but still, is it not a long way in advance of what my original condition promised? I am a prisoner in a Spanish fortress: is not even that better than a peasant in an Irish hovel? The very cares with which I am surrounded bespeak a certain consequence pertaining to me; I am one whom ministers of State think and speak about, whose name is often on their lips, whose memory haunts them in their half-waking moments. Is not this something? Is it not a great deal to one whose whole ideal was to avoid the bypaths of life, and take his course in its very widest and busiest thoroughfares?

The occupations in which I pa.s.sed my days greatly contributed to sustain this pleasant illusion. I was eternally-writing letters, memorials, statements of facts, and what not, of interminable narratives, to all our ministers and consuls, invoking their aid, and protesting in the name of the British nation against the unwarrantable tyranny of my imprisonment. It is quite true that these lengthy doc.u.ments of mine seemed to meet but sorry acceptance. For a length of time no acknowledgment of their reception ever reached me; but at last the following dry epistle informed me that my memorials had reached their destination:--

"Sir,--I am directed by the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs to acknowledge the receipt of your memorials dated the 9th, 12th, 18th, 23rd, and 25th of last month, together with various letters bearing on the same subjects since that time, and to state, in reply, that the matter of your complaint is at present under investigation with the authorities of the Spanish Government.

"His Lordship the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs desires me to add his regrets that even in the event of your liberation he can hold out no prospect whatever that any compensation will be made to you for the loss of property you allege to have suffered, and which, of course, was incurred as one of the many risks natural to the course of such an expedition as you were engaged in.

"I have the honor to be, sir,

"F. O., London,

"Your most obedient servant,

"Oct. 18--.

"Joseph Backslip.

"To Cornelius Cregan, Esq."

This was a sad damper! To think that I was to lose the immense amount of property with which I had embarked,--the gems and jewels, the rare objects of art, the equipages, the beautiful horses of purest Mexican blood! not to speak of that far greater loss,--the large sum in actual money! But, then, what a consolation to remember that a Secretary of State was mingling his sorrows with my own on the subject; that he actually gave an official character to his grief, by desiring the Under-Secretary to convey "his regrets" in a despatch! his regrets--to me, Con Cregan! What inestimable words! That ever I should live to know that the Right Honorable Lord Puzzleton, the adored cherub of fashion, the admired of _coteries_, the worshipped of "the Commons," the favored guest of Windsor, should, under the big seal of his office, a.s.sure me of his heartfelt sympathy!

I closed my eyes as I read the paragraph, and imagined that we were weeping together, like the "Babes in the Wood." "How they wrong this man," thought I, "in England; what calumnies they circulate about his levity, his heartlessness, and so forth; and see! look at him here mingling in the private sorrows of an individual, and taking part in all the private woes of Con Cregan." By this beautiful artifice I contrived to raise the aforesaid Con to a very considerable elevation in his own esteem; and thus, worthy reader, by pleasant fancies and ingenious illusions,--wares that every man can fashion at will,--did I contrive to make my prison at Malaga a most endurable resting-place, and even now to make its retrospect full of sweet memories.

Nor were my imaginings limited to such visions as these, for I loved to compare my condition with that of other exalted prisoners, and fancy how _my_ conduct would read by the side of _theirs_. If I were less piously resigned, less submissive, than Silvio Pellico, a.s.suredly I showed more dignity in my fall than the Exile of St. Helena. I bore all the little vexations of my lot with a haughty reserve that entirely subdued every sign of a querulous nature, and seemed to say, "My time will come yet!"

At last it appeared either as if my memorials were never opened, or, if opened, never read. No answer came whatever! and even the Malaga newspapers, which, in the dearth of shipping intelligence, would often insert some little notice of me, stating how "the 'Conde' walked yesterday for an hour upon 'the leads';" "the 'Conde' partook with an appet.i.te of a partridge, and conversed freely with the officer on duty,"

and so on,--now they never by any chance alluded to me; and I seemed, for all the interest the world manifested about me, to have suffered a species of moral decease. It was the unhealthy season of the year, and the Consul had absented himself, leaving his functions to his "Vice,"

who, having also a "const.i.tution," had departed likewise, bequeathing the traditions and cares of office to his Dutch colleague, who neither spoke nor read any other tongue than that muddy language begotten of dikes and fogs. Wearied possibly by the daily arrival of half a quire of my remonstrances, or curious to see the machine by which these broad sheets were struck off with such unfailing celerity, this official arrived one day at the prison with an order from the Governor, permitting him to see the "Conde."

I was, as usual, writing away, when the turnkey announced his Excellency (every official is Excellency if too low for Highness), Mynheer van Hoagendrius, and a very short and immensely fat personage, dressed in a kind of black-and-white plaid jacket and trousers, entered. He looked like a huge chess-board set on legs. A grunt, a snort, a thick sound like a struggle between choking and gurgling, ensued, which I concluded to be something in Dutch, and he seated himself opposite me.

I made my compliments to him, polyglot-wise, in French, English, Spanish, and at last German,--the last evidently striking a spark out of the embers of his cold intelligence, for he fixed his dull eyes upon me, and seemed as though he would soon wake up. Animated by this hope, I proceeded in my very best "Deutsch" to expound my sorrows to him.

Fortunately for me, my German had been acquired in the low companionship of "skippers" and sailors, and consequently bore a nearer resemblance to its half-brother of Holland than the more cultivated tongues of professors and philosophers.

I cannot, to this hour, say whether it arose from any interest in the narrative, or whether proceeding from the laudable desire to come at the truth in a question of much difficulty, but the Mynheer now came to me each morning, and usually stayed two hours, during which I talked and he smoked incessantly. Often, when he left me, have I asked myself "what progress I had made in his good opinion? how far had I made him master of my case?" but the question remained without an answer; for if occasionally a stray flash of intelligence would light up his dull features, on following the direction of his eyes I could perceive that the animation arose from the sight of some fishing-boat returning loaded with turbot, or that the savory odor of salt cod had saluted him from the sh.o.r.e. I felt at length as though I were sailing without a log-line,--nothing to mark my progress or say in what lat.i.tude I cruised.

My Dutch friend had now been visiting me for above six weeks, during which, if he had not supplied himself with every detail of my calamity, he had at least smoked all the choice tobacco which, as a favor from the Governor, I was permitted to land for my own use; and as yet he had given no signs of life other than the act of fumigation aforesaid. I was half angry, half amused, at the little act of dexterity with which he emptied the last remnant of my pure Havannah into his pipe, and heard, with a kind of malicious satisfaction, the little sigh with which he pushed the empty canister from him.

He seemed lost for some time in the slough of his Dutch reflections, but at length he fixed his eyes upon me, and in a low, suffocating tone said, "Hast a file?"

"No," said I.

"There, then," said he, giving me a small parcel tightly tied up in paper. "Farewell!" and he moved towards the door before I could recover from my surprise to thank him. As he reached it, he turned about, and in a very significant voice said, "Der bood est hardt,"--a species of Plat-Deutsch I might not have understood if unaccompanied by a gesture which implied that the ground was hard beneath my window, as a caution to me in the event of a leap.

No sooner was I alone than I opened my precious packet, which, besides two files, contained a small phial of aquafortis and another of oil,--the latter a useful adjunct to prevent the grating noise being heard. Having concealed the implements in a rat-hole, I proceeded to examine the iron bars of the window, which, although seemingly of great size and strength, were in reality coated with a rust of more than half their actual thickness. This was a most inspiriting discovery, and at once animated me with glowing hopes of success.

As I could only work during the night, I affected illness as a reason for keeping my bed during the day, when I slept profoundly and refreshingly.

The non-success of all my efforts to interest diplomacy in my cause was just beginning to impress me with a sense of gloom and despondency, when this new incident occurred to rally my drooping courage. Life had now an object; and that, if not always enough for happiness, is sufficient at least to rouse those energies which, when stagnant, produce despair.

How I longed for night to come, that I might resume my labor! with what resolute industry I worked on during the dark hours, only ceasing when the change of the sentries brought the guard close beneath my window, and even grudging the few seconds thus wasted! With what delight I used to measure the fissure which, at first only deep enough for my nail, was now sufficient to cover the file! This I used to conceal each morning with bread colored by the rusty powder that fell from the filing, so that, to all seeming, everything was in its usual order.

This was almost the only period of my life in which I remembered my father: from some similarity in our condition, perhaps, he was now seldom out of my thoughts. I used to wonder if he were still alive, and how situated; whether he was yet a convict going forth in chains to daily toil, or a "ticket-of-leave" man working at some settlement in the "Bush." Did he ever think of me? Did he ever dream of his native land, or wish to return to it? And what prospect of escape did fortune hold out to him? That, after all, was the great link which bound him to my thoughts! Was there any silent and sympathizing Dutchman to take pity on his captivity?

At the close of the fifth week, I had the inestimable pleasure of "reporting the breach practicable," or, in less sounding phrase, of a.s.suring myself that the middle bar of the window was removable at will, and thus a free egress was permitted me to an extensive terrace, which, with a low parapet, overlooked the bay for miles. This was about five-and-twenty feet from the ground, and was guarded beneath by a sentry, one of a chain of sentinels, whose "watch" extended around the entire fortress. The descent and the guard were then the only difficulties which now remained to be overcome,--so far, at least, as mere liberation from the prison walls extended. I am sure I invented at least fifty choice stratagems which afterthought always showed were perfectly worthless. I bethought me of bribing the sentry with the few gold pieces which I still possessed; but what security had I that he might not resist the seduction, or betray me even after receiving the money?

The fall, too, was considerable; nor was there anything to which I could attach my bedclothes to lower myself to the ground. It must be "a drop;"

and what a situation should I be in were I to break a bone, or even sprain my ankle in the effort! Alas! I now perceived that although the most laborious portion of my work was accomplished, the most difficult still remained to be done.

The obstacles to mere escape were sufficiently great to prevent me even thinking of the course to be pursued after I reached the ground in safety, for I was without friend, shelter, pa.s.sport, or any means of disguise or concealment whatever.

I pondered long and carefully over the question; and already had two dreary weeks pa.s.sed over since I had cut through the bar, and yet, so far as I could see, no nearer to liberation than when the solid iron enclosed me. My mind began to sink under the fatigue of unceasing contrivance, and a dreamy, dreary sense of hopelessness seemed gaining on me. It had been a dark, cloudy day, with gusts of wind, followed by intervals of calm. The air was moist and heavy, and charged with the depressing influences which the "mestrale," that sickliest of all winds, ever brings. Ma.s.ses of leaden-colored clouds floated low over the sea, which was broken into a short angry "jobbe," as if after a storm.

All betokened the approach of a gale of wind, and, as night set in, the signs of bad weather thickened. Scarcely had the sun set, when it became dark as pitch; the wind, which had lulled for a brief s.p.a.ce previous, now sprung up, and the sea fretted and chafed against the rocks with that peculiar sharp chirping sound that presages "wind." The clank of chain cables, the plashing noise of falling anchors, the loud shouts of the sailors as they prepared to meet the gathering storm, even now heard, while in the changing position of the different lights of the bay I could discern the movements of the various vessels as they sought shelter or made ready for sea, in expectation of the "gale." The impenetrable darkness, the roaring wind, the flashing of the lights, the cries of the seamen, the hurrying of feet along the quays, and the sounds of different boats' crews departing in haste,--all gave a charm to a scene of which the obscurity increased the iuterest. A large French steamer was to have sailed that night for Ma.r.s.eilles; but I overheard a voice from the street foretelling that the "Gazonne" might leave without her pa.s.sengers, "as no one would go on board of her on such a night." A red lantern at the peak indicated the vessel, and I could see that she had changed her position and "taken up a berth" farther out in the bay.

I cannot tell by what instinct I selected her as a peculiar object of my iuterest, but so it was. I watched her unceasingly, and rarely took my eyes from the quarter where she lay; and when the heaving motion of the "red light" showed that she was tossing in a heavy sea, I listened too with eagerness to catch anything from those that pa.s.sed beneath that might concern this vessel, which now engrossed all my sympathy. "Were I once but on board of her," thought I, "the wildest hurricane that ever blew would be sweeter to me than all the balmy airs that ever bore the odor of orange-blossom through my barred window!" I would have braved the stormiest seas, the maddest gale, shipwreck itself, rather than longer remain the helpless, hopeless thing a life of imprisonment was making of me. "Would that the alternative were given me," said I to myself: "the free choice to change these four walls for the deck over which the waves are dancing in foamy sheets! with what a thankful heart would I take the offer!"

The last visit of the turnkey, who came to see all safe, broke in for a moment upon these musings; and now the double-locked door, and his retiring footsteps, told me that no further molestation was to be feared, and that I was, at least till daybreak, the undisturbed master of my own reveries. I opened the window, pushed back the iron stanchion, and walked out upon the terrace. It was a night of storm and wild hurricane. The rain swept by in great plashes, increasing the darkness, and mingling its hissing noise, with the breaking crash of the sea, as it beat furiously against the rocks. The dancing, bobbing motion of the lights on board the different craft showed what "a sea" was raging in the bay; while, even in the city itself, the clatter of falling tiles and chimneys told the violence of the gale. I stood upon the terrace; and as the rain penetrated my frail garment, and the wind wafted my wet hair across my cheeks, I felt a sense of ecstasy that nothing in all my previous life had ever equalled. It was the sensation of freedom; it was the burst of delight with which the captive welcomes the long-lost liberty. "Better this," thought I, "than the snuggest chamber that ever called itself a prison."