The officer went off, the men howling with laughter; and a short while after we had made fast at the landing-stage, and were ready to go ashore.
Paolo still lay very sick in his cabin, and we determined in common charity to take no action until he had his health again; but we set the men to keep a watch about the place, and for ourselves went off to dine at the Fifth Avenue Hotel. There, before a sumptuous dinner, and with all the novelty of the new scene, we nigh forgot all that happened since the previous month; when, without thought of adventure or of future, we had gone to Paris with the aimless purpose of the idle traveller. And, indeed, I did my best to encourage this spirit of forgetfulness, since through all the new enjoyment I could not but feel that danger surrounded us on every hand, and that I was but just embarked on that great mission I had undertaken.
In this mood, when dinner was done, I suggested that Roderick should take Mary through the city awhile, and that I should get back to the Celsis, there to secure what papers were left for me, and to arrange, after thought, what my next step in the following of Captain Black should be. The skipper had friends to see in New York, and agreed that he would follow me to the yacht in a couple of hours, and that he would meet the others in the hotel after they had come from their excursion. This plan fell in with my own, and I said "Good-bye" cheerfully enough to the three men as I buttoned up my coat; and sent for a coach. If I had known then that the next time I should meet them would be after weeks of danger and of peril, of sojourn in strange places, and of life amongst terrible men!
I was driven to the wharf very quickly, and got aboard the yacht with no trouble. There was a man keeping watch upon her decks; and Dan had been in the sick man's cabin taking drink to him. He told me that he was more easy, and spoke with the full use of his senses; and that he had fallen off into a comfortable sleep "since an hour." I was glad at the news, and went to my own cabin, getting my papers, my revolver, and other things that I might have need of ashore.
This work occupied me forty minutes or more; but as I was ready to go back to the others I looked into Paolo's cabin, and, somewhat to my surprise, I saw that he was dressed, and seemingly about to quit the yacht. This discovery set me aglow with expectation. If the man were going ashore, whither could he go except to his associates, to those who were connected with Black and his crew? Was not that the very clue I had been hoping to get since I knew that we had a spy aboard us? Otherwise, I might wait a year and hear no more of the man or of his work except such tidings as should come from the sea. Indeed, my mind was made up in a moment: I would follow Paolo, at any risk, even of my life.
This thought sent me forward again into the fo'castle, where Dan was.
"Hist, Dan!" said I, "give me a man's rig-out—a jersey and some breeches and a cap—quick," and, while the old fellow stared and whistled softly, I helped to ransack his box; and in a trice I had dressed myself, putting my pistols, my papers, and my money in my new clothes; but leaving everything else in a heap on the floor.
"Dan," I said, "that Italian is going ashore, and I'm going to follow him. No, you mustn't come, or the thing will be spoilt. Tell the forward lookout to see nothing if the fellow passes, and get my rubber shoes from my trunk."
Dan scratched his head again, and must have thought that I was qualifying in lunacy; but he got the shoes, and not a moment too soon, for, as I came on deck, I saw a shadow on the gangway. The man was leaving the yacht at that moment, and I followed him, drawing my cap right over my eyes, and lurking behind every inch of cover.
Once out into the city, and having turned two or three times to satisfy himself that he had no one after him, Paolo struck for Broadway; thence with staggering gait, the result of his weakness, he made straight for the City Hall, at which point he turned and so got into Chatham Street and the Bowery. At last, after a long walk, and when the man himself was almost failing from the exertion of it, he stopped before an open door in the dirtiest of the streets through which we had come, and disappeared instantly. I came up to the door almost as soon as he had passed through; and found myself before a steep flight of steps, at the bottom of which through a glass partition I could see men smoking and drinking, and hear them bawling uncouth songs.
It was a fearful hole, peopled by fearful men; all nations and all sorts of villains were represented there: low Englishmen, Frenchmen, Russians, even niggers and Chinamen; yet into that hole must I go if I would follow Paolo to the end.
You may forgive me if I hesitated a moment; waited to balance up the odds upon my recognition. I might have decided even then that the risk was too great, the certainty of discovery too palpable; but at that moment a party of six hulking seamen descended the steps before me, and, taking advantage of the cover of their shoulders, I pulled my cap right over my face and passed through the swinging door with them into the most dangerous-looking place I have ever set foot in.
The room was long and narrow; banked its whole length by benches that had once been covered with red velvet, but now showed torn patches and the protruding wool of the stuffing. Mirrors were raised from the dado of the ragged seats to the frieze of the smoke-blackened ceiling; but they were for the most part cracked, and some had lost much of their glass. The accommodation for drinkers consisted of marble-topped tables, old and worn and stained with the dirt which was characteristic everywhere of the foul den; but there was nothing but boards beneath one's feet; and the wretched bar at the uppermost end of the chamber was no more than a plain deal bin with a high stool behind it for the serving man; he being a great negro, grotesquely attired as a man of fashion. Indeed, had not the whole place been so threatening, I should have paused to laugh at this dusky scoundrel, whose white hat sat jauntily on the side of his woolly head, and whose well-cut black coat was ornamented with a great bunch of white flowers. But there was evil in this man's face, and in the faces of the others who sat close-packed on the faded couches; and when I had paused for a moment to take reckoning of the room, I passed quickly to a bench near the door, and there sat wedged against a fair-haired seaman, whose look stamped him to be a Russian.
The scene was very new to me. I had heard of these drinking dens in that low quarter of New York called the Bowery; but my American friends had cautioned me often to have no truck with them should I visit their city. They spoke of the poor regard for life which prevailed there; of murders committed with an impunity which was as astounding as it was impossible for the police to suppress; of mysterious disappearances, mysterious alone in the lack of knowledge as to the victim's end; and they conjured me, if I would see such things, at least to go under the escort of the police. All this I had paid scant attention to at the time; but the reality was before me with its grim terror. The room was filled with the scum of sea-going humanity; foul smoke from foul pipes floated in choking clouds to the dirt-begrimed ceiling; great brown pots of strong drink were emptied as though their contents had been milk; horrid blasphemies were uttered as choice dishes of speech; ribald songs rose in giant discord as the spirit moved the singers. Now and again, betwixt the shouting and the singing, a young girl, whose presence in such a company turned my heart sick, played upon a harp, while to serve the crew with liquor there was a mahogany-faced hag whom the men addressed as "Mother Catch." An old crone, bent and doubled like a bow, yet vigorous in her work, and shuffling with quick steps as she laid down the jugs, or took the uncouth orders so freely given to her, she seemed to have the eye of a hawk; nor did I escape her glance, for I had not been seated before the marble table a moment when she shuffled up to me and stood glaring with her shining eyes, the very presentment of an old-time witch.
"Ha!" she said sharply, "ha! a sailor boy in proper sailor clothes; ho, little man, will ye wet yer throat for a pretty gentleman?"
I did not like her mock courtesy, or the way in which she pronounced the word "gentleman"; but I called for some beer to get her away, and when she brought it I remembered that I had no American money; but I put an English florin before her and waited for the change. She hissed at the sight of it like a serpent about to strike.
"Ha! Englishman! and no money; ho! ho! ye've got to find it, little man. Mother Catch likes you; but she spits on it!"
She spoke the last words in such a loud voice that several men near me turned to look, and I feared to become the centre of a