CHAPTER XIII

THE CAPTAIN OF THE “ARGENTE”

Our travelers arose very early the next morning.

The very first news that met Mr. Force on his entrance into the gentlemen’s reading room was, that the _Argente_ was in the navy yard. She had arrived at dawn that morning.

The squire hastened to the ladies’ parlor to communicate the news to Mrs. Force and the girls.

There was a general exclamation of joy, and then a cry of sharp anxiety from Rosemary:

“Oh! when shall we find out about Roland?” she pleaded.

“This very morning, dear child! No more to-morrows! To-morrow has come!” replied Mrs. Force, with a smile—yet, oh! how wan a smile!

“Come down to breakfast at once. We will get a cup of coffee or something, and then start for the navy yard and go on board the _Argente_,” said the squire, giving his arm to his wife.

They went down to the saloon and breakfasted as well as they could for the excitement, which took away their appetite.

After that, Mr. Force went out to hunt up a carriage, for there was none on the stand. When he returned, he said:

“My children, I could only get one hack, and it will hold but four persons inside. Your Uncle Enderby does not wish to go out. Therefore, Wynnette and Elva, you will remain here under the protection of your uncle, until we come back. Your mother, your sister, and your little friend will go with me.”

“But where is Uncle Gideon?” inquired Rosemary.

“My child, chains would not have held him here. He has gone down in an omnibus to the navy yard.”

Preparations were soon made, and Mr. Force and the three ladies were on their way to the east end of the city.

They drove through the navy yard gate, past the officers’ quarters and the workshops, and down to the water side.

There lay the _Argente_ at anchor a few hundred yards from the shore.

Mr. Force directed the driver to draw up.

Then he alighted from the carriage and handed his wife down; Odalite and Rosemary sprang out unassisted.

Odalite’s face was bright, eager, expectant; Rosemary’s pale, timid and anxious; both stood looking out upon the prize.

“How shall we reach the ship?” inquired Mrs. Force.

“I must signal for a boat to come off and fetch us! Stay, there is a boat coming,” announced the squire, and soon they all saw the boat that had been partly hidden in the shadow of the ship’s hulk, put off from her side. It was rowed by six sailors and approached the shore rapidly.

“Who is in it? Oh, if it should be Roland!” aspirated Rosemary, in a low, deep tone.

“Who is it, Abel?” inquired Mrs. Force of her husband, who was looking through a field glass.

“There is but one man besides the oarsmen, and his back is toward us. I do not know who he is; but—he is neither Leonidas nor Roland! He is much too stout for either of our boys! He is as broad-backed as old Gideon Grandiere!”

“By the way, where is Capt. Grandiere? You said he had come down to the yard; but we have not seen him.”

“My dear, he was a full half hour in advance of us, and must be on board the _Argente_, giving the officers and crew the benefit of his views on piracy! Come, the boat is almost here!”

A few minutes after the boat landed, the sailors drew in their oars and the single passenger turned around, got upon his feet, and stepped ashore.

He was the old skipper.

“Oh! Capt. Grandiere! What news?” exclaimed Mr. Force, while all his party looked the eager question which they did not put into words.

“No news at all! Nothing but a fresh disappointment and a longer suspense.”

“What do you mean?” inquired Mrs. Force.

The old man took off his cap, drew his red bandanna from its crown, deliberately wiped his face and head, replaced the handkerchief in his cap and his cap upon his crown and answered:

“There’s nobody aboard that can tell me anything, or that will tell anything if they can.”

“And did you learn nothing?”

“Nothing but this: that Lieut. Force has gone to make his report at headquarters, and nobody knows when he will be back. And the pirate and his mate are gone before the commissioner of prisoners, and nobody knows what their fate is to be.”

“And did you hear nothing—nothing at all of Roland?” inquired Rosemary, in a faint voice.

“Nothing whatever, my girl! I did inquire, but no one knew anything of any young man of that name. I am very sorry, my poor child.”

Rosemary had grown very pale and looked as if she were about to faint.

The old skipper raised her in his arms and laid her in the carriage, where she sank back upon the cushions.

Mrs. Force got in, seated herself beside Rosemary and drew the suffering girl to her bosom.

“Have courage, my love,” she whispered, through her tears—“have courage. Roland may have made his escape from the _Argente_ before she was captured by the _Eagle_; or he may be, by a mistake, with the other prisoners on board a man-of-war. Have courage, dear love.”

“Oh, Mrs. Force, I cannot—I cannot any longer! I feel as if I should give up and die!” moaned the girl.

Mr. Force handed Odalite into the carriage, and then, turning to the old skipper, said:

“Capt. Grandiere, if you will get in with the ladies, I will take a seat with the driver, and we will all go on together.”

“I will take the seat by the driver, and thank you, if you will allow me; but I cannot be shut up in the inside of that hack; I would rather walk,” replied the old sailor.

“As you please,” said Mr. Force; and he helped the skipper to mount the box, and then entered the carriage and seated himself with his “womenkind.”

“Where to, sir?” inquired the driver.

“To the office of the commissioner of prisoners; and on your way call at the hotel where you took us up.”

“Yes, sir.”

The carriage drove off, passed through the navy yard gate again, and took its way up Garrison Street to Pennsylvania Avenue, and thence to the West End.

Half an hour’s rapid drive brought the party to the front of their hotel.

“My dear,” said the squire to his wife, “I cannot take you and these girls to the commissioner’s office. I will take you upstairs, and ask your brother if he would like to accompany me.”

“Very well, Abel,” replied the lady.

Mr. Force got out, handed down his wife and the young ladies, and escorted them into the hotel.

They found the earl and his two nieces in the parlor. The two girls started up with the question:

“What news?”

“No very definite news,” replied their father; “but your mamma will tell you all we have learned. I am going to the office of the commissioner of prisoners, to see if I can meet Le. If I can, I will wait until he is at leisure, and bring him here. Enderby, would you like to go with me and see what it is?”

“Very much,” replied the earl.

And the two men went out together. They entered the carriage, which was driven off immediately.

It was but a short drive, and in less than ten minutes the carriage drew up, and the gentlemen alighted.

Capt. Grandiere climbed down from his seat, and the three entered the building together.

The place had once been a commodious dwelling house, but was now, like many others of the finest mansions in Washington, taken for the service of the government. A sentinel was on guard before the door. Mr. Force spoke a few words to him, and passed on with his party. He entered a front hall, and thence through a door on the right they passed into a large front room, furnished with seats all around its walls, and a long table at its back, with chairs behind it, and folios and stationery on its top. Two or three men in uniform sat behind this table, while all around the room, on the benches against the walls, sat a rough-looking score of men guarded by soldiers. There was another door on the right of the long table, and opening into a rear room. A sentinel or janitor stood at that door.

While they waited to be admitted to the presence of the commissioner, the door opened, and two prisoners came out, guarded by a detachment of soldiers.

“There he is! There is the head devil—and not in irons, either! And there—there, in his company—a prisoner, too, by all that is atrocious!—is my mate, Roland!”

The two gentlemen looked up, stared at the prisoners who were slowly crossing the room to the outer door, closely guarded by the soldiers—stared until the elder and stouter of the two lifted the back of his hand to his forehead in a mock salute, and smiled, while the younger fixed a gaze of yearning entreaty upon the face of his old captain, and then turned the same gaze upon his old friend.

Yes! the pirate’s first officer, taken, red-handed, with him, was Roland Bayard!

But who was the pirate himself?