Part 38

It so happened that in the correspondence Mr. Rogers had heard of a man in Missouri who said he was the Frederic Hague, and gave a pretty good account of matters before he left England, and had told Mr. Rogers's correspondent, a lawyer, of this very incident of the injury in the carriage-house, and stated that he had borne the scars of it all his life since. This had been communicated to Rogers, but the lawyer had added, in his letter, that, on the whole, he did not believe the man's story; that he had, as near as he could learn, been a gambler; had lived much, too, among the Indians; was a drunkard, and much broken down, and quite incoherent in his memory. Still he sometimes thought that he was, after all, the Frederic Hague so much wanted, but he could not conscientiously advise Mr. Rogers to spend any money on him.

When the fact of Frederic's "private mark" was called to mind, Rogers again took heart, and searched his papers for the lawyer's letters, but they could not be found. He fancied to himself that perhaps some secret emissary of Edward Hague had been rifling his papers, and he got into torrents of anger over it, till at last he swore he would trust no man, and would go out to America himself to find Frederic Hague, "and restore him to his lawful rights." His friends remonstrated, pointed him to the perils of the sea, the sickly character of a great portion of our Western States, etc.; but the hardy old man, for he was getting beyond middle age now, would hear to none of them. He made his will, left his affairs in good hands, and out to America he came, and it was three days after his arrival that I made his acquaintance. He could remember neither the Missouri lawyer's name nor that of his post office, and it was suggested to Mr. Rogers by an English friend, whom he found residing in New York, and who had been here long enough to learn that there is a difference between the vast extent of the United States and the confined area of England, that he had better employ a man to "pilot" him about the country, especially in the great West; and it chanced that, through an acquaintance of mine, to whom Mr. Rogers's want was made known, I was hit upon as the proper individual to consult, and Mr. Rogers and his friend called on me, and made known his business, giving me a good part of this story as I have detailed it. Other parts I, of course, obtained from others, for he did not, at first, let me into the secret of his present hatred of, and his former love for, Edward Hague. He was here as a sort of messenger of justice, as he would have me believe,--and as I did for a long time believe,--making pure self-sacrifices in the cause of right, to restore a man to his rightful possessions, and "see justice triumph."

We soon got ready, and started off for St. Louis, I having concluded that the best thing to be done was to hunt up that lawyer,--Mr. Rogers's correspondent,--and to go on to the ground, and find out the names of as many lawyers as I could, trusting to Mr. Rogers's memory to recollect the name if he should hear it; and we were in due time the guests of the Planter's Hotel, and went at once to prosecuting our inquiries. I proceeded to find the assistant clerk of the Supreme Court,--an old man, who had, since the territorial days of Missouri, done service as a court clerk, and knew almost everybody of any note in the State.

He gave us the names of all the lawyers in St. Louis, and in the adjoining counties,--Jefferson, St. Charles, Pike, Crawford, Franklin, Warren, etc., lists of which he chanced to have; and then named to us all the lawyers in other parts of the State whom he had chanced to know; but Mr. Rogers recognized none of them as his correspondent, and after a day spent in this sort of search, we returned to our hotel, and eventually sought our beds.

Finally, I was aroused out of a two hours' slumber by a servant, who told me that Mr. Rogers wanted me to get up, and come at once to his room.

"Has he a fit?" I asked, fearful that the old fellow had got desponding over our ill success, and worked himself into a fever, or something else.

"No; I reckon he hain't, massa," responded the darkey, opening the largest mouth I ever saw, and displaying a set of teeth formidable enough to frighten a man just awakened from sleep, "for he's up, poundin' 'roun'; but I do say, massa, his face _is_ juf as red as if he'd had a fit, or two uv 'em to th' same time, massa,--ugh! ugh!"

I pulled on my pants and coat, and proceeded to Mr. Rogers's room.

"My good fellow," said he, "I couldn't let you sleep any longer. That infernal name has come to my mind. My correspondent lived in Warren County somewhere,--Pinckney, I think is the name of his place, and I am sure the old clerk read his name to us to-day, but I could not recall it then."

I asked him _why_ "in the name of St. George," he didn't take his pencil and make a note of this, and let me sleep till morning, reminding him that we could not do anything till daylight. With English stupidity, he said he didn't think so far as that, and didn't suppose I was asleep, as he was not! And back to bed I went, without even thanking him for thus disturbing me. In the morning we again repaired to the old clerk, and found at last the name of Mr. Rogers's correspondent. He was a very shrewd lawyer, so said the old clerk, and I "wormed out" of him that the fellow was rather "tricky." At this time I knew nothing of Mr. Rogers's affair with the Vermont lawyer. He was rather ashamed of that, and I never heard a word about it till my visit to England subsequently. It was arranged that I go alone out to Pinckney, about twenty-five miles west, or north-west of St. Louis, and I departed--found the lawyer; and I would like to give his full name, for reasons which will suggest themselves to the reader as he goes on, but the man is still living, I hear; has since been a member of Congress (from another State than Missouri, however), and is believed to be a very honest, upright man in his present neighborhood; and, perhaps, he has properly won the esteem he enjoys. I believe in the right and privilege of scoundrels to repent, if they are so inclined (and here let me interpolate, that, in my opinion, if society at large would recognize and _respect_ such right and privilege, many a villain, who now preys upon communities, would lead a respectable life; and nine tenths of the poor fallen women, now "hedged in" (as that piquant and humanitary author, Miss Elizabeth Phelps, would express it), by the unforgiving spirit of the times, and confined to the low estate into which they are fallen, would abandon their unhappy mode of life, and become true and pure women again; and many of them, too, become the very best, noblest, and greatest women of the age).

Well, I found the lawyer; and such a man I never encountered before. Affable, "good-looking" in the general, but with a something so devilish about him--something indefinable--I have never met another like him, save within the last year from this writing, when I was closeted at the gubernatorial rooms with the governor of a certain Southern State,--the keenest mere politician, perhaps, now on the stage. I made my errand known at once to the lawyer, that is, I told him that I came as the emissary of his English correspondent, Mr. Rogers, and at the same time handed him a short note of introduction, which Mr. Rogers had prepared just before I started. This was a mistake; but I never suspected that I should find such a man to deal with. As he opened the note, he turned his back upon me, but a little too late, evidently, to hide an expression of triumph on his face. I instantly suspected foul play, and as instantly put myself into the mood to receive it.

"Ah, my friend Rogers has got as far as St. Louis, on his scent?" said he, turning about to me. "What does he expect?"

"The note of introduction tells you--does it not?"

"No, not exactly; Mr. Campbell" (the name I had assumed, for the reader knows, who has followed these pages, that I had been in St. Louis before, and there was a good reason now why I should not appear upon the register of the hotel by any of my old names); "but tell me what sort of a man is this Mr. Rogers. I have never seen him. I can only judge by his writing."

"Well, what do you judge by his writing?" I asked, resolved to tell him as little as need be.

"I hardly know, in fact. Is he a pretty resolute man--man of sanguinary temperament?"

"I am not technically acquainted with temperaments--couldn't tell what you would call his."

"Well, describe him; is he large or small, red or black-haired; old or young; hearty or ill?"

"You've seen a good many Englishmen in your life, I suppose," I replied.

"O, yes, sir; a great many."

"Well, to my eye, he's pretty much like all the rest."

"That's not very definite, sir; but I suppose you don't study these matters of temperament, etc., as much as we lawyers do. It is a part of our business. We must know our clients in order to serve them well."

"But, in this case, I don't see why it is necessary to know your client at all. No matter who he is; all he wants is to find Mr. Frederic Hague, and I have come to you to learn where he is, with instructions from Mr. Rogers to pay you for the trouble you have been at, and for whatever further assistance you may render him," I replied.

"Yes, yes; well--I should--should rather like to see Mr. Rogers first," drawlingly responded he; and I felt that I was in the hands of a practised scoundrel, as well as a practising lawyer, and I resolved to bring matters to a focus at once; and so I inquired, "Well, sir, what is your bill for past services, and what will you demand for pointing out Mr. Hague? Is he here with you?"

"No, he's not in this quarter now. I mean he lives in another State," returned he, hurriedly; for that word "now" had escaped his lips undesignedly.

"Well, I reckon I shall have to charge Mr. Rogers five hundred dollars for the trouble I've been at. It has cost a great deal of anxiety."

"Why, sir, if I understand Mr. Rogers aright, your correspondence with him was to the extent of only a half dozen letters at most; and you are not sure at that, it would seem, from what he says you wrote him, that you have found the veritable Frederic Hague. Suppose you divide up your bill--charge some reasonable sum for the services you have rendered, and let the rest of the five hundred remain contingent on your presenting to Mr. Rogers the real Mr. Hague?" said I. This seemed to open up to him a new vision of things.

"Well, I will," said he; "give me two hundred and fifty dollars down, and I will wait for the rest till I produce Mr. Hague."

"Are these your best terms?"

"Yes; I must be paid for my services, and Mr. Rogers can afford to pay, for he'll make Hague pay the bill finally, of course."

"I will report to Mr. Rogers," said I, "and will let you hear from me in a few days at most," I said. "Good day, sir."

He bade me a very pleasant day, hoped I'd have a pleasant ride back to St. Louis, and that our acquaintance, "so pleasantly inaugurated" (to use his own words), would continue, etc., in a most fascinating way, as if he felt that his little scheme for putting five hundred new dollars in his pocket was already a confirmed success.

But I had no notion at all that Mr. Rogers would suffer himself to be bled to the tune of two hundred and fifty dollars on a decided uncertainty, and two hundred and fifty more, too, on another uncertainty; and as that little word "now" had not escaped my notice, I thought best to institute some inquiries in the village about this Mr. Hague before I left. So, returning to the little hotel, where I stopped, I inquired about the lawyer in the place and vicinity, and soon found out who among them was this lawyer's greatest foe,--the thing I wished to learn; and finding that he lived in an adjoining town, about five miles away, I procured a horse and rode over there to consult him. He was quite the opposite of the other in personal appearance. Mr. John Howe (now dead, I hear with regret, for he was one of those men who ought to live always) was a frank, open-hearted, sturdy man, of fine intellect, scorning to do mean things, and was, by nature, the uncompromising foe of such men as the one I had just left. So I found him, and the more I talked with him the less homely he grew to my eye; for I confess he was called, in the vernacular of that quarter, "the homeliest man, by a heap, around these yere diggings." But he was good, and that's "better than riches."

I told him my story. He wasn't at all surprised at the lawyer's exactions, and told me that he doubted anybody's being about there by the name of Hague. Said that he had seen a man in the lawyer's office some three months before that would answer the description I gave of Hague, as to age, etc., but said I would find he was known by some other name; that the lawyer had doubtless picked him up on speculation, having probably seen one of the advertisements, and that Hague himself was in his power, and had probably been induced to change his name. He said the lawyer had a plantation in Arkansas, and occasionally went down to New Orleans. So that it would not be strange if he had encountered "Hague" somewhere, and brought him home, and made a sort of servant of him, while he was carrying on the correspondence. The man he had in his office was a wreck, and in his poverty easily controllable.

Mr. Howe agreed to make all inquiry possible into the matter at once, and I went back to the village; and making sundry acquaintances, I inquired after new comers, and eventually found that there was occasionally in the village, and sometimes with the lawyer, a fellow called John Dinsmore, who, on a drunken occasion, two months or so before, had boasted that he was the ward of an English lord, and had large estates in England, and that he was going back, by and by, with Squire ---- (the lawyer) to get his property. This was considered a drunken man's idle boast, and would have been forgotten but for my inquiry. I found out what persons had been most seen with this John,--for I was sure he was the man I wanted to find--and left some money in my informant's hands to encourage him in "the field of research," and instructed him to find out in as adroit a way as he could, where John could be found; and back I went to St. Louis, to see Mr. Rogers. I told him of my visit to the lawyer, and its results, without stating at first what I had subsequently done.

As I expected, Mr. Rogers was very wroth; but finally said, he supposed he would have to pay the five hundred dollars; he had come too far to lose his game now, he said. Whereupon I told him I hoped we should be able to avoid the exaction, and "take in" the lawyer--play a sharp game on him; and told him what further I had learned. The old man brightened up, and said he'd rather spend two hundred pounds, in his own way, than be swindled out of a hundred; and told me to "go ahead," and take my own time for a while. I went back to Warren County, and got scent of my man. A boon companion of his had told my "spy" that John had gone off to the lawyer's plantation in Arkansas, where he was a sort of supernumerary overseer; but where the plantation lay, nobody knew within nearer than fifty miles; at least my man could get no definite information. So I instructed my friend how to act, and sent him over to the lawyer's with a statement that a cousin of his (my friend) had got it into his head to buy out a plantation somewhere in Arkansas; that he had a plenty of money, and wanted a good plantation, and would stock it well; that he was coming down from Lewis County in a few days, and wanted him to go on "prospecting" with him. Could the lawyer give him any idea of where such a plantation could be found?

The bait took. The lawyer was not only ready to have good neighbors to his plantation, but was ready to sell his own for "a fair price." Of course this led to the naming of the place, and the time it would take to go there. The plantation was in the vicinity of Gascony, Jefferson County, on the Arkansas River, as my friend reported, on his return from the lawyer's, and I felt easy. I rode over to see Squire Howe, and told him of the situation of things. Meanwhile he had been active, and had learned that John Dinsmore was the name of the man he had seen in the lawyer's, and that he had gone to the plantation in Arkansas. So I felt quite assured that we were on the right track. That night I went back to the village--called next day on the lawyer, and told him that Mr. Rogers would not pay him over a hundred dollars to produce Mr. Hague; to which he replied, in a very gruff and decided way,--

"He can't have him short of my first figures; no, he shall not have him now for less than a thousand dollars."

"Well," said I, "that ends the matter. Mr. Rogers will return to England, I think, without his man, rather than pay you over a hundred dollars. It won't be any loss to him, except what he has already been at, if he don't find him; but," said I, "I guess we'll leave it this way. You may hear from him again or you may not. He will not remain in this country over a month longer, at most."

"O, he won't go away without his man," said he, with a soft, oily voice; "he'll think better of it, and pay the money, before he returns."

"Perhaps so," said I; and I bade him a pleasant good day. We shook hands quite cordially, and I got off to St. Louis as soon as possible, and the next day in the afternoon found us on board the steamer "Pike, No. 9,"--a Cincinnati and New Orleans boat, which had been run out of line up to St. Louis, on an extra occasion,--on our way to Napoleon, Arkansas, where we arrived duly, with no noticeable incidents on board (save one, and that is the key to another narrative I may write out for this work), "always excepting," of course, "as worthy of note," the gambling, tippling, bowie-knife exercises, and so forth, by which steamboating on the Mississippi used, more than in later years, to be rendered "interesting and fascinating;" and the next day the shaky steamboat "Little Rock" bore us on our way up the Arkansas.

We arrived safely at Gascony, and were not many hours in finding our way to the plantation, and in the presence of Frederic Hague, alias John Dinsmore. Mr. Rogers was a most delighted man, when, by sundry questions, he assured himself of the identity of the man; but he could not be satisfied till Hague pulled off his flannel wrapper (for he wore no shirt, poor fellow, and everybody who can wears flannels, in that region, in summer as well as winter). The dirty old wrapper tore into pieces in the operation; and I dare say that Hague had not removed it before in two months. But there was the "private mark." There was no disputing that; and Mr. Rogers ordered, on the evening of that day, the richest dinner ever cooked, I presume, at a country hotel in that State. He did not forswear wines, such as they were, and both he and Hague put me quite to shame with the amount of liquor they drank. But I must hasten with my story.

We learned from Hague that the Missouri lawyer had picked him up at Napoleon one day, learned something of his history, called to mind an advertisement he had seen, took him on to Missouri, as he was at that time on his way home, and had a written contract with him for one half of his estate, if he should recover it. He had kept him there and on the plantation in Arkansas, and sometimes wrote him, always encouragingly, about the matter of the estate. Hague had got it into his head that that lawyer was the only authorized person to treat with, and he was jubilant when he found himself out of his clutches.

We were to return to St. Louis, in any event, to see after some manufacturing matters in which Mr. Rogers had taken some interest, and I felt, and so did Hague, that it would be well enough to have a little fun with the lawyer. So, after we arrived at St. Louis, I went out to Warren County to see him again, and told him I was ready to give him the two hundred and fifty dollars down, and two hundred and fifty more on his producing the identical Frederic Hague, if he would put himself under bonds of five hundred dollars, or put the money in the hands of the village landlord, to be paid over to me in case his Frederic Hague should, under my cross-examination, fail to assert himself to be the true Frederic Hague. He assented, being positively sure of his five hundred dollars, as he thought, and I drew up to his table and scratched off a short agreement, taking care to word it as indicated above. He was to produce Hague within a week and a half or two weeks, and I was to wait there or in St. Louis.

The next day Hague came straggling along, playing drunk, and told the lawyer a proper story; and he told Hague his time was come--that an Englishman would be there to see him, and take him home, to restore to him his estate, and he wanted Hague to make some alteration in their contract. Hague consented, but when he got the paper in his hands he feigned crazy, had a fit, a proper one, and tore and in part ate up the contract, and felt "relieved," as he said afterwards.

The lawyer caused me to be sent for. Luckily, as he thought, I had not left the village. When I reached his office he took me aside very privately, and told me the "bird" had dropped down upon him, all of a sudden, in a very providential way, and that now he would show me Mr. Hague, when I was ready to deposit, and he would do the same. The landlord was sent for, preliminaries arranged, and Frederic Hague called in. The lawyer questioned him before me, and he answered all clearly, even to having a "private mark on his shoulder," etc.

"He's your witness now," said the lawyer, triumphantly, probably feeling the five hundred dollars itching in his palms. And I commenced, with confidence of success, for Hague and I had practised "our parts," and "rehearsed" to my satisfaction.

"You say your name is 'Frederic Hague'?"

"Yes, sir."

"How do you know?"

"That's what they call me."

"Ah! well, do they call you anything else?"

"Yes, sir."

"What?"

"John Dinsmore."

"Then John Dinsmore is as much your name as Frederic Hague?"

"Yes, sir."

"Who calls you John Dinsmore?"

"Everybody here and in Arkansas."

"Who first called you John Dinsmore?"

"Mr. ----" (the lawyer); "he gave me the name--said that was my proper name; and I've used it ever since."

"Who gave you the name Frederic Hague?"

"I don't know."

"Were you ever in England, sir? Come, now, sir, tell the truth, and no lying."

"Seems as though I was."

"Seems so? What makes it seem so?"

"Why, I suppose it is because Mr. ----" (the lawyer), "has told me so so often."

"Has he told you about one Frederic Hague, a man by the same name you sometimes have borne?"

"Yes, sir."

"A great deal?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you have come to think that you are that Frederic Hague? Now, sir, tell me if you dare assert that you are the veritable Frederic Hague, the heir to the estate of one Oliver Hague, about which he has told you? Don't let us have anything but the truth now, sir."

"No, sir; I don't say that I dare assert it."

"Did you ever have any notice that you were entitled to any property at all in England, till Mr. ---- told you so?"

"No, sir."

"Well, do you now think you are entitled?"

"I don't know anything about it--"

"O, the fool," here broke in the lawyer; "he's stultified, or he's lied to me. Here, 'John,' show this man the scars on your shoulder, and tell him the story you told me about it."

"What story?"

"Why the story about the fall in the carriage house."

"Why, I never told you any such story--did I? I told you I had a dream once; I suppose that is what you mean," said John, stripping himself meanwhile.