ads:
The Blockade Runners
Jules Verne
The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Blockade Runners, by Jules Verne
#32 in our series by Jules Verne
Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing
this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.
This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project
Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the
header without written permission.
Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the
eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is
important information about your specific rights and restrictions in
how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a
donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.
**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
Title: The Blockade Runners
Author: Jules Verne
Release Date: September, 2005 [EBook #8992]
[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
[This file was first posted on August 30, 2003]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: UTF-8
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS ***
Produced by Norman M. Wolcott
ads:
Livros Grátis
http://www.livrosgratis.com.br
Milhares de livros grátis para download.
The Blockade Runners by Jules Verne
[Redactor’s Note: The Blockade Runners (number V008 in the T&M numerical listing of Verne's
works) is a translation of Les forceurs de blocus (1871). The Blockade Runners, a novella, was
included along with A Floating City in the first english and french editions of this work. This
translation, which follows that of Sampson and Low (UK) and Scribners (US) is by “N. D’Anvers”,
pseudonymn for Mrs. Arthur Bell (d. 1933) who also translated other Verne books. It is also
included in the fifteen volume Parke edition of the works of Jules Verne (1911). There is another
translation by Henry Frith which was published by Routledge (1876).
Both of these stories are about ships; Floating City about the largest ship of the time, the Great
Eastern, and Blockade Runners about one of the fastest, the Dolphin.
This HTML version was prepared from public domain sources by Norman M. Wolcott, 2003,
The Blockade Runners
Table of Contents
I THE DOLPHIN
II GETTING UNDER SAIL
III THINGS ARE NOT WHAT THEY SEEM
IV CROCKSTON’S TRICK
V
THE SHOT FROM THE IROQUOIS, AND MISS JENNY’S
ARGUMENTS
VI SULLIVAN ISLAND CHANNEL
VII A SOUTHERN GENERAL
VIII THE ESCAPE
IX BETWEEN TWO FIRES
X ST. MUNGO
THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS
Chapter I
THE DOLPHIN
The Clyde was the first river whose waters were lashed into foam by a steam-boat. It was in 1812
when the steamer called the Comet ran between Glasgow and Greenock, at the speed of six miles
an hour. Since that time more than a million of steamers or packet-boats have plied this Scotch
river, and the inhabitants of Glasgow must be as familiar as any people with the wonders of steam
navigation.
However, on the 3rd of December, 1862, an immense crowd, composed of shipowners,
merchants, manufacturers, workmen, sailors, women, and children, thronged the muddy streets of
Glasgow, all going in the direction of Kelvin Dock, the large shipbuilding premises belonging to
Messrs. Tod & MacGregor. This last name especially proves that the descendants of the famous
Highlanders have become manufacturers, and that they have made workmen of all the vassals of
the old clan chieftains.
Kelvin Dock is situated a few minutes’ walk from the town, on the right bank of the Clyde. Soon the
ads:
immense timber-yards were thronged with spectators; not a part of the quay, not a wall of the
wharf, not a factory roof showed an unoccupied place; the river itself was covered with craft of all
descriptions, and the heights of Govan, on the left bank, swarmed with spectators.
There was, however, nothing extraordinary in the event about to take place; it was nothing but the
launching of a ship, and this was an everyday affair with the people of Glasgow. Had the Dolphin,
then — for that was the name of the ship built by Messrs. Tod & MacGregor — some special
peculiarity? To tell the truth, it had none.
It was a large ship, about 1,500 tons, in which everything combined to obtain superior speed. Her
engines, of 500 horse-power, were from the workshops of Lancefield Forge; they worked two
screws, one on either side the stern-post, completely independent of each other. As for the depth
of water the Dolphin would draw, it must be very inconsiderable; connoisseurs were not deceived,
and they concluded rightly that this ship was destined for shallow straits. But all these particulars
could not in any way justify the eagerness of the people: taken altogether, the Dolphin was nothing
more or less than an ordinary ship. Would her launching present some mechanical difficulty to be
overcome? Not any more than usual. The Clyde had received many a ship of heavier tonnage, and
the launching of the Dolphin would take place in the usual manner.
In fact, when the water was calm, the moment the ebb-tide set in, the workmen began to operate.
Their mallets kept perfect time falling on the wedges meant to raise the ship’s keel: soon a shudder
ran through the whole of her massive structure; although she had only been slightly raised, one
could see that she shook, and then gradually began to glide down the well greased wedges, and in
a few moments she plunged into the Clyde. Her stern struck the muddy bed of the river, then she
raised herself on the top of a gigantic wave, and, carried forward by her start, would have been
dashed against the quay of the Govan timber-yards, if her anchors had not restrained her.
The launch had been perfectly successful, the Dolphin swayed quietly on the waters of the Clyde,
all the spectators clapped their hands when she took possession of her natural element, and loud
hurrahs arose from either bank.
But wherefore these cries and this applause? Undoubtedly the most eager of the spectators would
have been at a loss to explain the reason of his enthusiasm. What was the cause, then, of the
lively interest excited by this ship? Simply the mystery which shrouded her destination; it was not
known to what kind of commerce she was to be appropriated, and in questioning different groups
the diversity of opinion on this important subject was indeed astonishing.
However, the best informed, at least those who pretended to be so, agreed in saying that the
steamer was going to take part in the terrible war which was then ravaging the United States of
America, but more than this they did not know, and whether the Dolphin was a privateer, a
transport ship, or an addition to the Federal marine was what no one could tell.
“Hurrah!” cried one, affirming that the Dolphin had been built for the Southern States.
“Hip! hip! hip!” cried another, swearing that never had a faster boat crossed to the American
coasts.
Thus its destination was unknown, and in order to obtain any reliable information one must be an
intimate friend, or, at any rate, an acquaintance of Vincent Playfair & Co., of Glasgow.
A rich, powerful, intelligent house of business was that of Vincent Playfair & Co., in a social sense,
an old and honourable family, descended from those tobacco lords who built the finest quarters of
the town. These clever merchants, by an act of the Union, had founded the first Glasgow
warehouse for dealing in tobacco from Virginia and Maryland. Immense fortunes were realised;
mills and foundries sprang up in all parts, and in a few years the prosperity of the city attained its
height.
The house of Playfair remained faithful to the enterprising spirit of its ancestors, it entered into the
most daring schemes, and maintained the honour of English commerce. The principal, Vincent
Playfair, a man of fifty, with a temperament essentially practical and decided, although somewhat
daring, was a genuine shipowner. Nothing affected him beyond commercial questions, not even
the political side of the transactions, otherwise he was a perfectly loyal and honest man.
However, he could not lay claim to the idea of building and fitting up the Dolphin; she belonged to
his nephew, James Playfair, a fine young man of thirty, the boldest skipper of the British merchant
marine.
It was one day at the Tontine coffee-room under the arcades of the town hall, that James Playfair,
after having impatiently scanned the American journal, disclosed to his uncle an adventurous
scheme.
“Uncle Vincent,” said he, coming to the point at once, “there are two millions of pounds to be
gained in less than a month.”
“And what to risk?” asked Uncle Vincent.
“A ship and a cargo.”
“Nothing else?”
“Nothing, except the crew and the captain, and that does not reckon for much.”
“Let us see,” said Uncle Vincent.
“It is all seen,” replied James Playfair. “You have read the Tribune, the New York Herald, The
Times, the Richmond Inquirer, the American Review?”
“Scores of times, nephew.”
“You believe, like me, that the war of the United States will last a long time still?”
“A very long time.”
“You know how much this struggle will affect the interests of England, and especially those of
Glasgow?”
“And more especially still the house of Playfair & Co.,” replied Uncle Vincent.
“Theirs especially,” added the young Captain.
“I worry myself about it every day, James, and I cannot think without terror of the commercial
disasters which this war may produce; not but that the house of Playfair is firmly established,
nephew; at the same time it has correspondents which may fail. Ah! those Americans, slave-
holders or Abolitionists, I have no faith in them!”
If Vincent Playfair was wrong in thus speaking with respect to the great principles of humanity,
always and everywhere superior to personal interests, he was, nevertheless, right from a
commercial point of view. The most important material was failing at Glasgow, the cotton famine
became every day more threatening, thousands of workmen were reduced to living upon public
charity. Glasgow possessed 25,000 looms, by which 625,000 yards of cotton were spun daily; that
is to say, fifty millions of pounds yearly. From these numbers it may be guessed what disturbances
were caused in the commercial part of the town when the raw material failed altogether. Failures
were hourly taking place, the manufactories were closed, and the workmen were dying of
starvation.
It was the sight of this great misery which had put the idea of his bold enterprise into James
Playfair’s head.
“I will go for cotton, and will get it, cost what it may.”
But, as he also was a merchant as well as his uncle Vincent, he resolved to carry out his plan by
way of exchange, and to make his proposition under the guise of a commercial enterprise.
“Uncle Vincent,” said he, “this is my idea.”
“Well, James?”
“It is simply this: we will have a ship built of superior sailing qualities and great bulk.”
“That is quite possible.”
“We will load her with ammunition of war, provisions, and clothes.”
“Just so.”
“I will take the command of this steamer, I will defy all the ships of the Federal marine for speed,
and I will run the blockade of one of the southern ports.”
“You must make a good bargain for your cargo with the Confederates, who will be in need of it,”
said his uncle.
“And I shall return laden with cotton.”
“Which they will give you for nothing.”
“As you say, Uncle. Will it answer?”
“It will; but shall you be able to get there?”
“I shall, if I have a good ship.”
“One can be made on purpose. But the crew?”
“Oh, I will find them. I do not want many men; enough to work with, that is all. It is not a question of
fighting with the Federals, but distancing them.”
“They shall be distanced,” said Uncle Vincent, in a peremptory tone; “but now, tell me, James, to
what port of the American coast do you think of going?”
“Up to now, Uncle, ships have run the blockade of New Orleans, Wilmington, and Savannah, but I
think of going straight to Charleston; no English boat has yet been able to penetrate into the
harbour, except the Bermuda. I will do like her, and, if my ship draws but very little water, I shall be
able to go where the Federalists will not be able to follow.”
“The fact is,” said Uncle Vincent, “Charleston is overwhelmed with cotton; they are even burning it
to get rid of it.”
“Yes,” replied James; “besides, the town is almost invested; Beauregard is running short of
provisions, and he will pay me a golden price for my cargo!”
“Well, nephew, and when will you start?”
“In six months; I must have the long winter nights to aid me.”
“It shall be as you wish, nephew.”
“It is settled, then, Uncle?”
“Settled!”
“Shall it be kept quiet?”
“Yes; better so.”
And this is how it was that five months later the steamer Dolphin was launched from the Kelvin
Dock timber-yards, and no one knew her real destination.
Chapter II
GETTING UNDER SAIL
The Dolphin was rapidly equipped, her rigging was ready, and there was nothing to do but fit her
up. She carried three schooner-masts, an almost useless luxury; in fact, the Dolphin did not rely on
the wind to escape the Federalists, but rather on her powerful engines.
Towards the end of December a trial of the steamer was made in the gulf of the Clyde. Which was
the more satisfied, builder or captain, it is impossible to say. The new steamer shot along
wonderfully, and the patent log showed a speed of seventeen miles an hour, a speed which as yet
no English, French, or American boat had ever obtained. The Dolphin would certainly have gained
by several lengths in a sailing match with the fastest opponent.
The loading was begun on the 25th of December, the steamer having ranged along the steamboat-
quay a little below Glasgow Bridge, the last which stretches across the Clyde before its mouth.
Here the wharfs were heaped with a heavy cargo of clothes, ammunition, and provisions which
were rapidly carried to the hold of the Dolphin. The nature of this cargo betrayed the mysterious
destination of the ship, and the house of Playfair could no longer keep it secret; besides, the
Dolphin must not be long before she started. No American cruiser had been signalled in English
waters; and, then, when the question of getting the crew came, how was it possible to keep silent
any longer? They could not embark them, even, without informing the men whither they were
bound, for, after all, it was a matter of life and death, and when one risks one’s life, at least it is
satisfactory to know how and wherefore.
However, this prospect hindered no one; the pay was good, and everyone had a share in the
speculation, so that a great number of the finest sailors soon presented themselves. James
Playfair was only embarrassed which to choose, but he chose well, and in twenty-four hours his
muster-roll bore the names of thirty sailors who would have done honour to her Majesty“s yacht.
The departure was settled for the 3rd of January; on the 31st of December the Dolphin was ready,
her hold full of ammunition and provisions, and nothing was keeping her now.
The skipper went on board on the 2nd of January, and was giving a last look round his ship with a
captain’s eye, when a man presented himself at the fore part of the Dolphin, and asked to speak
with the Captain. One of the sailors led him on to the poop.
He was a strong, hearty-looking fellow, with broad shoulders and ruddy face, the simple
expression of which ill-concealed a depth of wit and mirth. He did not seem to be accustomed to a
seafaring life, and looked about him with the air of a man little used to being on board a ship;
however, he assumed the manner of a Jack-tar, looking up at the rigging of the Dolphin, and
waddling in true sailor fashion.
When he had reached the Captain, he looked fixedly at him, and said, “Captain James Playfair?”
“The same,” replied the skipper. “What do you want with me?”
“To join your ship.”
“There is no room; the crew is already complete.”
“Oh, one man, more or less, will not be in the way; quite the contrary.”
“You think so?” said James Playfair, giving a sidelong glance at his questioner.
“I am sure of it,” replied the sailor.
“But who are you?” asked the Captain.
“A rough sailor, with two strong arms, which, I can tell you, are not to be despised on board a ship,
and which I now have the honour of putting at your service.”
“But there are other ships besides the Dolphin, and other captains besides James Playfair. Why do
you come here?”
“Because it is on board the Dolphin that I wish to serve, and under the orders of Captain James
Playfair.”
“I do not want you.”
“There is always need of a strong man, and if to prove my strength you will try me with three or four
of the strongest fellows of your crew, I am ready.”
“That will do,” replied James Playfair. “And what is your name?”
“Crockston, at your service.”
The Captain made a few steps backwards in order to get a better view of the giant who presented
himself in this odd fashion. The height, the build, and the look of the sailor did not deny his
pretensions to strength.
“Where have you sailed?” asked Playfair of him.
“A little everywhere.”
“And do you know where the Dolphin is bound for?”
“Yes; and that is what tempts me.”
“Ah, well! I have no mind to let a fellow of your stamp escape me. Go and find the first mate, and
get him to enrol you.”
Having said this, the Captain expected to see the man turn on his heels and run to the bows, but
he was mistaken. Crockston did not stir.
“Well! did you hear me?” asked the Captain.
“Yes, but it is not all,” replied the sailor. “I have something else to ask you.”
“Ah! You are wasting my time,” replied James, sharply; “I have not a moment to lose in talking.”
“I shall not keep you long,” replied Crockston; “two words more and that is all; I was going to tell
you that I have a nephew.”
“He has a fine uncle, then,” interrupted James Playfair.
“Hah! Hah!” laughed Crockston.
“Have you finished?” asked the Captain, very impatiently.
“Well, this is what I have to say, when one takes the uncle, the nephew comes into the bargain.”
“Ah! indeed!”
“Yes, that is the custom, the one does not go without the other.”
“And what is this nephew of yours?”
“A lad of fifteen whom I am going to train to the sea; he is willing to learn, and will make a fine
sailor some day.”
“How now, Master Crockston,” cried James Playfair; “do you think the Dolphin is a training-school
for cabin-boys?”
“Don’t let us speak ill of cabin-boys: there was one of them who became Admiral Nelson, and
another Admiral Franklin.”
“Upon my honour, friend,” replied James Playfair, “you have a way of speaking which I like; bring
your nephew, but if I don’t find the uncle the hearty fellow he pretends to be, he will have some
business with me. Go, and be back in an hour.”
Crockston did not want to be told twice; be bowed awkwardly to the Captain of the Dolphin, and
went on to the quay. An hour afterwards he came on board with his nephew, a boy of fourteen or
fifteen, rather delicate and weakly looking, with a timid and astonished air, which showed that he
did not possess his uncle’s self-possession and vigorous corporeal qualities. Crockston was even
obliged to encourage him by such words as these:
“Come,” said he, “don’t be frightened, they are not going to eat us, besides, there is yet time to
return.”
“No, no,” replied the young man, “and may God protect us!”
The same day the sailor Crockston and his nephew were inscribed in the muster-roll of the
Dolphin.
The next morning, at five o’clock, the fires of the steamer were well fed, the deck trembled under
the vibrations of the boiler, and the steam rushed hissing through the escape-pipes. The hour of
departure had arrived.
A considerable crowd, in spite of the early hour, flocked on the quays and on Glasgow Bridge; they
had come to salute the bold steamer for the last time. Vincent Playfair was there to say good-bye
to Captain James, but he conducted himself on this occasion like a Roman of the good old times.
His was a heroic countenance, and the two loud kisses with which he gratified his nephew were
the indication of a strong mind.
“Go, James,” said he to the young Captain, “go quickly, and come back quicker still; above all,
don’t abuse your position. Sell at a good price, make a good bargain, and you will have your
uncle’s esteem.”
On this recommendation, borrowed from the manual of the perfect merchant, the uncle and
nephew separated, and all the visitors left the boat.
At this moment Crockston and John Stiggs stood together on the forecastle, while the former
remarked to his nephew, “This is well, this is well; before two o’clock we shall be at sea, and I have
a good opinion of a voyage which begins like this.”
For reply the novice pressed Crockston’s hand.
James Playfair then gave the orders for departure.
“Have we pressure on?” he asked of his mate.
“Yes, Captain,” replied Mr. Mathew.
“Well, then, weigh anchor.”
This was immediately done, and the screws began to move. The Dolphin trembled, passed
between the ships in the port, and soon disappeared from the sight of the people, who shouted
their last hurrahs.
The descent of the Clyde was easily accomplished, one might almost say that this river had been
made by the hand of man, and even by the hand of a master. For sixty years, thanks to the
dredges and constant dragging, it has gained fifteen feet in depth, and its breadth has been tripled
between the quays and the town. Soon the forests of masts and chimneys were lost in the smoke
and fog; the noise of the foundry hammers and the hatchets of the timber-yards grew fainter in the
distance. After the village of Partick had been passed the factories gave way to country houses
and villas. The Dolphin, slackening her speed, sailed between the dykes which carry the river
above the shores, and often through a very narrow channel, which, however, is only a small
inconvenience for a navigable river, for, after all, depth is of more importance than width. The
steamer, guided by one of those excellent pilots from the Irish sea, passed without hesitation
between floating buoys, stone columns, and biggings, surmounted with lighthouses, which mark
the entrance to the channel. Beyond the town of Renfrew, at the foot of Kilpatrick hills, the Clyde
grew wider. Then came Bouling Bay, at the end of which opens the mouth of the canal which joints
Edinburgh to Glasgow. Lastly, at the height of four hundred feet from the ground, was seen the
outline of Dumbarton Castle, almost indiscernible through the mists, and soon the harbour-boats of
Glasgow were rocked on the waves which the Dolphin caused. Some miles farther on Greenock,
the birthplace of James Watt, was passed: the Dolphin now found herself at the mouth of the
Clyde, and at the entrance of the gulf by which it empties its waters into the Northern Ocean. Here
the first undulations of the sea were felt, and the steamer ranged along the picturesque coast of
the Isle of Arran. At last the promontory of Cantyre, which runs out into the channel, was doubled;
the Isle of Rattelin was hailed, the pilot returned by a shore-boat to his cutter, which was cruising in
the open sea; the Dolphin, returning to her Captain’s authority, took a less frequented route round
the north of Ireland, and soon, having lost sight of the last European land, found herself in the open
ocean.
Chapter III
THINGS ARE NOT WHAT THEY SEEM
The Dolphin had a good crew, not fighting men, or boarding sailors, but good working men, and
that was all she wanted. These brave, determined fellows were all, more or less, merchants; they
sought a fortune rather than glory; they had no flag to display, no colours to defend with cannon; in
fact, all the artillery on board consisted of two small swivel signal-guns.
The Dolphin shot bravely across the water, and fulfilled the utmost expectations of both builder and
captain. Soon she passed the limit of British seas; there was not a ship in sight; the great ocean
route was free; besides, no ship of the Federal marine would have a right to attack her beneath the
English flag. Followed she might be, and prevented from forcing the blockade, and precisely for
this reason had James Playfair sacrificed everything to the speed of his ship, in order not to be
pursued.
Howbeit a careful watch was kept on board, and, in spite of the extreme cold, a man was always in
the rigging ready to signal the smallest sail that appeared on the horizon. When evening came,
Captain James gave the most precise orders to Mr. Mathew.
“Don’t leave the man on watch too long in the rigging; the cold may seize him, and in that case it is
impossible to keep a good look-out; change your men often.”
“I understand, Captain,” replied Mr. Mathew.
“Try Crockston for that work; the fellow pretends to have excellent sight; it must be put to trial; put
him on the morning watch, he will have the morning mists to see through. If anything particular
happens call me.”
This said, James Playfair went to his cabin. Mr. Mathew called Crockston, and told him the
Captain’s orders.
“To-morrow, at six o’clock,” said he, “you are to relieve watch of the main masthead.”
For reply, Crockston gave a decided grunt, but Mr. Mathew had hardly turned his back when the
sailor muttered some incomprehensible words, and then cried:
“What on earth did he say about the mainmast?”
At this moment his nephew, John Stiggs, joined him on the forecastle.
“Well, my good Crockston,” said he.
“It’s all right, all right,” said the seaman, with a forced smile; “there is only one thing, this wretched
boat shakes herself like a dog coming out of the water, and it makes my head confused.”
“Dear Crockston, and it is for my sake.”
“For you and him,” replied Crockston, “but not a word about that, John. Trust in God, and He will
not forsake you.”
So saying, John Stiggs and Crockston went to the sailor’s berth, but the sailor did not lie down
before he had seen the young novice comfortably settled in the narrow cabin which he had got for
him.
The next day, at six o’clock in the morning, Crockston got up to go to his place; he went on deck,
where the first officer ordered him to go up into the rigging, and keep good watch.
At these words the sailor seemed undecided what to do; then, making up his mind, he went
towards the bows of the Dolphin.
“Well, where are you off to now?” cried Mr. Mathew.
“Where you sent me,” answered Crockston.
“I told you to go to the mainmast.”
“And I am going there,” replied the sailor, in an ununconcerned tone, continuing his way to the
poop.
“Are you a fool?” cried Mr. Mathew, impatiently; “you are looking for the bars of the main on the
foremast. You are like a cockney, who doesn’t know how to twist a cat-o’-nine-tails, or make a
splice. On board what ship can you have been, man? The mainmast, stupid, the mainmast!”
The sailors who had run up to hear what was going on burst out laughing when they saw
Crockston’s disconcerted look, as he went back to the forecastle.
“So,” said he, looking up the mast, the top of which was quite invisible through the morning mists;
“so, am I to climb up here?”
“Yes,” replied Mr. Mathew, “and hurry yourself! By St. Patrick, a Federal ship would have time to
get her bowsprit fast in our rigging before that lazy fellow could get to his post. Will you go up?”
Without a word, Crockston got on the bulwarks with some difficulty; then he began to climb the
rigging with most visible awkwardness, like a man who did not know how to make use of his hands
or feet. When he had reached the topgallant, instead of springing lightly on to it, he remained
motionless, clinging to the ropes, as if he had been seized with giddiness. Mr. Mathew, irritated by
his stupidity, ordered him to come down immediately.
“That fellow there,” said he to the boatswain, “has never been a sailor in his life. Johnston, just go
and see what he has in his bundle.”
The boatswain made haste to the sailor’s berth.
In the meantime Crockston was with difficulty coming down again, but, his foot having slipped, he
slid down the rope he had hold of, and fell heavily on the deck.
“Clumsy blockhead! land-lubber!” cried Mr. Mathew, by way of consolation. “What did you come to
do on board the Dolphin! Ah! you entered as an able seaman, and you cannot even distinguish the
main from the foremast! I shall have a little talk with you.”
Crockston made no attempt to speak; he bent his back like a man resigned to anything he might
have to bear; just then the boatswain returned.
“This,” said he to the first officer, “is all that I have found; a suspicious portfolio with letters.”
“Give them here,” said Mr. Mathew. “Letters with Federal stamps! Mr. Halliburtt, of Boston! An
Abolitionist! a Federalist! Wretch! you are nothing but a traitor, and have sneaked on board to
betray us! Never mind, you will be paid for your trouble with the cat-o’-nine-tails! Boatswain, call
the Captain, and you others just keep an eye on that rogue there.”
Crockston received these compliments with a hideous grimace, but he did not open his lips. They
had fastened him to the capstan, and he could move neither hand nor foot.
A few minutes later James Playfair came out of his cabin and went to the forecastle, where Mr.
Mathew immediately acquainted him with the details of the case.
“What have you to say?” asked James Playfair, scarcely able to restrain his anger.
“Nothing,” replied Crockston.
“And what did you come on board my ship for?”
“Nothing.”
“And what do you expect from me now?”
“Nothing.”
“Who are you? An American, as letters seem to prove?” Crockston did not answer.
“Boatswain,” said James Playfair, “fifty lashes with the cat-o’-nine-tails to loosen his tongue. Will
that be enough, Crockston?”
“It will remain to be seen,” replied John Stiggs’ uncle without moving a muscle.
“Now then, come along, men,” said the boatswain.
At this order, two strong sailors stripped Crockston of his woollen jersey; they had already seized
the formidable weapon, and laid it across the prisoner’s shoulders, when the novice, John Stiggs,
pale and agitated, hurried on deck.
“Captain!” exclaimed he.
“Ah! the nephew!” remarked James Playfair.
“Captain,” repeated the novice, with a violent effort to steady his voice, “I will tell you what
Crockston does not want to say. I will hide it no longer; yes, he is American, and so am I; we are
both enemies of the slave-holders, but not traitors come on board to betray the Dolphin into the
hands of the Federalists.”
“What did you come to do, then?” asked the Captain, in a severe tone, examining the novice
attentively. The latter hesitated a few seconds before replying, then he said, “Captain, I should like
to speak to you in private.”
Whilst John Stiggs made this request, James Playfair did not cease to look carefully at him; the
sweet young face of the novice, his peculiarly gentle voice, the delicacy and whiteness of his
hands, hardly disguised by paint, the large eyes, the animation of which could not bide their
tenderness — all this together gave rise to a certain suspicion in the Captain’s mind. When John
Stiggs had made his request, Playfair glanced fixedly at Crockston, who shrugged his shoulders;
then he fastened a questioning look on the novice, which the latter could not withstand, and said
simply to him, “Come.”
John Stiggs followed the Captain on to the poop, and then James Playfair, opening the door of his
cabin, said to the novice, whose cheeks were pale with emotion, “Be so kind as to walk in, miss.”
John, thus addressed, blushed violently, and two tears rolled involuntarily down his cheeks.
“Don’t be alarmed, miss,” said James Playfair, in a gentle voice, “but be so good as to tell me how I
come to have the honour of having you on board?”
The young girl hesitated a moment, then, reassured by the Captain’s look, she made up her mind
to speak.
“Sir,” said she, “I wanted to join my father at Charleston; the town is besieged by land and
blockaded by sea. I knew not how to get there, when I heard that the Dolphin meant to force the
blockade. I came on board your ship, and I beg you to forgive me if I acted without your consent,
which you would have refused me.”
“Certainly,” said James Playfair.
“I did well, then, not to ask you,” resumed the young girl, with a firmer voice.
The Captain crossed his arms, walked round his cabin, and then came back.
“What is your name?” said he.
“Jenny Halliburtt.”
“Your father, if I remember rightly the address on the letters, is he not from Boston?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And a Northerner is thus in a southern town in the thickest of the war?”
“My father is a prisoner; he was at Charleston when the first shot of the Civil War was fired, and
the troops of the Union driven from Fort Sumter by the Confederates. My father’s opinions exposed
him to the hatred of the slavist part, and by the order of General Beauregard he was imprisoned. I
was then in England, living with a relation who has just died, and left alone, with no help but that of
Crockston, our faithful servant, I wished to go to my father and share his prison with him.”
“What was Mr. Halliburtt, then?” asked James Playfair.
“A loyal and brave journalist,” replied Jenny proudly, one of the noblest editors of the Tribune, and
the one who was the boldest in defending the cause of the negroes.”
“An Abolitionist,” cried the Captain angrily; “one of those men who, under the vain pretence of
abolishing slavery, have deluged their country with blood and ruin.”
“Sir!” replied Jenny Halliburtt, growing pale, “you are insulting my father; you must not forget that I
stand alone to defend him.”
The young Captain blushed scarlet; anger mingled with shame struggled in his breast; perhaps he
would have answered the young girl, but he succeeded in restraining himself, and, opening the
door of the cabin, he called “Boatswain!”
The boatswain came to him directly.
“This cabin will henceforward belong to Miss Jenny Halliburtt. Have a cot made ready for me at the
end of the poop; that’s all I want.”
The boatswain looked with a stupefied stare at the young novice addressed in a feminine name,
but on a sign from James Playfair he went out.
“And now, miss, you are at home,” said the young Captain of the Dolphin. Then he retired.
Chapter IV
CROCKSTON’S TRICK
It was not long before the whole crew knew Miss Halliburtt’s story, which Crockston was no longer
hindered from telling. By the Captain’s orders he was released from the capstan, and the cat-
o’-nine-tails returned to its Place.
“A pretty animal,” said Crockston, “especially when it shows its velvety paws.”
As soon as he was free, he went down to the sailors’ berths, found a small portmanteau, and
carried it to Miss Jenny; the young girl was now able to resume her feminine attire, but she
remained in her cabin, and did not again appear on deck.
As for Crockston, it was well and duly agreed that, as he was no more a sailor than a horse-guard,
he should be exempt from all duty on board.
In the meanwhile the Dolphin, with her twin screws cutting the waves, sped rapidly across the
Atlantic, and there was nothing now to do but keep a strict look-out. The day following the
discovery of Miss Jenny’s identity, James Playfair paced the deck at the poop with a rapid step; he
had made no attempt to see the young girl and resume the conversation of the day before.
Whilst he was walking to and fro, Crockston passed him several times, looking at him askant with a
satisfied grin. He evidently wanted to speak to the Captain, and at last his persistent manner
attracted the attention of the latter, who said to him, somewhat impatiently:
“How now, what do you want? You are turning round me like a swimmer round a buoy: when are
you going to leave off?”
“Excuse me, Captain,” answered Crockston, winking, “I wanted to speak to you.”
“Speak, then.”
“Oh, it is nothing very much. I only wanted to tell you frankly that you are a good fellow at bottom.”
“Why at bottom?”
“At bottom and surface also.”
“I don’t want your compliments.”
“I am not complimenting you. I shall wait to do that when you have gone to the end.”
“To what end?”
“To the end of your task.”
“Ah! I have a task to fulfil?”
“Decidedly, you have taken the young girl and myself on board; good! You have given up your
cabin to Miss Halliburtt; good! You released me from the cat-o’-nine-tails; nothing could be better.
You are going to take us straight to Charleston; that’s delightful, but it is not all.”
“How not all?” cried James Playfair, amazed at Crockston’s boldness.
“No, certainly not,” replied the latter, with a knowing look, “the father is prisoner there.”
“Well, what about that?”
“Well, the father must be rescued.”
“Rescue Miss Halliburtt’s father?”
“Most certainly, and it is worth risking something for such a noble man and courageous citizen as
he.”
“Master Crockston,” said James Playfair, frowning, “I am not in the humour for your jokes, so have
a care what you say.”
“You misunderstand me, Captain,” said the American. “I am not joking in the least, but speaking
quite seriously. What I have proposed may at first seem very absurd to you; when you have
thought it over, you will see that you cannot do otherwise.”
“What, do you mean that I must deliver Mr. Halliburtt?”
“Just so. You can demand his release of General Beauregard, who will not refuse you.”
“But if he does refuse me?”
“In that case,” replied Crockston, in a deliberate tone, “we must use stronger measures, and carry
off the prisoner by force.”
“So,” cried James Playfair, who was beginning to get angry, “so, not content with passing through
the Federal fleets and forcing the blockade of Charleston, I must run out to sea again from under
the cannon of the forts, and this to deliver a gentleman I know nothing of, one of those Abolitionists
whom I detest, one of those journalists who shed ink instead of their blood!”
“Oh, it is but a cannon-shot more or less!” added Crockston.
“Master Crockston,” said James Playfair, “mind what I say: if ever you mention this affair again to
me, I will send you to the hold for the rest of the passage, to teach you manners.”
Thus saying, the Captain dismissed the American, who went off murmuring, “Ah, well, I am not
altogether displeased with this conversation: at any rate, the affair is broached; it will do, it will do!”
James Playfair had hardly meant it when he said an Abolitionist whom I detest; he did not in the
least side with the Federals, but he did not wish to admit that the question of slavery was the
predominant reason for the civil war of the United States, in spite of President Lincoln’s formal
declaration. Did he, then, think that the Southern States, eight out of thirty-six, were right in
separating when they had been voluntarily united? Not so; he detested the Northerners, and that
was all; he detested them as brothers separated from the common family — true Englishmen —
who had thought it right to do what he, James Playfair, disapproved of with regard to the United
States: these were the political opinions of the Captain of the Dolphin. But, more than this, the
American war interfered with him personally, and he had a grudge against those who had caused
this war; one can understand, then, how he would receive a proposition to deliver an Abolitionist,
thus bringing down on him the Confederates, with whom he pretended to do business.
However, Crockston’s insinuation did not fail to disturb him; he cast the thought from him, but it
returned unceasingly to his mind, and when Miss Jenny came on deck the next day for a few
minutes, he dared not look her in the face.
And really it was a great pity, for this young girl, with the fair hair and sweet, intelligent face,
deserved to be looked at by a young man of thirty. But James felt embarrassed in her presence; he
felt that this charming creature who had been educated in the school of misfortune possessed a
strong and generous soul; he understood that his silence towards her inferred a refusal to
acquiesce in her dearest wishes; besides, Miss Jenny never looked out for James Playfair, neither
did she avoid him. Thus for the first few days they spoke little or not at all to each other. Miss
Halliburtt scarcely ever left her cabin, and it is certain she would never have addressed herself to
the Captain of the Dolphin if it had not been for Crockston’s strategy, which brought both parties
together.
The worthy American was a faithful servant of the Halliburtt family; he had been brought up in his
master’s house, and his devotion knew no bounds. His good sense equalled his courage and
energy, and, as has been seen, he had a way of looking things straight in the face. He was very
seldom discouraged, and could generally find a way out of the most intricate dangers with a
wonderful skill.
This honest fellow had taken it into his head to deliver Mr. Halliburtt, to employ the Captain’s ship,
and the Captain himself for this purpose, and to return with him to England. Such was his intention,
so long as the young girl had no other object than to rejoin her father and share his captivity. It was
this Crockston tried to make the Captain understand, as we have seen, but the enemy had not yet
surrendered; on the contrary.
“Now,” said he, “it is absolutely necessary that Miss Jenny and the Captain come to an
understanding; if they are going to be sulky like this all the passage we shall get nothing done.
They must speak, discuss; let them dispute even, so long as they talk, and I’ll be hanged if during
their conversation James Playfair does not propose himself what he refused me to-day.”
But when Crockston saw that the young girl and the young man avoided each other, he began to
be perplexed.
“We must look sharp,” said he to himself, and the morning of the fourth day he entered Miss
Halliburtt’s cabin, rubbing his hands with an air of perfect satisfaction.
“Good news!” cried he, “good news! You will never guess what the Captain has proposed to me. A
very noble young man he is. Now try.”
“Ah!” replied Jenny, whose heart beat violently, “has he proposed to — ”
“To deliver Mr. Halliburtt, to carry him off from the Confederates, and bring him to England.”
“Is it true?” cried Jenny.
“It is as I say, miss. What a good-hearted man this James Playfair is! These English are either all
good or all bad. Ah! he may reckon on my gratitude, and I am ready to cut myself in pieces if it
would please him.”
Jenny’s joy was profound on hearing Crockston’s words. Deliver her father! She had never dared
to think of such a plan, and the Captain of the Dolphin was going to risk his ship and crew!
“That’s what he is,” added Crockston; “and this, Miss Jenny, is well worth an acknowledgment from
you.”
“More than an acknowledgment,” cried the young girl; “a lasting friendship!”
And immediately she left the cabin to find James Playfair, and express to him the sentiments which
flowed from her heart.
“Getting on by degrees,” muttered the American.
James Playfair was pacing to and fro on the poop, and, as may be thought, he was very much
surprised, not to say amazed, to see the young girl come up to him, her eyes moist with grateful
tears, and, holding out her hand to him, saying:
“Thank you, sir, thank you for your kindness, which I should never have dared to expect from a
stranger.”
“Miss,” replied the Captain, as if he understood nothing of what she was talking, and could not
understand, “I do not know — ”
“Nevertheless, sir, you are going to brave many dangers, perhaps compromise your interests for
me, and you have done so much already in offering me on board an hospitality to which I have no
right whatever — ”
“Pardon me, Miss Jenny,” interrupted James Playfair, “but I protest again I do not understand your
words. I have acted towards you as any well-bred man would towards a lady, and my conduct
deserves neither so many thanks nor so much gratitude.”
“Mr. Playfair,” said Jenny, “it is useless to pretend any longer; Crockston has told me all!”
“Ah!” said the Captain, “Crockston has told you all; then I understand less than ever the reason for
your leaving your cabin, and saying these words which — ”
Whilst speaking the Captain felt very much embarrassed; he remembered the rough way in which
he had received the American’s overtures, but Jenny, fortunately for him, did not give him time for
further explanation; she interrupted him, holding out her hand and saying:
“Mr. James, I had no other object in coming on board your ship except to go to Charleston, and
there, however cruel the slave-holders may be, they will not refuse to let a poor girl share her
father’s prison; that was all. I had never thought of a return as possible; but, since you are so
generous as to wish for my father’s deliverance, since you will attempt everything to save him, be
assured you have my deepest gratitude.”
James did not know what to do or what part to assume; he bit his lip; he dared not take the hand
offered him; he saw perfectly that Crockston had compromised him, so that escape was
impossible. At the same time he had no thoughts of delivering Mr. Halliburtt, and getting
complicated in a disagreeable business: but how dash to the ground the hope which had arisen in
this poor girl’s heart? How refuse the hand which she held out to him with a feeling of such
profound friendship? How change to tears of grief the tears of gratitude which filled her eyes?
So the young man tried to reply evasively, in a manner which would ensure his liberty of action for
the future.
“Miss Jenny,” said he, “rest assured I will do everything in my power for — ”
And he took the little hand in both of his, but with the gentle pressure he felt his heart melt and his
head grow confused: words to express his thoughts failed him. He stammered out some
incoherent words:
“Miss — Miss Jenny — for you — ”
Crockston, who was watching him, rubbed his hands, grinning and repeating to himself:
“It will come! it will come! it has come!”
How James Playfair would have managed to extricate himself from his embarrassing position no
one knows, but fortunately for him, if not for the Dolphin, the man on watch was heard crying:
“Ahoy, officer of the watch!”
“What now?” asked Mr. Mathew.
“A sail to windward!”
James Playfair, leaving the young girl, immediately sprang to the shrouds of the mainmast.
Chapter V
THE SHOT FROM THE IROQUOIS, AND MISS JENNY’S ARGUMENTS
Until now the navigation of the Dolphin had been very fortunate. Not one ship had been signalled
before the sail hailed by the man on watch.
The Dolphin was then in 32° 51’ lat., and 57° 43’ W. longitude. For forty-eight hours a fog, which
now began to rise, had covered the ocean. If this mist favoured the Dolphin by hiding her course, it
also prevented any observations at a distance being made, and, without being aware of it, she
might be sailing side by side, so to speak, with the ships she wished most to avoid.
Now this is just what had happened, and when the ship was signalled she was only three miles to
windward.
When James Playfair had reached the cross-trees, he saw distinctly, through an opening in the
mist, a large Federal corvette in full pursuit of the Dolphin.
After having carefully examined her, the Captain came down on deck again, and called to the first
officer.
“Mr. Mathew,” said he, “what do you think of this ship?”
“I think, Captain, that it is a Federal cruiser, which suspects our intentions.”
“There is no possible doubt of her nationality,” said James Playfair. “Look!”
At this moment the starry flag of the North United States appeared on the gaff-yards of the
corvette, and the latter asserted her colours with a cannon-shot.
“An invitation to show ours,” said Mr. Mathew. “Well, let us show them; there is nothing to be
ashamed of.”
“What’s the good?” replied James Playfair. “Our flag will hardly protect us, and it will not hinder
those people from paying us a visit. No; let us go ahead.”
“And go quickly,” replied Mr. Mathew, “for, if my eyes do not deceive me, I have already seen that
corvette lying off Liverpool, where she went to watch the ships in building: my name is not Mathew,
if that is not the Iroquois on her taffrail.”
“And is she fast?”
“One of the fastest vessels of the Federal marine.”
“What guns does she carry?”
“Eight.”
“Pooh!”
“Oh, don’t shrug your shoulders, Captain,” said Mr. Mathew, in a serious tone; “two out of those
eight guns are rifled, one is a sixty-pounder on the forecastle, and the other a hundred-pounder on
deck.”
“Upon my soul!” exclaimed James Playfair, “they are Parrott’s, and will carry three miles.”
“Yes, and farther than that, Captain.”
“Ah, well! Mr. Mathew, let their guns be sixty or only four-pounders, and let them carry three miles
or five hundred yards, it is all the same if we can go fast enough to avoid their shot. We will show
this Iroquois how a ship can go when she is built on purpose to go. Have the fires drawn forward,
Mr. Mathew.”
The first officer gave the Captain’s orders to the engineer, and soon volumes of black smoke
curled from the steamer’s chimneys.
This proceeding did not seem to please the corvette, for she made the Dolphin the signal to lie to,
but James Playfair paid no attention to this warning, and did not change his ship’s course.
“Now,” said he, “we shall see what the Iroquois will do; here is a fine opportunity for her to try her
guns. Go ahead full speed!”
“Good!” exclaimed Mr. Mathew; “she will not be long in saluting us.”
Returning to the poop, the Captain saw Miss Halliburtt sitting quietly near the bulwarks.
“Miss Jenny,” said he, “we shall probably be chased by that corvette you see to windward, and as
she will speak to us with shot, I beg to offer you my arm to take you to your cabin again.”
“Thank you, very much, Mr. Playfair,” replied the young girl, looking at him, “but I am not afraid of
cannon-shots.”
“However, miss, in spite of the distance, there may be some danger.”
“Oh, I was not brought up to be fearful; they accustom us to everything in America, and I assure
you that the shot from the Iroquois will not make me lower my head.”
“You are brave, Miss Jenny.”
“Let us admit, then, that I am brave, and allow me to stay by you.”
“I can refuse you nothing, Miss Halliburtt,” replied the Captain, looking at the young girl’s calm
face.
These words were hardly uttered when they saw a line of white smoke issue from the bulwarks of
the corvette; before the report had reached the Dolphin a projectile whizzed through the air in the
direction of the steamer.
At about twenty fathoms from the Dolphin the shot, the speed of which had sensibly lessened,
skimmed over the surface of the waves, marking its passage by a series of water-jets; then, with
another burst, it rebounded to a certain height, passed over the Dolphin, grazing the mizzen-yards
on the starboard side, fell at thirty fathoms beyond, and was buried in the waves.
“By Jove!” exclaimed James Playfair, “we must get along; another slap like that is not to be waited
for.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Mr. Mathew, “they will take some time to reload such pieces.”
“Upon my honour, it is an interesting sight,” said Crockston, who, with arms crossed, stood
perfectly at his ease looking at the scene.
“Ah! that’s you,” cried James Playfair, scanning the American from head to foot.
“It is me, Captain,” replied the American, undisturbed. “I have come to see how these brave
Federals fire; not badly, in truth, not badly.”
The Captain was going to answer Crockston sharply, but at this moment a second shot struck the
sea on the starboard side.
“Good!” cried James Playfair, “we have already gained two cables on this Iroquois. Your friends
sail like a buoy; do you hear, Master Crockston?”
“I will not say they don’t,” replied the American, “and for the first time in my life it does not fail to
please me.”
A third shot fell still farther astern, and in less than ten minutes the Dolphin was out of range of the
corvette’s guns.
“So much for patent-logs, Mr. Mathew,” said James Playfair; “thanks to those shot we know how to
rate our speed. Now have the fires lowered; it is not worth while to waste our coal uselessly.”
“It is a good ship that you command,” said Miss Halliburtt to the young Captain.
“Yes, Miss Jenny, my good Dolphin makes her seventeen knots, and before the day is over we
shall have lost sight of that corvette.”
James Playfair did not exaggerate the sailing qualities of his ship, and the sun had not set before
the masts of the American ship had disappeared below the horizon.
This incident allowed the Captain to see Miss Halliburtt’s character in a new light; besides, the ice
was broken, henceforward, during the whole of the voyage; the interviews between the Captain
and his passenger were frequent and prolonged; be found her to be a young girl, calm, strong,
thoughtful, and intelligent, speaking with great ease, having her own ideas about everything, and
expressing her thoughts with a conviction which unconsciously penetrated James Playfair’s heart.
She loved her country, she was zealous in the great cause of the Union, and expressed herself on
the civil war in the United States with an enthusiasm of which no other woman would have been
capable. Thus it happened, more than once, that James Playfair found it difficult to answer her,
even when questions purely mercantile arose in connection with the war: Miss Jenny attacked
them none the less vigorously, and would come to no other terms whatever. At first James argued
a great deal, and tried to uphold the Confederates against the Federals, to prove that the
Secessionists were in the right, and that if the people were united voluntarily they might separate in
the same manner. But the young girl would not yield on this point; she demonstrated that the
question of slavery was predominant in the struggle between the North and South Americans, that
it was far more a war in the cause of morals and humanity than politics, and James could make no
answer. Besides, during these discussions, which he listened to attentively, it is difficult to say
whether he was more touched by Miss Halliburtt’s arguments or the charming manner in which she
spoke; but at last he was obliged to acknowledge, among other things, that slavery was the
principal feature in the war, that it must be put an end to decisively, and the last horrors of
barbarous times abolished.
It has been said that the political opinions of the Captain did not trouble him much. He would have
sacrificed his most serious opinion before such enticing arguments and under like circumstances;
he made a good bargain of his ideas for the same reason, but at last he was attacked in his
tenderest point; this was the question of the traffic in which the Dolphin was being employed, and,
consequently, the ammunition which was being carried to the Confederates.
“Yes, Mr. James,” said Miss Halliburtt, “gratitude does not hinder me from speaking with perfect
frankness; on the contrary, you are a brave seaman, a clever merchant, the house of Playfair is
noted for its respectability; but in this case it fails in its principles, and follows a trade unworthy of
it.”
“How!” cried James, “the house of Playfair ought not to attempt such a commercial enterprise?”
“No! it is taking ammunition to the unhappy creatures in revolt against the government of their
country, and it is lending arms to a bad cause.”
“Upon my honour, Miss Jenny, I will not discuss the right of the Confederates with you; I will only
answer you with one word: I am a merchant, and as such I only occupy myself with the interests of
my house; I look for gain wherever there is an opportunity of getting it.”
“That is precisely what is to be blamed, Mr. James,” replied the young girl; “profit does not excuse
it; thus, when you supply arms to the Southerners, with which to continue a criminal war, you are
quite as guilty as when you sell opium to the Chinese, which stupefies them.”
“Oh, for once, Miss Jenny, this is too much, and I cannot admit — ”
“No; what I say is just, and when you consider it, when you understand the part you are playing,
when you think of the results for which you are responsible, you will yield to me in this point, as in
so many others.”
James Playfair was dumfounded at these words; he left the young girl, a prey to angry thoughts,
for he felt his powerlessness to answer; then he sulked like a child for half an hour, and an hour
later he returned to the singular young girl who could overwhelm him with convincing arguments
with quite a pleasant smile.
In short, however it may have come about, and although he would not acknowledge it to himself,
Captain James Playfair belonged to himself no longer; he was no longer commander-in-chief on
board his own ship.
Thus, to Crockston’s great joy, Mr. Halliburtt’s affairs appeared to be in a good way; the Captain
seemed to have decided to undertake everything in his power to deliver Miss Jenny’s father, and
for this he would be obliged to compromise the Dolphin, his cargo, his crew, and incur the
displeasure of his worthy Uncle Vincent.
Chapter VI
SULLIVAN ISLAND CHANNEL
Two days after the meeting with the Iroquois, the Dolphin found herself abreast of the Bermudas,
where she was assailed by a violent squall. These isles are frequently visited by hurricanes, and
are celebrated for shipwrecks. It is here that Shakespeare has placed the exciting scene of his
drama, The Tempest, in which Ariel and Caliban dispute for the empire of the floods.
The squall was frightful; James Playfair thought once of running for one of the Bermudas, where
the English had a military post: it would have been a sad waste of time, and therefore especially to
be regretted; happily the Dolphin behaved herself wonderfully well in the storm, and, after flying a
whole day before the tempest, she was able to resume her course towards the American coast.
But if James Playfair had been pleased with his ship, he had not been less delighted with the
young girl’s bravery; Miss Halliburtt had passed the worst hours of the storm at his side, and
James knew that a profound, imperious, irresistible love had taken possession of his whole being.
“Yes,” said he, “this brave girl is mistress on board; she turns me like the sea a ship in distress — I
feel that I am foundering! What will Uncle Vincent say? Ah! poor nature, I am sure that if Jenny
asked me to throw all this cursed cargo into the sea, I should do it without hesitating, for love of
her.”
Happily for the firm of Playfair & Co., Miss Halliburtt did not demand this sacrifice; nevertheless,
the poor Captain had been taken captive, and Crockston, who read his heart like an open book,
rubbed his hands gleefully.
“We will hold him fast!” he muttered to himself, “and before a week has passed my master will be
quietly installed in one of the best cabins of the Dolphin.”
As for Miss Jenny, did she perceive the feelings which she inspired? Did she allow herself to share
them? No one could say, and James Playfair least of all; the young girl kept a perfect reserve, and
her secret remained deeply buried in her heart.
But whilst love was making such progress in the heart of the young Captain, the Dolphin sped with
no less rapidity towards Charleston.
On the 13th of January, the watch signalled land ten miles to the west. It was a low-lying coast,
and almost blended with the line of the sea in the distance. Crockston was examining the horizon
attentively, and about nine o’clock in the morning he cried:
“Charleston lighthouse!”
Now that the bearings of the Dolphin were set, James Playfair had but one thing to do, to decide
by which channel he would run into Charleston Bay.
“If we meet with no obstacles,” said he, “before three o’clock we shall be in safety in the docks of
the port.”
The town of Charleston is situated on the banks of an estuary seven miles long and two broad,
called Charleston Harbour, the entrance to which is rather difficult. It is enclosed between Morris
Island on the south and Sullivan Island on the north. At the time when the Dolphin attempted to
force the blockade Morris Island already belonged to the Federal troops, and General Gillmore had
caused batteries to be erected overlooking the harbour. Sullivan Island, on the contrary, was in the
hands of the Confederates, who were also in possession of Moultrie Fort, situated at the extremity
of the island; therefore it would be advantageous to the Dolphin to go as close as possible to the
northern shores to avoid the firing from the forts on Morris Island.
Five channels led into the estuary, Sullivan Island Channel, the Northern Channel, the Overall
Channel, the Principal Channel, and lastly, the Lawford Channel; but it was useless for strangers,
unless they had skilful pilots on board, or ships drawing less than seven feet of water, to attempt
this last; as for Northern and Overall Channels, they were in range of the Federalist batteries, so
that it was no good thinking of them. If James Playfair could have had his choice, he would have
taken his steamer through the Principal Channel, which was the best, and the bearings of which
were easy to follow; but it was necessary to yield to circumstances, and to decide according to the
event. Besides, the Captain of the Dolphin knew perfectly all the secrets of this bay, its dangers,
the depths of its water at low tide, and its currents, so that he was able to steer his ship with the
greatest safety as soon as he entered one of these narrow straits. The great question was to get
there.
Now this work demanded an experienced seaman, and one who knew exactly the qualities of the
Dolphin.
In fact, two Federal frigates were now cruising in the Charleston waters. Mr. Mathew soon drew
James Playfair’s attention to them.
“They are preparing to ask us what we want on these shores,” said he.
“Ah, well! we won’t answer them,” replied the Captain, “and they will not get their curiosity
satisfied.”
In the meanwhile the cruisers were coming on full steam towards the Dolphin, who continued her
course, taking care to keep out of range of their guns. But in order to gain time James Playfair
made for the south-west, wishing to put the enemies’ ships off their guard; the latter must have
thought that the Dolphin intended to make for Morris Island Channel. Now there they had batteries
and guns, a single shot from which would have been enough to sink the English ship; so the
Federals allowed the Dolphin to run towards the south-west, contenting themselves by observing
her without following closely.
Thus for an hour the respective situations of the ships did not change, for James Playfair, wishing
to deceive the cruisers as to the course of the Dolphin, had caused the fires to be moderated, so
that the speed was decreased. However, from the thick volumes of smoke which escaped from the
chimneys, it might have been thought that he was trying to get his maximum pressure, and,
consequently his maximum of rapidity.
“They will be slightly astonished presently,” said James Playfair, “when they see us slip through
their fingers!”
In fact, when the Captain saw that he was near enough to Morris Island, and before a line of guns,
the range of which he did not know, he turned his rudder quickly, and the ship resumed her
northerly course, leaving the cruisers two miles to windward of her; the latter, seeing this
manoeuvre, understood the steamer’s object, and began to pursue her in earnest, but it was too
late. The Dolphin doubled her speed under the action of the screws, and distanced them rapidly.
Going nearer to the coast, a few shell were sent after her as an acquittal of conscience, but the
Federals were outdone, for their projectiles did not reach half-way. At eleven o’clock in the
morning, the steamer ranging near Sullivan Island, thanks to her small draft, entered the narrow
strait full steam; there she was in safety, for no Federalist cruiser dared follow her in this channel,
the depth of which, on an average, was only eleven feet at low tide.
“How!” cried Crockston, “and is that the only difficulty?”
“Oh! oh! Master Crockston,” said James Playfair, “the difficulty is not in entering, but in getting out
again.”
“Nonsense!” replied the American, “that does not make me at all uneasy; with a boat like the
Dolphin and a Captain like Mr. James Playfair, one can go where one likes, and come out in the
same manner.”
Nevertheless, James Playfair, with telescope in his hand, was attentively examining the route to be
followed. He had before him excellent coasting guides, with which he could go ahead without any
difficulty or hesitation.
Once his ship was safely in the narrow channel which runs the length of Sullivan Island, James
steered bearing towards the middle of Fort Moultrie as far as the Pickney Castle, situated on the
isolated island of Shute’s Folly; on the other side rose Fort Johnson, a little way to the north of Fort
Sumter.
At this moment the steamer was saluted by some shot which did not reach her, from the batteries
on Morris Island. She continued her course without any deviation, passed before Moultrieville,
situated at the extremity of Sullivan Island, and entered the bay.
Soon Fort Sumter on the left protected her from the batteries of the Federalists.
This fort, so celebrated in the civil war, is situated three miles and a half from Charleston, and
about a mile from each side of the bay: it is nearly pentagonal in form, built on an artificial island of
Massachusetts granite; it took ten years to construct and cost more than 900,000 dollars.
It was from this fort, on the 13th of April, 1861, that Anderson and the Federal troops were driven,
and it was against it that the first shot of the Confederates was fired. It is impossible to estimate the
quantity of iron and lead which the Federals showered down upon it. However, it resisted for
almost three years, but a few months after the passage of the Dolphin it fell beneath General
Gillmore’s three hundred-pounders on Morris Island.
But at this time it was in all its strength, and the Confederate flag floated proudly above it.
Once past the fort, the town of Charleston appeared, lying between Ashley and Cooper Rivers.
James Playfair threaded his way through the buoys which mark the entrance of the channel,
leaving behind the Charleston lighthouse, visible above Morris Island. He had hoisted the English
flag, and made his way with wonderful rapidity through the narrow channels. When he had passed
the quarantine buoy, he advanced freely into the centre of the bay. Miss Halliburtt was standing on
the poop, looking at the town where her father was kept prisoner, and her eyes filled with tears.
At last the steamer’s speed was moderated by the Captain’s orders; the Dolphin ranged along the
end of the south and east batteries, and was soon moored at the quay of the North Commercial
Wharf.
Chapter VII
A SOUTHERN GENERAL
The Dolphin, on arriving at the Charleston quay, had been saluted by the cheers of a large crowd.
The inhabitants of this town, strictly blockaded by sea, were not accustomed to visits from
European ships. They asked each other, not without astonishment, what this great steamer,
proudly bearing the English flag, had come to do in their waters; but when they learned the object
of her voyage, and why she had just forced the passage Sullivan, when the report spread that she
carried a cargo of smuggled ammunition, the cheers and joyful cries were redoubled.
James Playfair, without losing a moment, entered into negotiation with General Beauregard, the
military commander of the town. The latter eagerly received the young Captain of the Dolphin, who
had arrived in time to provide the soldiers with the clothes and ammunition they were so much in
want of. It was agreed that the unloading of the ship should take place immediately, and numerous
hands came to help the English sailors.
Before quitting his ship James Playfair had received from Miss Halliburtt the most pressing
injunctions with regard to her father, and the Captain had placed himself entirely at the young girl’s
service.
“Miss Jenny,” he had said, “you may rely on me; I will do the utmost in my power to save your
father, but I hope this business will not present many difficulties. I shall go and see General
Beauregard to-day, and, without asking him at once for Mr. Halliburtt’s liberty, I shall learn in what
situation he is, whether he is on bail or a prisoner.”
“My poor father!” replied Jenny, sighing; “he little thinks his daughter is so near him. Oh that I could
fly into his arms!”
“A little patience, Miss Jenny; you will soon embrace your father. Rely upon my acting with the
most entire devotion, but also with prudence and consideration.”
This is why James Playfair, after having delivered the cargo of the Dolphin up to the General, and
bargained for an immense stock of cotton, faithful to his promise, turned the conversation to the
events of the day.
“So,” said he, “you believe in the triumph of the slave-holders?”
“I do not for a moment doubt of our final success, and, as regards Charleston, Lee’s army will soon
relieve it: besides, what do you expect from the Abolitionists? Admitting that which will never be,
that the commercial towns of Virginia, the two Carolinas, Georgia, Alabama, fall under their power,
what then? Will they be masters of a country they can never occupy? No, certainly not; and for my
part, if they are ever victorious, they shall pay dearly for it.”
“And you are quite sure of your soldiers?” asked the Captain. “You are not afraid that Charleston
will grow weary of a siege which is ruining her?”
“No, I do not fear treason; besides, the traitors would be punished remorselessly, and I would
destroy the town itself by sword or fire if I discovered the least Unionist movement. Jefferson Davis
confided Charleston to me, and you may be sure that Charleston is in safe hands.”
“Have you any Federal prisoners?” asked James Playfair, coming to the interesting object of the
conversation.
“Yes, Captain,” replied the General, “it was at Charleston that the first shot of separation was fired.
The Abolitionists who were here attempted to resist, and, after being defeated, they have been
kept as prisoners of war.”
“And have you many?”
“About a hundred.”
“Free in the town?”
“They were until I discovered a plot formed by them: their chief succeeded in establishing a
communication with the besiegers, who were thus informed of the situation of affairs in the town. I
was then obliged to lock up these dangerous guests, and several of them will only leave their
prison to ascend the slope of the citadel, where ten confederate balls will reward them for their
federalism.”
“What! to be shot!” cried the young man, shuddering involuntarily.
“Yes, and their chief first of all. He is a very dangerous man to have in a besieged town. I have
sent his letters to the President at Richmond, and before a week is passed his sentence will be
irrevocably passed.”
“Who is this man you speak of?” asked James Playfair, with an assumed carelessness.
“A journalist from Boston, a violent Abolitionist with the confounded spirit of Lincoln.”
“And his name?”
“Jonathan Halliburtt.”
“Poor wretch!” exclaimed James, suppressing his emotion. “Whatever he may have done, one
cannot help pitying him. And you think that he will be shot?”
“I am sure of it,” replied Beauregard. “What can you expect? War is war; one must defend oneself
as best one can.”
“Well, it is nothing to me,” said the Captain. “I shall be far enough away when this execution takes
place.”
“What! you are thinking of going away already.”
“Yes, General, business must be attended to; as soon as my cargo of cotton is on board I shall be
out to sea again. I was fortunate enough to enter the bay, but the difficulty is in getting out again.
The Dolphin is a good ship; she can beat any of the Federal vessels for speed, but she does not
pretend to distance cannon-balls, and a shell in her hull or engine would seriously affect my
enterprise.”
“As you please, Captain,” replied Beauregard; “I have no advice to give you under such
circumstances. You are doing your business, and you are right. I should act in the same manner
were I in your place; besides, a stay at Charleston is not very pleasant, and a harbour where shells
are falling three days out of four is not a safe shelter for your ship; so you will set sail when you
please; but can you tell me what is the number and the force of the Federal vessels cruising before
Charleston?”
James Playfair did his best to answer the General, and took leave of him on the best of terms; then
he returned to the Dolphin very thoughtful and very depressed from what he had just heard.
“What shall I say to Miss Jenny? Ought I to tell her of Mr. Halliburtt’s terrible situation? Or would it
be better to keep her in ignorance of the trial which is awaiting her? Poor child!”
He had not gone fifty steps from the governor’s house when he ran against Crockston. The worthy
American had been watching for him since his departure.
“Well, Captain?”
James Playfair looked steadily at Crockston, and the latter soon understood he had no favourable
news to give him.
“Have you seen Beauregard?” he asked.
“Yes,” replied James Playfair.
“And have you spoken to him about Mr. Halliburtt?”
“No, it was he who spoke to me about him.”
“Well, Captain?”
“Well, I may as well tell you everything, Crockston.”
“Everything, Captain.”
“General Beauregard has told me that your master will be shot within a week.”
At this news anyone else but Crockston would have grown furious or given way to bursts of grief,
but the American, who feared nothing, only said, with almost a smile on his lips:
“Pooh! what does it matter?”
“How! what does it matter?” cried James Playfair. “I tell you that Mr. Halliburtt will be shot within a
week, and you answer, what does it matter?”
“And I mean it — if in six days he is on board the Dolphin, and if in seven days the Dolphin is on
the open sea.”
“Right!” exclaimed the Captain, pressing Crockston’s hand. “I understand, my good fellow, you
have got some pluck; and for myself, in spite of Uncle Vincent, I would throw myself overboard for
Miss Jenny.”
“No one need be thrown overboard,” replied the American, “only the fish would gain by that: the
most important business now is to deliver Mr. Halliburtt.”
“But you must know that it will be difficult to do so.”
“Pooh!” exclaimed Crockston.
“It is a question of communicating with a prisoner strictly guarded.”
“Certainly.”
“And to bring about an almost miraculous escape.”
“Nonsense,” exclaimed Crockston; “a prisoner thinks more of escaping than his guardian thinks of
keeping him; that’s why, thanks to our help, Mr. Halliburtt will be saved.”
“You are right, Crockston.”
“Always right.”
“But now what will you do? There must be some plan: and there are precautions to be taken.”
“I will think about it.”
“But when Miss Jenny learns that her father is condemned to death, and that the order for his
execution may come any day — ”
“She will know nothing about it, that is all.”
“Yes, it will be better for her and for us to tell her nothing.”
“Where is Mr. Halliburtt imprisoned?” asked Crockston.
“In the citadel,” replied James Playfair.
“Just so! . . . On board now?”
“On board, Crockston!”
Chapter VIII
THE ESCAPE
Miss Jenny, sitting at the poop of the Dolphin, was anxiously waiting the Captain’s return; when the
latter went up to her she could not utter a word, but her eyes questioned James Playfair more
eagerly than her lips could have done. The latter, with Crockston’s help, informed the young girl of
the facts relating to her father’s imprisonment. He said that he had carefully broached the subject
of the prisoners of war to Beauregard, but, as the General did not seem disposed at all in their
favour, he had thought it better to say no more about it, but think the matter over again.
“Since Mr. Halliburtt is not free in the town, his escape will be more difficult; but I will finish my task,
and I promise you, Miss Jenny, that the Dolphin shall not leave Charleston without having your
father on board.”
“Thank you, Mr. James; I thank you with my whole heart.”
At these words James Playfair felt a thrill of joy through his whole being.
He approached the young girl with moist eyes and quivering lips; perhaps he was going to make
an avowal of the sentiments he could no longer repress, when Crockston interfered:
“This is no time for grieving,” said he; “we must go to work, and consider what to do.”
“Have you any plan, Crockston?” asked the young girl.
“I always have a plan,” replied the American: “it is my peculiarity.”
“But a good one?” said James Playfair.
“Excellent! and all the ministers in Washington could not devise a better; it is almost as good as if
Mr. Halliburtt was already on board.”
Crockston spoke with such perfect assurance, at the same time with such simplicity, that it must
have been the most incredulous person who could doubt his words.
“We are listening, Crockston,” said James Playfair.
“Good! You, Captain, will go to General Beauregard, and ask a favour of him which he will not
refuse you.”
“And what is that?”
“You will tell him that you have on board a tiresome subject, a scamp who has been very
troublesome during the voyage, and excited the crew to revolt. You will ask of him permission to
shut him up in the citadel; at the same time, on the condition that he shall return to the ship on her
departure, in order to be taken back to England, to be delivered over to the justice of his country.”
“Good!” said James Playfair, half smiling, “I will do all that, and Beauregard will grant my request
very willingly.”
“I am perfectly sure of it,” replied the American.
“But,” resumed Playfair, “one thing is wanting.”
“What is that?”
“The scamp.”
“He is before you, Captain.”
“What, the rebellious subject?”
“Is myself; don’t trouble yourself about that.”
“Oh! you brave, generous heart,” cried Jenny, pressing the American’s rough hands between her
small white palms.
“Go, Crockston,” said James Playfair; “I understand you, my friend; and I only regret one thing —
that is, that I cannot take your place.”
“Everyone his part,” replied Crockston; “if you put yourself in my place you would be very much
embarrassed, which I shall not be; you will have enough to do later on to get out of the harbour
under the fire of the Feds and Rebs, which, for my part, I should manage very badly.”
“Well, Crockston, go on.”
“Once in the citadel — I know it — I shall see what to do, and rest assured I shall do my best; in
the meanwhile, you will be getting your cargo on board.”
“Oh, business is now a very unimportant detail,” said the Captain.
“Not at all! And what would your Uncle Vincent say to that? We must join sentiment with work; it
will prevent suspicion; but do it quickly. Can you be ready in six days?”
“Yes.”
“Well, let the Dolphin be ready to start on the 22nd.”
“She shall be ready.”
“On the evening of the 22nd of January, you understand, send a gig with your best men to White
Point, at the end of the town; wait there till nine o’clock, and then you will see Mr. Halliburtt and
your servant.”
“But how will you manage to effect Mr. Halliburtt’s deliverance, and also escape yourself?”
“That’s my look-out.”
“Dear Crockston, you are going to risk your life then, to save my father!”
“Don’t be uneasy, Miss Jenny, I shall risk absolutely nothing, you may believe me.”
“Well,” asked James Playfair, “when must I have you locked up?”
“To-day — you understand — I demoralise your crew; there is no time to be lost.”
“Would you like any money? It may be of use to you in the citadel.”
“Money to buy the gaoler! Oh, no, it would be a poor bargain; when one goes there the gaoler
keeps the money and the prisoner! No, I have surer means than that; however, a few dollars may
be useful; one must be able to drink, if needs be.”
“And intoxicate the gaoler.”
“No, an intoxicated gaoler would spoil everything. No, I tell you I have an idea; let me work it out.”
“Here, my good fellow, are ten dollars.”
“It is too much, but I will return what is over.”
“Well, then, are you ready?”
“Quite ready to be a downright rogue.”
“Let us go to work, then.”
“Crockston,” said the young girl, in a faltering voice, “you are the best man on earth.”
“I know it,” replied the American, laughing good-humouredly. “By the by, Captain, an important
item.”
“What is that?”
“If the General proposes to hang your rebel — you know that military men like sharp work — ”
“Well, Crockston?”
“Well, you will say that you must think about it.”
“I promise you I will.”
The same day, to the great astonishment of the crew, who were not in the secret, Crockston, with
his feet and hands in irons, was taken on shore by a dozen sailors, and half an hour after, by
Captain James Playfair’s request, he was led through the streets of the town, and, in spite of his
resistance, was imprisoned in the citadel.
During this and the following days the unloading of the Dolphin was rapidly accomplished; the
steam cranes lifted out the European cargo to make room for the native goods. The people of
Charleston, who were present at this interesting work, helped the sailors, whom they held in great
respect, but the Captain did not leave the brave fellows much time for receiving compliments; he
was constantly behind them, and urged them on with a feverish activity, the reason of which the
sailors could not suspect.
Three days later, on the 18th of January, the first bales of cotton began to be packed in the hold:
although James Playfair troubled himself no more about it, the firm of Playfair and Co. were
making an excellent bargain, having obtained the cotton which encumbered the Charleston
wharves at very far less than its value.
In the meantime no news had been heard of Crockston. Jenny, without saying anything about it,
was a prey to incessant fears; her pale face spoke for her, and James Playfair endeavoured his
utmost to ease her mind.
“I have all confidence in Crockston,” said he; “he is a devoted servant, as you must know better
than I do, Miss Jenny. You must make yourself quite at ease; believe me, in three days you will be
folded in your father’s arms.”
“Ah! Mr. James,” cried the young girl, “how can I ever repay you for such devotion? How shall we
ever be able to thank you?”
“I will tell you when we are in English seas,” replied the young Captain.
Jenny raised her tearful face to him for a moment, then her eyelids drooped, and she went back to
her cabin.
James Playfair hoped that the young girl would know nothing of her father’s terrible situation until
he was in safety, but she was apprised of the truth by the involuntary indiscretion of a sailor.
The reply from the Richmond cabinet had arrived by a courier who had been able to pass the line
of outposts; the reply contained Jonathan Halliburtt’s death-warrant. The news of the approaching
execution was not long in spreading through the town, and it was brought on board by one of the
sailors of the Dolphin; the man told the Captain, without thinking that Miss Halliburtt was within
hearing; the young girl uttered a piercing cry, and fell unconscious on the deck. James Playfair
carried her to her cabin, but the most assiduous care was necessary to restore her to life.
When she opened her eyes again, she saw the young Captain, who, with a finger on his lips,
enjoined absolute silence. With difficulty she repressed the outburst of her grief, and James
Playfair, leaning towards her, said gently:
“Jenny, in two hours your father will be in safety near you, or I shall have perished in endeavouring
to save him!”
Then he left the cabin, saying to himself, “And now he must be carried off at any price, since I must
pay for his liberty with my own life and those of my crew.”
The hour for action had arrived, the loading of the cotton cargo had been finished since morning; in
two hours the ship would be ready to start.
James Playfair had left the North Commercial Wharf and gone into the roadstead, so that he was
ready to make use of the tide, which would be high at nine o’clock in the evening.
It was seven o’clock when James left the young girl, and began to make preparations for
departure. Until the present time the secret had been strictly kept between himself, Crockston, and
Jenny; but now he thought it wise to inform Mr. Mathew of the situation of affairs, and he did so
immediately.
“Very well, sir,” replied Mr. Mathew, without making the least remark, “and nine o’clock is the
time?”
“Nine o’clock, and have the fires lit immediately, and the steam got up.”
“It shall be done, Captain.”
“The Dolphin may remain at anchor; we will cut our moorings and sheer off, without losing a
moment.”
“Just so.”
“Have a lantern placed at the mainmast-head; the night is dark, and will be foggy; we must not risk
losing our way in returning. You had better have the bell for starting rung at nine o’clock.”
“Your orders shall be punctually attended to, Captain.”
“And now, Mr. Mathew, have a shore-boat manned with six of our best men. I am going to set out
directly for White Point. I leave Miss Jenny in your charge, and may God protect us!”
“May God protect us!” repeated the first officer.
Then he immediately gave the necessary orders for the fires to be lighted, and the shore-boat
provided with men. In a few minutes the boat was ready, and James Playfair, after bidding Jenny
good-bye, stepped into it, whilst at the same time he saw volumes of black smoke issuing from the
chimneys of the ship, and losing itself in the fog.
The darkness was profound; the wind had fallen, and in the perfect silence the waters seemed to
slumber in the immense harbour, whilst a few uncertain lights glimmered through the mist. James
Playfair had taken his place at the rudder, and with a steady hand he guided his boat towards
White Point. It was a distance of about two miles; during the day James had taken his bearings
perfectly, so that he was able to make direct for Charleston Point.
Eight o’clock struck from the church of St. Philip when the shore-boat ran aground at White Point.
There was an hour to wait before the exact time fixed by Crockston; the quay was deserted, with
the exception of the sentinel pacing to and fro on the south and east batteries. James Playfair grew
impatient, and the minutes seemed hours to him.
At half-past eight he heard the sound of approaching steps; he left his men with their oars clear
and ready to start, and went himself to see who it was; but he had not gone ten feet when he met a
band of coastguards, in all about twenty men. James drew his revolver from his waist, deciding to
make use of it, if needs be; but what could he do against these soldiers, who were coming on to
the quay?
The leader came up to him, and, seeing the boat, asked:
“Whose craft is that?”
“It is a gig belonging to the Dolphin,” replied the young man.
“And who are you?”
“Captain James Playfair.”
“I thought you had already started, and were now in the Charleston channels.”
“I am ready to start. I ought even now to be on my way but — ”
“But — ” persisted the coastguard.
A bright idea shot through James’s mind, and he answered:
“One of my sailors is locked up in the citadel, and, to tell the truth, I had almost forgotten him;
fortunately I thought of him in time, and I have sent my men to bring him.”
“Ah! that troublesome fellow; you wish to take him back to England?”
“Yes.
“He might as well be hung here as there,” said the coast-guard, laughing at his joke.
“So I think,” said James Playfair, “but it is better to have the thing done in the regular way.”
“Not much chance of that, Captain, when you have to face the Morris Island batteries.”
“Don’t alarm yourself. I got in and I’ll get out again.”
“Prosperous voyage to you!”
“Thank you.”
With this the men went off, and the shore was left silent.
At this moment nine o’clock struck; it was the appointed moment. James felt his heart beat
violently; a whistle was heard; he replied to it, then he waited, listening, with his hand up to enjoin
perfect silence on the sailors. A man appeared enveloped in a large cloak, and looking from one
side to another. James ran up to him.
“Mr. Halliburtt?”
“I am he,” replied the man with the cloak.
“God be praised!” cried James Playfair. “Embark without losing a minute. Where is Crockston?”
“Crockston!” exclaimed Mr. Halliburtt, amazed. “What do you mean?”
“The man who has saved you and brought you here was your servant Crockston.”
“The man who came with me was the gaoler from the citadel,” replied Mr. Halliburtt.
“The gaoler!” cried James Playfair.
Evidently he knew nothing about it, and a thousand fears crowded in his mind.
“Quite right, the gaoler,” cried a well-known voice. “The gaoler is sleeping like a top in my cell.”
“Crockston! you! Can it be you?” exclaimed Mr. Halliburtt.
“No time to talk now, master; we will explain everything to you afterwards. It is a question of life or
death. Get in quick!”
The three men took their places in the boat.
“Push off!” cried the captain.
Immediately the six oars dipped into the water; the boat darted like a fish through the waters of
Charleston Harbour.
Chapter IX
BETWEEN TWO FIRES
The boat, pulled by six robust oarsmen, flew over the water. The fog was growing dense, and it
was with difficulty that James Playfair succeeded in keeping to the line of his bearings. Crockston
sat at the bows, and Mr. Halliburtt at the stern, next the Captain. The prisoner, only now informed
of the presence of his servant, wished to speak to him, but the latter enjoined silence.
However, a few minutes later, when they were in the middle of the harbour, Crockston determined
to speak, knowing what thoughts were uppermost in Mr. Halliburtt’s mind.
“Yes, my dear master,” said he, “the gaoler is in my place in the cell, where I gave him two smart
blows, one on the head and the other on the stomach, to act as a sleeping draught, and this when
he was bringing me my supper; there is gratitude for you. I took his clothes and his keys, found
you, and let you out of the citadel, under the soldiers’ noses. That is all I have done.”
“But my daughter — ?” asked Mr. Halliburtt.
“Is on board the ship which is going to take you to England.”
“My daughter there! there!” cried the American, springing from his seat.
“Silence!” replied Crockston, “a few minutes, and we shall be saved.”
The boat flew through the darkness, but James Playfair was obliged to steer rather by guess, as
the lanterns of the Dolphin were no longer visible through the fog. He was undecided what
direction to follow, and the darkness was so great that the rowers could not even see to the end of
their oars.
“Well, Mr. James?” said Crockston.
“We must have made more than a mile and a half,” replied the Captain. “You don’t see anything,
Crockston?”
“Nothing; nevertheless, I have good eyes; but we shall get there all right. They don’t suspect
anything out there.”
These words were hardly finished when the flash of a gun gleamed for an instant through the
darkness, and vanished in the mist.
“A signal!” cried James Playfair.
“Whew!” exclaimed Crockston. “It must have come from the citadel. Let us wait.”
A second, then a third shot was fired in the direction of the first, and almost the same signal was
repeated a mile in front of the gig.
“That is from Fort Sumter,” cried Crockston, “and it is the signal of escape. Urge on the men;
everything is discovered.”
“Pull for your lives, my men!” cried James Playfair, urging on the sailors, “those gun-shots cleared
my route. The Dolphin is eight hundred yards ahead of us. Stop! I hear the bell on board. Hurrah,
there it is again! Twenty pounds for you if we are back in five minutes!”
The boat skimmed over the waves under the sailors’ powerful oars. A cannon boomed in the
direction of the town. Crockston heard a ball whiz past them.
The bell on the Dolphin was ringing loudly. A few more strokes and the boat was alongside. A few
more seconds and Jenny fell into her father’s arms.
The gig was immediately raised, and James Playfair sprang on to the poop.
“Is the steam up, Mr. Mathew?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Have the moorings cut at once.”
A few minutes later the two screws carried the steamer towards the principal channel, away from
Fort Sumter.
“Mr. Mathew,” said James, “we must not think of taking the Sullivan Island channel; we should run
directly under the Confederate guns. Let us go as near as possible to the right side of the harbour
out of range of the Federal batteries. Have you a safe man at the helm?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Have the lanterns and the fires on deck extinguished; there is a great deal too much light, but we
cannot help the reflection from the engine-rooms.”
During this conversation the Dolphin was going at a great speed; but in altering her course to keep
to the right side of the Charleston Harbour she was obliged to enter a channel which took her for a
moment near Fort Sumter; and when scarcely half a mile off all the guns bearing on her were
discharged at the same time, and a shower of shot and shell passed in front of the Dolphin with a
thundering report.
“Too soon, stupids,” cried James Playfair, with a burst of laughter. “Make haste, make haste, Mr.
Engineer! We shall get between two fires.”
The stokers fed the furnaces, and the Dolphin trembled all over with the effort of the engine as if
she was on the point of exploding.
At this moment a second report was heard, and another shower of balls whizzed behind the
Dolphin.
“Too late, stupids,” cried the young Captain, with a regular roar.
Then Crockston, who was standing on the poop, cried, “That’s one passed. A few minutes more,
and we shall have done with the Rebs.”
“Then do you think we have nothing more to fear from Fort Sumter?” asked James.
“Nothing at all, but everything from Fort Moultrie, at the end of Sullivan Island; but they will only get
a chance at us for half a minute, and then they must choose their time well, and shoot straight if
they want to reach us. We are getting near.”
“Right; the position of Fort Moultrie will allow us to go straight for the principal channel. Fire away
then, fire away!”
At the same moment, and as if in obedience to James Playfair, the fort was illuminated by a triple
line of lightning. A frightful crash was heard; then a crackling sound on board the steamer.
“Touched this time!” exclaimed Crockston.
“Mr. Mathew!” cried the Captain to his second, who was stationed at the bows, “what has been
damaged?”
“The bowsprit broken.”
“Any wounded?”
“No, Captain.”
“Well, then, the masts may go to Jericho. Straight into the pass! Straight! and steer towards the
island.”
“We have passed the Rebs!” cried Crockston; “and, if we must have balls in our hull, I would much
rather have the Northerners; they are more easily digested.”
In fact, the Dolphin could not yet consider herself out of danger; for, if Morris Island was not
fortified with the formidable pieces of artillery which were placed there a few months later,
nevertheless its guns and mortars could easily have sunk a ship like the Dolphin.
The alarm had been given to the Federals on the island, and to the blockading squadron, by the
firing from Forts Sumter and Moultrie. The besiegers could not make out the reason of this night
attack; it did not seem to be directed against them. However, they were obliged to consider it so,
and were ready to reply.
It occupied James Playfair’s thoughts whilst making towards the passes of Morris Island; and he
had reason to fear, for in a quarter of an hour’s time lights gleamed rapidly through the darkness. A
shower of small shell fell round the steamer, scattering the water over her bulwarks; some of them
even struck the deck of the Dolphin, but not on their points, which saved the ship from certain ruin.
In fact, these shell, as it was afterwards discovered, could break into a hundred fragments, and
each cover a superficial area of a hundred and twenty square feet with Greek fire, which would
burn for twenty minutes, and nothing could extinguish it. One of these shell alone could set a ship
on fire. Fortunately for the Dolphin, they were a new invention, and as yet far from perfect. Once
thrown into the air, a false rotary movement kept them inclined, and, when falling, instead of
striking on their points, where is the percussion apparatus, they fell flat. This defect in construction
alone saved the Dolphin. The falling of these shells did her little harm, and under the pressure of
her over-heated boilers she continued to advance into the pass.
At this moment, and in spite of his orders, Mr. Halliburtt and his daughter went to James Playfair
on the poop; the latter urged them to return to their cabins, but Jenny declared that she would
remain by the Captain. As for Mr. Halliburtt, who had just learnt all the noble conduct of his
deliverer, he pressed his hand without being able to utter a word.
The Dolphin was speeding rapidly towards the open sea. There were only three miles more before
she would be in the waters of the Atlantic; if the pass was free at its entrance, she was saved.
James Playfair was wonderfully well acquainted with all the secrets of Charleston Bay, and he
guided his ship through the darkness with an unerring hand. He was beginning to think his daring
enterprise successful, when a sailor on the forecastle cried:
“A ship!”
“A ship?” cried James.
“Yes, on the larboard side.”
The fog had cleared off, and a large frigate was seen making towards the pass, in order to obstruct
the passage of the Dolphin. It was necessary, cost what it might, to distance her, and urge the
steam-engine to an increase of speed, or all was lost.
“Port the helm at once!” cried the Captain.
Then he sprang on to the bridge above the engine. By his orders one of the screws was stopped,
and under the action of the other the Dolphin, veering with an extraordinary rapidity, avoided
running foul of the frigate, and advanced like her to the entrance of the pass. It was now a question
of speed.
James Playfair understood that in this lay his own safety, Miss Jenny’s, her father’s, and that of all
his crew.
The frigate was considerably in advance of the Dolphin. It was evident from the volumes of black
smoke issuing from her chimneys that she was getting up her steam. James Playfair was not the
man to be left in the background.
“How are the engines?” cried he to the engineer.
“At the maximum speed,” replied the latter; “the steam is escaping by all the valves.”
“Fasten them down,” ordered the Captain.
And his orders were executed at the risk of blowing up the ship.
The Dolphin again increased her speed; the pistons worked with frightful rapidity; the metal plates
on which the engine was placed trembled under the terrific force of their blows. It was a sight to
make the boldest shudder.
“More pressure!” cried James Playfair; “put on more pressure!”
“Impossible!” replied the engineer. “The valves are tightly closed; our furnaces are full up to the
mouths.”
“What difference! Fill them with cotton soaked in spirits; we must pass that frigate at any price.”
At these words the most daring of the sailors looked at each other, but did not hesitate. Some
bales of cotton were thrown into the engine-room, a barrel of spirits broached over them, and this
expensive fuel placed, not without danger, in the red-hot furnaces. The stokers could no longer
hear each other speak for the roaring of the flames. Soon the metal plates of the furnaces became
red-hot; the pistons worked like the pistons of a locomotive; the steamgauge showed a frightful
tension; the steamer flew over the water; her boards creaked, and her chimneys threw out volumes
of smoke mingled with flames. She was going at a headlong speed, but, nevertheless, she was
gaining on the frigate — passed her, distanced her, and in ten minutes was out of the channel.
“Saved!” cried the Captain.
“Saved!” echoed the crew, clapping their hands.
Already the Charleston beacon was disappearing in the south-west; the sound of firing from the
batteries grew fainter, and it might with reason be thought that the danger was all past, when a
shell from a gun-boat cruising at large was hurled whizzing through the air. It was easy to trace its
course, thanks to the line of fire which followed it.
Then was a moment of anxiety impossible to describe; every one was silent, and each watched
fearfully the arch described by the projectile. Nothing could be done to escape it, and in a few
seconds it fell with a frightful noise on the fore-deck of the Dolphin.
The terrified sailors crowded to the stern, and no one dared move a step, whilst the shell was
burning with a brisk crackle.
But one brave man alone among them ran up to the formidable weapon of destruction. It was
Crockston; he took the shell in his strong arms, whilst showers of sparks were falling from it; then,
with a superhuman effort, he threw it overboard.
Hardly had the shell reached the surface of the water when it burst with a frightful report.
“Hurrah! hurrah!” cried the whole crew of the Dolphin unanimously, whilst Crockston rubbed his
hands.
Some time later the steamer sped rapidly through the waters of the Atlantic; the American coast
disappeared in the darkness, and the distant lights which shot across the horizon indicated that the
attack was general between the batteries of Morris Island and the forts of Charleston Harbour.
Chapter X
ST. MUNGO
The next day at sunrise the American coast had disappeared; not a ship was visible on the
horizon, and the Dolphin, moderating the frightful rapidity of her speed, made quietly towards the
Bermudas.
It is useless to recount the passage across the Atlantic, which was marked by no accidents, and
ten days after the departure from Queenstown the French coast was hailed.
What passed between the Captain and the young girl may be imagined, even by the least
observant individuals. How could Mr. Halliburtt acknowledge the devotion and courage of his
deliverer, if it was not by making him the happiest of men? James Playfair did not wait for English
seas to declare to the father and daughter the sentiments which overflowed his heart, and, if
Crockston is to be believed, Miss Jenny received his confession with a happiness she did not try to
conceal.
Thus it happened that on the 14th of February, 18 — , a numerous crowd was collected in the dim
aisles of St. Mungo, the old cathedral of Glasgow. There were seamen, merchants, manufacturers,
magistrates, and some of every denomination gathered here. There was Miss Jenny in bridal array
and beside her the worthy Crockston, resplendent in apple-green clothes, with gold buttons, whilst
Uncle Vincent stood proudly by his nephew.
In short, they were celebrating the marriage of James Playfair, of the firm of Vincent Playfair & Co.,
of Glasgow, with Miss Jenny Halliburtt, of Boston.
The ceremony was accomplished amidst great pomp. Everyone knew the history of the Dolphin,
and everyone thought the young Captain well recompensed for his devotion. He alone said that his
reward was greater than he deserved.
In the evening there was a grand ball and banquet at Uncle Vincent’s house, with a large
distribution of shillings to the crowd collected in Gordon Street. Crockston did ample justice to this
memorable feast, while keeping himself perfectly within bounds.
Everyone was happy at this wedding; some at their own happiness, and others at the happiness
around them, which is not always the case at ceremonies of this kind.
Late in the evening, when the guests had retired, James Playfair took his uncle’s hand.
“Well, Uncle Vincent,” said he to him.
“Well, Nephew James?”
“Are you pleased with the charming cargo I brought you on board the Dolphin?” continued Captain
Playfair, showing him his brave young wife.
“I am quite satisfied,” replied the worthy merchant; “I have sold my cotton at three hundred and
seventy-five per cent. profit.”
End of The Blockade Runners
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Blockade Runners, by Jules Verne
*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS ***
This file should be named 8blok10h.htm or 8blok10h.zip
Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 8blok11h.htm
VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 8blok10ah.htm
Produced by Norman M. Wolcott
Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US
unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not
keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance
of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections,
even years after the official publication date.
Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til
midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at
Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A
preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
and editing by those who wish to do so.
Most people start at our Web sites at:
http://gutenberg.net or
http://promo.net/pg
These Web sites include award-winning information about Project
Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new
eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!).
Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement
can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is
also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the
indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an
announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter.
http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext03 or
ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03
Or /etext02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90
Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want,
as it appears in our Newsletters.
Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)
We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The
time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours
to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our
projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value
per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2
million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text
files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+
We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002
If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total
will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end.
The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks!
This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users.
Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated):
eBooks Year Month
1 1971 July
10 1991 January
100 1994 January
1000 1997 August
1500 1998 October
2000 1999 December
2500 2000 December
3000 2001 November
4000 2001 October/November
6000 2002 December*
9000 2003 November*
10000 2004 January*
The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created
to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium.
We need your donations more than ever!
As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people
and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut,
Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois,
Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts,
Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New
Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio,
Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South
Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West
Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming.
We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones
that have responded.
As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list
will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states.
Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state.
In answer to various questions we have received on this:
We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally
request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and
you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have,
just ask.
While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are
not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting
donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to
donate.
International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about
how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made
deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are
ways.
Donations by check or money order may be sent to:
Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
PMB 113
1739 University Ave.
Oxford, MS 38655-4109
Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment
method other than by check or money order.
The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by
the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN
[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are
tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising
requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be
made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states.
We need your donations more than ever!
You can get up to date donation information online at:
http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html
***
If you can't reach Project Gutenberg,
you can always email directly to:
Michael S. Hart [email protected]
Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message.
We would prefer to send you information by email.
**The Legal Small Print**
(Three Pages)
***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START***
Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers.
They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from
someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement
disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how
you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to.
*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK
By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept
this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive
a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by
sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person
you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical
medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.
ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS
This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks,
is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart
through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project").
Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright
on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and
distribute it in the United States without permission and
without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth
below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook
under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market
any commercial products without permission.
To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable
efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any
medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other
things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or
corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer
codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.
LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES
But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may
receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims
all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including
legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR
UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT,
INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE
OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.
If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of
receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
time to the person you received it from. If you received it
on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement
copy. If you received it electronically, such person may
choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to
receive it electronically.
THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
may have other legal rights.
INDEMNITY
You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation,
and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated
with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including
legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the
following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook,
[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook,
or [3] any Defect.
DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by
disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this
"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg,
or:
[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this
requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however,
if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable
binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
including any form resulting from conversion by word
processing or hypertext software, but only so long as
*EITHER*:
[*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
does *not* contain characters other than those
intended by the author of the work, although tilde
(~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
be used to convey punctuation intended by the
author, and additional characters may be used to
indicate hypertext links; OR
[*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at
no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
form by the program that displays the eBook (as is
the case, for instance, with most word processors);
OR
[*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
or other equivalent proprietary form).
[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this
"Small Print!" statement.
[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the
gross profits you derive calculated using the method you
already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you
don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are
payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation"
the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were
legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to
let us know your plans and to work out the details.
WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of
public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed
in machine readable form.
The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time,
public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses.
Money should be paid to the:
"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or
software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at:
[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only
when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by
Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be
used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be
they hardware or software or any other related product without
express permission.]
*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END*
Livros Grátis
( http://www.livrosgratis.com.br )
Milhares de Livros para Download:
Baixar livros de Administração
Baixar livros de Agronomia
Baixar livros de Arquitetura
Baixar livros de Artes
Baixar livros de Astronomia
Baixar livros de Biologia Geral
Baixar livros de Ciência da Computação
Baixar livros de Ciência da Informação
Baixar livros de Ciência Política
Baixar livros de Ciências da Saúde
Baixar livros de Comunicação
Baixar livros do Conselho Nacional de Educação - CNE
Baixar livros de Defesa civil
Baixar livros de Direito
Baixar livros de Direitos humanos
Baixar livros de Economia
Baixar livros de Economia Doméstica
Baixar livros de Educação
Baixar livros de Educação - Trânsito
Baixar livros de Educação Física
Baixar livros de Engenharia Aeroespacial
Baixar livros de Farmácia
Baixar livros de Filosofia
Baixar livros de Física
Baixar livros de Geociências
Baixar livros de Geografia
Baixar livros de História
Baixar livros de Línguas
Baixar livros de Literatura
Baixar livros de Literatura de Cordel
Baixar livros de Literatura Infantil
Baixar livros de Matemática
Baixar livros de Medicina
Baixar livros de Medicina Veterinária
Baixar livros de Meio Ambiente
Baixar livros de Meteorologia
Baixar Monografias e TCC
Baixar livros Multidisciplinar
Baixar livros de Música
Baixar livros de Psicologia
Baixar livros de Química
Baixar livros de Saúde Coletiva
Baixar livros de Serviço Social
Baixar livros de Sociologia
Baixar livros de Teologia
Baixar livros de Trabalho
Baixar livros de Turismo
