University of Virginia Library

18. CHAPTER XVIII.
The Bloody Volunteers are carried to Pensacola, where Robin Day
receives an agreeable surprise.

As soon as we arrived, Captain Dicky's eleven
followers were carried to a fortress near the town,
where they were confined; while the young hero
and myself—I being invited to officiate as interpreter—were
conducted to the house of the Intendente,
or military governor of the town, the Señor Coronel
Aubrey, or de Aubrey;—for such Captain Valdez, our
captor, told us was his name; and upon my remarking
that the name appeared to me rather English than Spanish,
he admitted with a shrug that seemed to be full of
meaning, though I could not divine what the meaning
was, that his Excelencia the Coronel was but a half
Castilian after all, nay, that he was a North American
by birth, who had left the Carolinas at the period of the
American Revolution, and entered the Spanish colonial
service, in which he had remained ever since.
And Valdez added, with another shrug, as profoundly
significative and as incomprehensible as the first,
that Colonel Aubrey had acquired wealth as well as
power, while many pure-blooded Castilians might
be found in the service of his sovereign, who, caramba!
were no richer than he was.

A few moments saw us ushered into the presence
of this dignitary, a fine, and, indeed, noble

looking man of fifty or fifty-five years; in whom,
notwithstanding the difference of years, I was struck
with a resemblance to the portrait of the Spanish
gentleman which I had so much admired in the
drawing room of Mr. Bloodmoney. And to prove
that he could be no other than the original of that
picture, I saw hanging upon the wall of the apartment
in which he received us, a copy, the very
counter-part of that portrait. Allowing for the difference
of years, there was but one characteristic in
which the Intendant differed from his effigy. The
countenance of the latter expressed a deep and settled
melancholy; whereas Colonel Aubrey's was in
the main a cheerful one, or at most sedately cheerful.
“But,” thought I to myself, “a man is not in
sorrow all his life.”

He received us—or rather, I should say, he received
Captain Dicky, whose regimentals, though
greatly the worse for his forest campaign, distinguished
him as my superior—with courtesy, but seemed
very much surprised at his juvenile appearance; indeed
he turned to our captor, and asked him with
some sharpness—fortunately for the pride of Captain
Dicky, the question was in Spanish—whether he
had not made a mistake, and brought him the drummer,
instead of the leader, of the American party?

“Upon my soul,” replied the officer, “the little
fellow is commander in chief of the whole party.
And,” he added, casting his eye upon me, “if we
are to believe what the young gentleman, his friend
and follower, says of him and his feats, it is time
the American government had made him a general
of division.”

The Intendant here gave me a scrutinizing look,
which ended in a smile, and he addressed himself
to the business in hand by asking a great many

questions in regard to the Bloody Volunteers, their
objects in thus invading the territories of his Catholic
Majesty—whether they were acting under the
orders of General Jackson, or any other American
commander—and a multitude of other inquiries,
such as were, doubtless, proper to the occasion; and
to all which Captain Dicky, as soon as I had rendered
them into English, returned the most appropriate
and dignified answers.

He assured the governor upon his honour as a
soldier, that neither his government nor commanding
general had the least idea of violating the territory of
their Spanish friends; that the invasion was an affair
of accident, attributable solely to him, and to him
only on account of his ignorance of the Spanish
boundaries. In short, he answered every thing, and
said every thing necessary to allay the suspicions
that might be entertained by the Governor as to any
sinister movements of the American army, in progress
or designed, against his little Intendancy.

So far all went very well; but a difficulty unexpectedly
arose when his Excellency, politely assuring
Captain Dicky that his explanations were quite satisfactory,
begged to be permitted to look over his
papers—that is to say, his commission, and the orders
of his brigadier, in the attempted execution of which
he had been driven so very far from head-quarters.
The difficulty was that Captain Dicky had no papers:
the irregularity of his election, and the hurry of
affairs, had prevented his receiving, before marching
to the theatre of war, a formal commission from the
executive of Tennessee; and as for orders, he had
never yet been distinguished by any but verbal ones
from his general.

To remove the difficulty, Captain Dare entered
into a laboured explanation of the circumstances,

from the period of his election up to his surrender to
the arms of his majesty of Spain, including the whole
of his adventures during the flight through the Indian
country—an exploit that can be compared only to the
memorable Anabasis of the Ten Thousand; in which
Colonel Aubrey seemed much interested, and I am
sorry to say, diverted; for he laughed once or twice
very heartily. He then asked me if I could as a
gentleman (for, upon his demanding what my rank
was in the company, I took the opportunity, which
the ragged appearance of my outer man rendered desirable,
to tell him I was a gentleman volunteer, a
soldier of fortune serving in the ranks,) endorse all
the statements of my friend Captain Dicky; and
upon my hinting in reply, that my captivity among
the Indians, and long separation from the company,
rendered me an incompetent authority as to a portion
of the statements, though I had no doubt of their
truth, he became very anxious for the recital of my
adventures also; which I gave him, that is to say, my
adventures in the Indian nation with Captain Brown;
whom, however, for my own sake I took care to represent
as a mere fellow in misfortune, without saying
any thing of his rascalities and piratical character;
and it seemed to me, that while equally diverted, he
was still more interested by them than he had even
been with the exploits of Captain Dare.

These representations satisfied him that Captain
Dare's statements were to be relied on; or, at least,
he said as much: upon which, Captain Dicky assumed,
in his turn, the character of questioner, and demanded
to know of his Excellency his intentions in regard
to himself and his Bloody Volunteers; whether they
were to be detained as prisoners of war, (in which
case, he begged the Intendant to observe, he protested
against the detention, as an act unfriendly and

injurious to the United States, the ally of Spain,) or
whether they were to be treated as friendly visitants,
and allowed to depart immediately to their own
country; in which latter event, Dicky declared that,
having now found out how the land lay, he had no
doubt he could conduct his command to the American
lines at Mobile.

To these interrogatories the Governor replied, with
a smile, that the affair being a very extraordinary
one, he did not feel himself at liberty to decide upon
the course necessary to be pursued, until he had deliberated
further on the subject; but, for the present,
he said, he would consider Captain Dare only in the
light of a guest; and immediately requested the honour
of his company to dinner; an invitation which,
on the faith of my being a gentleman volunteer, as
he said, with some emphasis on the phrase, he extended
also to me.

But here another difficulty arose, founded on the
condition of our habiliments; in which we were the
more loath to appear at a gentleman's table, as Captain
Valdez had hinted the Governor had a very charming
daughter, who would, doubtless, preside on the occasion;
and I was obliged to confess on Dicky's
account, that, Captain as he was, he had not a shirt
to his back, having torn it into bandages for his
wounded volunteers; while I lamented, on my own
behalf, the ferocity of the Indians and the fury of the
briers, which had quite destroyed the beauty of a
handsome hunting frock I had bought at the beginning
of the campaign. Colonel Aubrey laughed, and
said he was happy to have it in his power to relieve
us from so serious a dilemma; and with that, he conducted
us into a chamber, where we were left in
charge of a negro servant, who supplied us with
linen from his master's wardrobe, and the means of

making a very gentlemanly and luxurious toilet.
And by and by another slave made his appearance,
bearing for my use a handsome military frock; which,
as it very nearly fitted me, I fancied the Governor
had obtained from some juvenile officer, to serve my
purpose, until I could fit myself out in a manner becoming
a gentleman volunteer.

Having completed our toilet very much to the satisfaction
of both, and rejoined the courteous Intendant,
we were immediately conducted by him into a
sumptuous saloon, where we found a table already
spread, with many black servants around it; besides
whom, there where three other persons in the room,
one an old man in a clergyman's dress, his excellency's
chaplain; the second a stiff and starched matron,
whom I took for a duenna, but who proved to
be merely the caséra, or housekeeper; and the third
a young lady, the fair daughter, as I could well
believe, of the Intendant. But, heaven and earth!
what was my amazement and confusion, when, looking
bashfully up into the face of the señorita, who
received the two strangers with graceful courtesies,
I beheld the beautiful somnambulist, the Spanish
girl, to whose gratitude or humanity I had owed
my escape from Mr. Bloodmoney's house, on the
memorable night of the burglary! She recognised
me at the same moment, and her confusion was
almost as great as my own; though, with me, to surprise
was added the fear and anticipated shame of
exposure: “in a moment,” thought I to myself, with
such thrills of dismay and anguish as I had never
before felt, `I become, instead of a gentleman volunteer,
a rascally housebreaker, angrily and ignominiously
expelled from the Intendant's house, perhaps
consigned to a Spanish prison.”

At that very moment of discovery, Colonel

Aubrey, who had already presented Captain Dicky
to his daughter, was in the act of commending me,
el Señor Voluntario, as he called me, to her notice.
He smiled at my agitation, as supposing it, perhaps,
the mere bashfulness of a gawky boy; but when he
saw that his daughter shared my confusion, he was
struck with astonishment, which immediately darkened
into suspicion and displeasure.

“How, Isabel!” he cried with a frown: “you
have then seen the young man before?”

“Si, padre mio querido! yes, my dear father,”
cried the lady, with a voice whose faltering tones
cut me to the soul, and I thought I should have sunk
through the floor; for the next word, and all must
be revealed, and the poor housebreaker—Fy! I
thought of Captain Brown and the Indian stakes on
the banks of the Tallapoosa, and I wished the
Creeks had finished their work, and burned us alive
—him for his villany in making me a burglar, and
me, if for no other purpose than to save me the
humiliation of the present moment.

But the humiliation endured only for a moment:
the voice of Isabel ceased to falter, her eye to dwell
upon the floor; and the angelic creature—for such
she now appeared—added, with equal firmness and
address, “I have seen him, my dear father; and I
owe it; perhaps, to the young gentleman that I am
now here alive before you! It was in Mr. Bloodmoney's
house: I wandered in my sleep—Santa
Maria! I shall never wander in sleep again!—a
robber was in the house: he seized me; and—and—
Yes, mi padre!” she cried with animation, “this
young man saved me from his murderous clutches!”

At this dreadful story, for dreadful it seemed to all.
Colonel Aubrey turned as pale as a ghost, the ecclesiastic
crossed himself, the caséra fetched a half

shriek, the negroes rolled their eyes, and Dicky
Dare, giving me a nudge on the ribs, whispered
eagerly—“I say, by Julius Cæsar, what's all this
the girl's talking about?”

“Seized by a robber!” at last ejaculated the Intendant;
“your life endangered!—in Mr. Bloodmoney's
house too? and I not told a word of it!”

“Alas!” cried Isabel; “the Señor Bloodmoney
was so much affected that such a thing should happen
to me in his house, and the Señora his wife so
deeply afflicted, so much afraid of your anger, that,
at her entreaty, I promised, before we sailed, you
should not know of it; and, though loath to conceal
any thing from my dear father, I should not have
told you what may be of disadvantage to the Señor
Bloodmoney to be known, (though, indeed, it was
not his fault, but the audacious villany of the robber,)—had
it not been for my surprise at so suddenly
seeing the young gentleman who rescued
me.”

What an amazing transition in my position, as
well as feelings! From a burglar, I was, as by a
touch of magic, converted into a hero; and from
emotions of terror and disgrace I passed into sensations
of the most rapturous delight and exultation.
My original feelings towards the lovely Isabel were,
as I have long since confessed, of a highly romantic
and tender character; and such was the nature of
those which now seized me, that I felt an almost
irresistible impulse to catch her in my arms, as the
scoundrel Brown had done, and profess I know not
how much of love and gratitude. And perhaps I
might, in the fervour of the moment, have committed
myself by some such demonstrations of affection,
had not Colonel Aubrey been prompted by a similar
impulse in favour of myself; whom he immediately

caught in his arms, calling me the preserver of his
child, his friend, his benefactor, and I know not
what beside.

But I do know that I had at that moment some
idea of what might be the feelings of a modest young
woman in a man's arms, by experiencing those of a
modest young man in a similar predicament. I was,
in a word, very anxious to get out of them, notwithstanding
all the Intendant's obliging expressions;
and perhaps I blushed the harder, after the embrace
was over, for Dicky Dare, whose curiosity was waxing
hot to penetrate the mysteries of my good fortune,
giving me a second nudge and whisper,—“I
say, by Julius Cæsar, what was the old gentleman
hugging you for? And why the dense don't we sit
down to dinner, before it spoils by standing?”