University of Virginia Library

41. CHAPTER XLI.
THE UNDERGROUND BRIDAL CHAMBER.

Captain Bim conducted Popoli down to the river side,
and through the encampment of the combined armies.

Entering a light boat, Bim took the helm, and Popoli
unfurled the sail to the breeze, he being an expert sailor,
and they were soon going at the rate of four miles an hour.

“Popoli,” said Bim, “it would be unfortunate for you if
any of the enemy's boats should board us.”

“Why, Captain?” asked the Italian, whose eyes had
been fixed on the various sail crossing above.

“Because, Signor, my oath expired last night: and I
don't intend to renew it till we are where I mean to leave
you, according to promise, with your friend Cardini.”

“I shall be glad to see him, Captain. I wouldn't escape
if I had an opportunity; it would prevent my meeting with
my friend.”

“Only be patient, Signor, and you shall see him, if he
still lives.”

“Was he not well?”

“Oh, quite well, but not in very good spirits. Confound
the fish!” Bim made this exclamation when a large sturgeon
leaped over his head and splashed a quantity of water
into the boat. “That fellow, Signor,” he continued, “was
heavy enough to have knocked a man overboard. If he
had struck me in the breast, you might have been free.”

“Can't you swim?” asked Popoli, eagerly.

“Suppose you try me, Signor?” was Bim's response,
not choosing to confess the truth. “If you have any
curiosity that way, just flap the boat over with the sail at
the next tack, and we'll see who can dive the longest.
Speaking of diving, I thought you were gone last night
when you didn't come up where I was looking; and all the
time your nose was above water behind me. I shall say
nothing about your attempt to stab me, because I don't
wish to lose my temper, and miss the satisfaction of witnessing

your meeting with Cardini. You asked me where
Cardini was, I think, and I believe I'll tell you.”

“If you please, Captain.”

“He's at General Ruffleton's head-quarters.”

“How can that be, Captain, since the General has sent
messengers in all directions to find him?”

“Oh, they didn't look in the right chamber.”

“But don't you think he's gone by this time?”

“Never fear it. I'll answer for it he remains till he gets
my permission to leave. And you must do the same.
Will you not promise?”

“Yes, Captain, if you insist.”

“I won't insist, Signor. So you see what a kind captor
you have. And yet you determined to kill me! But I
won't think of that. There goes another fish. Take
care!” The warning was too late; for the sturgeon
striking the Italian's shoulder, carried him overboard. But
Popoli rose immediately, and without difficulty clambered
into the boat again. “They must be curious to see what's
going on out of the water,” continued Bim, seeing a great
many sturgeons leaping above the surface, “and I don't
wonder at it, after all the bombarding and bombursting we
have had in this neighborhood.”

In this familiar manner the captor and the captive approached
the city, and landed in one of the slips just after
nightfall. Having secured the boat to one of the rings at
the wharf, Bim, taking the right arm of Popoli, led the
way cautiously in a westerly direction.

Not half the lamps were burning, the shops were closed
as on a Sunday night, and but few persons were seen promenading
the streets.

Having thrown off his military costume it was not difficult
for Bim, with his free and easy bearing, and familiar
speech, to pass without hindrance to the Square in the
rear of Independence Hall. Here there were several thousand
loungers around the platform under the trees, whence
the news from all quarters were promulgated by a committee
appointed for that purpose.

Bim did not wait to hear any more news of the operations
of the Dictator, but proceeded without further delay to the
row of buildings on Sixth street, which he had so often resorted
to previously. He found but slight impediment to

his entrance at the same door he had forced on several
occasions. Closing this carefully behind him, he struck
a light. Then turning to Popoli, he said, with uplifted
hand:

“I do hereby swear that I will not kill you, Signor
Popoli, this night, provided you do not attempt to escape,
don't try to give any alarm, don't try to kill me, and don't
give me more provocation than common flesh and blood
can bear—so help me—! Now, Signor, you are entirely
safe, as it concerns the things you have committed heretofore;
and you have only to be governed by the conditions
of my oath to-night, to preserve your body in a whole skin.”

“Take me to Cardini, Captain. Where is he?”

“Don't be impatient! You will find him soon enough.
Did you ever hear of the Underground Bridal Chamber in
these parts?”

“Never. It would be strange, indeed, to put a bride
underground anywhere.”

“But it might be convenient, sometimes; and particularly
when a man has more brides than he can manage conveniently,
or a single one that annoys him. This Underground
Bridal Chamber was ordered to be constructed by
a certain very powerful man, whose name it would do no
one in this company any good to use, for the purpose, as it
was thought, of holding one or more of his troublesome
wives—”

“Is it a prison—a dungeon, Captain Bim?”

“What's the use of inquiring so particularly about your
lodgings after you have engaged them, and when you will
be occupying them in a few minutes?”

“And can it be possible, Captain Bim, that Cardini is
confined in this locality.”

“It is not only possible, Signor, but exactly so. Of course
the General would go from home to look for a lost child.
Of all the places in the world, it was the most secure one
for Cardini's concealment. I will not say I had the genius
to perceive this at first. But I see it now. Come, Signor,
take a full breath of the upper air, and then we'll descend.”
Saying this Bim touched the spring, and the hearth-stone
flew up. Popoli started back. “Oh! you mustn't flinch
at that,” said Bim; “it's nothing to the other sights you
must see. Go down, Signor—there's the ladder—and I'll

bring up the rear. Remember my oath. If you break it,
it won't be my fault. Reflect one moment—it's the last I'll
allow you. If you go down quietly, and do everything I
order obediently, it will be an easier and more comfortable
way to meet Cardini, than to be knocked down and dragged
in—won't it?”

“Yes, Captain!” said Popoli, convinced there was no
other alternative. He descended, and was followed by
Bim with the light. And in this manner they proceeded to
the iron door of the chamber.

“The bars and bolts are just as I left them,” said Bim,
“black and rusty. Signor Cardini!” he continued, rapping
with the hilt of his bowie knife. “Wake up! I've brought
you an agreeable companion. Why don't you answer?
I've got Signor Popoli here for you—and if you don't give
me a signal of approbation, I'll take him somewhere else!”

“No! no!” cried Cardini.

“That is his voice!” said Popoli.

“To be sure it is,” said Bim. He opened the door, and
the Italians rushed into each other's arms.

“Oh, Signor!” cried Cardini. “Do you come to set me
free, or as a fellow prisoner?”

“The latter, Signor!” said Popoli.

“Stop a moment!” cried Bim, gazing at Cardini. “Stand
apart! Are you the same Signor Cardini I put in here for
murdering General Hudson?”

“The same, Sergeant—”

“Stop! Say Captain. I've been promoted.”

“Then, noble Captain, I am the same unhappy man.
But do not call me a murderer. It was only a blow of
policy, to serve—”

“Never mind who it served. I know all about it. But
the reason I didn't know you was that your hair has
changed. It was black when I chucked you in this place,
and now it's white!”

“Captain!” said Popoli, “you have a generous heart!”

“Not a bit! Don't believe it!” said Bim, gazing at the
prisoners, who again embraced each other.

“Captain!” said Popoli—“I will make a confession to
you! Signor Cardini is my father!”

“He is? But it may be a lie. Then what if he is? It
only goes to show that assassination is hereditary.”

“Will you not release him?”

“Release the d—l! What mercy did he show to
General Hudson? And what mercy did you show to the
President?”

“I ask no favor for myself, Captain. But you know the
man my father slew was at the head of the army which you
have been fighting. Would you not kill the head of that
same hostile army now, if you could?”

“In fair fight. But I would not stab the d—l himself
in the dark. No, Signor; you must both remain in this
Underground Bridal Chamber until called for. But you
shan't starve. I'll roll in another barrel of crackers, and
more smoked fish. You have abundance of water. All I
can say is to advise you to put yourselves on short allowance,
and pray morning, noon, and night; for I can't say when I
shall be able to see you again.” Saying this, Bim threw in
the food he promised, and fastening the door securely, returned
to the upper region.

All was perfectly still and silent in the chambers. Not
even a rat was heard; and Bim really felt lonely after the
separation from his Italian captive. Nothing, however,
could frighten him but a ghost. He slowly ascended the
stairs. When he approached the door of the attic chamber
containing his treasure, he was surprised to find the door
partly open, and a light in the room.

“Hello! Old Tuppenny,” said he, “I'm afraid you're
getting extravagant. How could you afford to buy a candle?
Where are you?” he continued, stepping in, and
turning his face towards the closet, which was closed, and
no Jew Mouser appearing before him. But behind him, in
a corner, there was an awful spectacle. The Jew, having
heard Bim confess his horror of ghosts, and his quick ear
having warned him of his arrival, he resolved to put in
execution a plan he had conceived of personating a spectre.
The difficulty was how to present a resemblance of a ghost,
Solomon having never seen one himself. Nevertheless, presuming
it must have a frightful aspect, old Mouser had put
on a mask, representing the face of a corpse, and enveloping
himself in a sheet that reached the floor, notwithstanding
he was mounted on a high stool, he awaited the result.

“Don't you hear?” continued Bim, stopping down before

the closet. “Answer me, or I'll get mad. You won't?
Then I'll go in after you!”

He pulled the door open and entered, taking his candle
with him.

“By George, he's not here!” said he. “But here's the
coffee-bag, and the gold jingles in it. The old dog is getting
negligent. I thought he would die with his eyes set
on the gold, rather than live and go to heaven without it.
So, my old Mouser, I will not trust you any longer with
my purse—and I won't pay you, either, for deserting your
post. I'll take the whole concern along with me, and let
him nose it out again if he can. So, come along!”

This time he left the closet head foremost, dragging the
bag after him. And when he rose, his eyes rested on the
chalky face of the apparition.

“What's that?” said he, letting the coffee-bag fall with
a great crash. “By George! I'm afraid I've met with
my match at last! I never heard my teeth clatter this way
before. I'll run.” He did so; but before he had descended
many steps, he paused and looked back. “I don't like to
leave my gold,” said he, “nor do I fancy showing the white
feather before I'm hurt. I wouldn't mind killing, if that
would be the last of it; but who can tell what an infernal
spirit might do with one after death? Still, I ought to be
satisfied that it is a ghost. It's not human, I think; neither
flesh, fish, nor common red herring; but still it may not be a
ghost. Suppose it's a mere trick? A corpse some one has
been propping there to frighten me? or to frighten the
Jew? I'll go back! I never was, and never will be, a
coward!”

The Captain, turning about, retraced his steps. And
when he re-entered the room, the ghost was still there; but
the sheet which enveloped it had been evidently readjusted
since his exit.

“It's alive anyhow,” said Bim, staring with his great
round eyes. “It's moved its covering, and I see the leg
of the stool. That's queer. I thought a ghost could stand
on nothing. By George! I think I see the toe of a boot!
I never heard of ghosts wearing boots. See here, Mr.
Ghost, or hobgoblin, or whatever you are, I want an explanation.
You've injured me cruelly. You've made my
blood run cold; you've made my cap too little for my head;

you've made my teeth bite my tongue; and you've caused
my knee bones to smite each other as if they were not twins,
but enemies. I'm a badly used man! Now, let me hear
your explanation for such malignities and aggressions!”

The lips of the mask seemed to move, but no sound issued
from them.

“Speak louder,” said Bim; and speak English—for I
don't understand the lingoes of the infernal regions.”

The only response to this was a motion of the arm, which
pointed to the door.

“That, I suppose, said Bim, “is meant for a polite way
of ordering me out!”

To this the ghost nodded assent.

“By George! he understands English, if he can't speak
it. I believe I'll go. But I'll take the bag.” He cast his
eyes down at the sack, and then looked again at the ghost.
The ghost shook his head violently in dissent.

“That's singular,” said Bim. “What can it want with
money? It begins to shake my belief in ghosts—or in this
one anyhow. Suppose I try him? If it's only the ghost
of the Jew, who may be dead, I don't wonder at its love
for money, and I oughtn't to be afraid of it. See here, sir!
Everybody who ever saw a ghost, says neither steel nor lead
can hurt it. What do you say?”

The ghost, who had been looking over its right shoulder,
turned its face quickly in front, for Bim had placed his
hand on one of the pistols in his belt.

“If you have any objection to my trying the experiment,
signify it by saying no. The ball's lead, as you well know,
if you are a true ghost. No answer? By George! his
knees are knocking together like mine did! Why, a ghost
can't be afraid! No matter; I'll make a bull's eye of his
nose!”

“Don't shoot!” said the ghost.

“Ha!” said Bim, lowering the muzzle of the pistol, and
stepping back against the wall. “That was good enough
English! But if he's afraid of a bullet, how can he be a
ghost?”

“I was only amusing myself!” said Solomon, throwing
off the mask and sheet, and stepping down from the stool.

Bim, placing his arms akimbo, gazed for a long time in
silence and with perfect gravity at the Jew.

“It was only a little fun,” said Solomon.

Bim continued to stare in silence.

“A little innocent amusement!” continued Solomon.

“Mr. Solomon Mouser,” said Bim at length, “you have
done that which mortal humanity never did before. You
have made my strong joints tremble, and my hot blood turn
cold like a frog's. I would certainly kill you, if I didn't
think I might be ashamed of it afterwards. Perhaps it's a
good thing for me. It may cure my fear of ghosts. I'll
certainly fire at the next I see before I run. You may live,
if you'll get down on your knees and swear never to tell
anybody that you frightened Jack Bim.”

He did so without the least hesitation.

“And, Captain,” said Mouser, “I swear I will never be
a ghost again.”

“No. You needn't swear to that. If you have any
taste for the fun, I shan't object to it. Now to business.
Come, Old Tuppenny, I dreamt the other night you were
cheating me.”

“Cheating you! I'll show you the figures!”

“No doubt. And I know figures can't lie—but those
who make them can. I've seen it done at elections. You
have some $26,000—”

“No, sir! Here's the sum, on this paper. It is only
$25,900 19.”

“Well, what's the difference?”

“Why ninety-nine dollars and eighty-one cents!”

“Say twenty-five thousand, then, to make it even—”

“Very good! I'll alter it.”

“You are a skinflint—and you won't gain by your avariciousness!”
said Bim, snatching the pen out of the Jew's
hand. “One tenth of one per cent. for keeping the deposit,
would be some twenty-five dollars a day! That's
more than the pay of a member of Congress, whose board
costs him as much in one week as yours does in twelve
months. Twenty-five dollars was too much to ask, old Tuppenny—”

“You agreed to it! You agreed to it! It was a fair
bargain! And it's upwards of twenty-five dollars and ninety
cents—”

“I shan't dispute about the cents, Solomon, nor fly from
my contract, either, because I've found out how you intended

to swindle me in time to prevent it. You know well
enough that I had no idea of the amount it would come to.
It was unjust, and if you had been a Christian instead of a
Jew, you would not have accepted an unfair compensation
for your service. But that was not all. You loaned me a
thousand dollars, at I don't know what rate of interest, to
keep from lessening the deposit, and of course the commission.
So I am paying you a dollar a day commission for
keeping my thousand dollars, and you are charging me interest
on yours. That's the true statement of the case, Solomon!”

“It was a contract—a fair contract!” said the Jew.

“But I did not bind myself to let the deposit remain any
particular length of time.”

“That's true. But the law requires notice—”

“The law! Don't name it, Jew. This right arm is my
law in such times as these—beware it does not become your
executioner! Count out the amount due to you up to this
minute, and take your pay.”

“Oh, Captain—don't remove the deposit. In these lawless
times it will be lost.”

“Take your pay, Tuppenny! Then, perhaps, I'll make
another bargain with you.”

“Well! I will do so!” and Solomon counted out his money.

“Now, Tuppenny,” said Bim, “I'm going to leave just
twenty thousand with you, and will allow you no commission
except on the sums I draw out. You shall have ten
per cent. on all payments. Don't object, or I'll take it all,
and you shall have nothing!”

“Captain, won't you allow me commission on the six
thousand—”

“Six thousand! Why Solomon, you said yourself it was
only $25,900 19—then deducting the thousand I borrowed,
only twenty-four thousand nine hundred remained. Surely
it must be a pleasure for you to cheat, besides the love of
gain! No—I will not pay you a cent for nothing. If you
asked it as charity—”

“I'm no beggar, Captain!”

“I know that, well enough—but I came near saying you
were a robber. However, I'm not afraid to trust you; and
you can make some sort of calculation of your gains by our
new contract. But I'm going to make a will—so if I die,

or if you hire any one to murder me, you needn't think to
get my money.”

The Jew durst not demur to Bim's dictation. And the
Captain, after settling with his banker, and leaving in his
custody an unincumbered deposit of $20,000, departed with
the remainder of the treasure.

Bim could not resist an inclination to explore the buildings
further down the row, where he had already met with
so many adventures; and so he passed through the several
apertures until he came to the parlor in which he had found
Mary Penford, and, subsequently, captured the assassin Cardini.
Again he found the parlor illuminated; and, sitting
in the large luxuriously-cushioned chair, was Mrs. Punt.
She was reading the New York —, in which were published
the proceedings of the Convention, and General Ruffleton
appeared in almost every paragraph.

The Captain strode in and stood before the astonished
woman. She let the paper fall to the floor, rose up, and
was just opening her mouth to utter a piercing scream,
when Bim stepped forward and placed his hand on it.

“Don't scream, Mrs. Punt,” said he; “there's no occasion
for it. You know me, and I know you. And I
know your husband. Now will you be quiet if I release
you?”

She nodded assent, and Bim replaced her in the chair.
Then sitting down beside her, he coolly inquired after her
health since his last visit.

“I've been well enough,” said she.

“But what are you in mourning for?'

“I'm sure there's enough to mourn for in this wicked
world. I thought Punt had been killed at Bladensburg—”

“But you were disappointed.”

“He might as well be dead, for I haven't got a cent from
him yet.”

“There has been no one to send it by. I merely called
to let you know I'm going to Washington soon, and will
deliver any message you may wish to send.”

“All the message I have to send is, that I'd like to
have the money he earns to support his children with.
I do n't know when I'm to see the General again, and
he's left nobody here to pay me my wages. He's left
plenty of wines, cigars, and such things—”

“Mrs. Punt,” said Bim, interrupting her, “I'm thirsty.
Get me some wine and cake, or anything else that's convenient,
if you please.”

“It's not mine, and I don't care who drinks it,” said she,
rising and producing a waiter and decanters from a closet.
Bim helped himself, and invited Mrs. Punt to drink, which
she accepted.

“Now a cigar,” said he, “and I'll be in good condition
to travel.” This, likewise, was produced; and the Captain
igniting it, shook hands with the hostess and departed.