Part 46 (1/2)
I heaved a sigh of relief and gratification, and sped back the answer, ”_No._”
CHAPTER x.x.xI.
CARNES TELLS HIS STORY.
The time came when Carnes told me the story of his New Orleans search.
As he related it to me then, let him relate it now:--
Arrived in New Orleans without trouble or delay, at three o'clock in the afternoon. Registered at the ”Hotel Honore,” a small house near the levees; giving my name as George Adams, sugar dealer, from St. Louis.
Then began a hunt among the theaters, and, before seven o'clock I had found the place I wanted,--”The Little Adelphi,” owned and managed by ”Storms & Brookhouse.” It is a small theater, but new and neatly fitted up, has a bar attached, and beer tables on the floor of the auditorium.
I made no effort to see Brookhouse, but went back to the ”Honore,” after learning that money would open the door of the green room to any patron of the theater.
After supper I refreshed my memory by a look at the pictures of the missing young ladies, including that of Miss Amy Holmes, and then I set out for the little Adelphi.
There was never an easier bit of work than this New Orleans business.
The curtain went up on a ”Minstrel first part,” and there, sitting next to one of the ”end men,” was Mamie Rutger!
Her curly hair was stuck full of roses. She wore a very short pink satin dress, and her little feet were conspicuous in white kid slippers. If Miss Mamie was forcibly abducted, she has wasted no time in grieving over it. If she has been in any manner deceived or deluded, she bears it wonderfully well. She sang her ballad with evident enjoyment, and her voice rang out in the choruses, clear and sweet. Her lips were wreathed in smiles, her cheeks glowed, and her eyes sparkled. Occasionally she turned her head to whisper to the blacked-up scamp who sat at her right hand. Altogether she deported herself with the confidence of an old _habitue_ of the stage. Evidently she had made herself popular with the Little Adelphi audiences, and certainly she enjoyed her popularity.
After the first part, I watched the stage impatiently, it being too early to venture into the green-room.
Mamie Rutger did not re-appear, but, after an hour, occupied princ.i.p.ally by ”burnt cork artists,” Miss Lotta Le Clair, ”the song and dance Queen,” came tripping from the wings; and Miss Lotta Le Clair, in a blue velvet coat and yellow satin nether garments, was none other than Amy Holmes! She danced very well, and sang very ill; and I fancied that she had tasted too often of the cheap wine dealt out behind the bar.
Very soon after her exit I made my way to the green-room, piloted by the head waiter. I had, of course, gotten myself up for the occasion, and I looked like a cross between a last year's fas.h.i.+onplate and a Bowery blackleg.
It is always easy to make a variety actress talk, and those at the Little Adelphi proved no exception. Two or three bottles of wine opened the way to some knowledge.
By chatting promiscuously with several of the Adelphi belles, I learned that Amy Holmes and Mamie Rutger, who, by the way, was ”Rose Deschappelles” on the bills, lived together. That Amy, who was not known at the theater by that name, was ”a hard one,” and ”old in the business;” while ”Rose” was a soft little prig who ”wore her lover's picture in a locket,” and was ”as true to him as steel.” The girls all united in voting Amy disagreeable, in spite of her superior wisdom; and Mamie, ”a real nice, jolly little thing,” spite of her verdancy.
The fair Amy was then approached, and my real work began. I ordered, in her honor, an extra brand of wine. I flattered her, I talked freely of my wealth, and displayed my money recklessly. I became half intoxicated in her society, and, through it all, bemoaned the fact that I could not offer, for her quaffing, the sparkling champagne that was the only fitting drink for such a G.o.ddess.
The Adelphi champagne _was_ detestable stuff, and Miss Amy was _connoisseur_ enough to know it. She frankly confessed her fondness for good champagne, and could tell me just where it was to be found.
The rest came as a matter of course. I proposed to give her a champagne banquet; she accepted, and the programme was speedily arranged.
At eleven o'clock the next day, she would meet me at a convenient little restaurant near the theater. I must come with a carriage. We would have a drive, and, just outside the city, would come upon Louis Meniu's Summer _cafe_. There we would find fine luscious fruits, rare wines, everything choice and dainty.
Miss Amy, who seemed to possess all the luxurious tastes of a native creole, arranged the programme, and we parted at the green-room door, mutually satisfied, she antic.i.p.ating a gala day, and I seeing before me the disagreeable necessity of spoiling her frolic and depriving the Little Adelphi, for a time at least, of one of its fairest attractions.
The course which I had resolved to pursue was not the one most to my taste; but it was the simplest, shortest, and would accord best with the instructions given me, viz., that no arrests must be made, nor anything done to arouse the suspicions of Fred Brookhouse, and cause him to give the alarm to his confederates in the North.
I had purposely held aloof from Mamie Rutger, feeling convinced that it were best not to approach _her_ until a definite course of action had been decided upon. Nor was I entirely certain that my scheme would succeed. If Amy Holmes should prove a shade wiser, shrewder, and more courageous, and a trifle less selfish and avaricious than I had judged her to be, my plans might fail and, in that case, the girl might work me much mischief.
I weighed the possibilities thoughtfully, and resolved to risk the chances.
Accordingly, on the morning after my visit to the Little Adelphi, I sent my first telegram, and made arrangements for putting my scheme into execution.