CHAPTER XVII.

ONCE MORE WE SAIL THE SEAS OVER.

Here in our country we know nothing of the annoyances and humbuggery of

the passport system, but now, as in 1872, every person desiring to leave

Brazil must be provided with a passport--if a foreigner, from his own

Government; if a native, one from the government of Brazil. When ready

to leave the country he must take his passport to police headquarters

and get it vised, at the same time notifying the police of the steamer

he proposes to sail on. Leaving the passport with the agent from whom he

buys his ticket, the latter, after ascertaining from the police that the

intending passenger is not wanted by the authorities, transmits the

passport to the purser of the steamer, who, in turn, hands it to the

passenger after the vessel is at sea.

It will be seen that these regulations make it difficult for a suspected

person to leave Brazil by the regular channels of communication, and

there are no back doors of escape in that country. Once in any seaport

town you must, if you leave at all, sail out of the harbor mouth, for in

the other direction, that is, inland, one is confronted by the mighty

tropical forests, the greater portion of which has never been looked

upon by the eye of man; and between all the seaports the same

impenetrable forest stretches.

So, straight out of the harbor between the Sugar Loaf and Fort Santa

Cruz Mac had to sail. How he should do so with safety was the problem we

had to solve. In this venture it would not do to have any blunders.

Without doubt the steamers would be watched for him, and instant arrest

and incarceration in the deadly tropical prison would be his lot if

discovered in the attempt to slip out of the country.

To complicate the matter here it was Monday, and no steamer to sail

until Wednesday, so there were forty-eight hours of frightful anxiety

ahead of us.

The Ebro, going to Europe, was in the harbor taking in cargo and coal.

The Chimborazo, going South, was not yet signaled, and we determined at

all hazards to get him off by the Ebro. We all had American passports,

and by the use of chemicals could alter the names and descriptions on

them at will.

Of course, the names in our passports were the same as we had in our

letters. George went to police headquarters, and giving a douceur to an

attendant, had the "vise" put on his passport at once. Then going to the

passenger agent he bought a ticket to Liverpool by the Ebro, and by

paying ten guineas extra had a stateroom assigned to him alone. After

this he took a boat and went out to the steamer, carrying with him two

bags of oranges and stowed them away under the bottom berths.

To make the escape a success it was decided prudent for George as Wilson

to get the agent well acquainted with his face and appearance, so if the

question was asked, "Who is this Wilson?" the police would see by the

description it was not the man they were looking for. For the next forty

hours George made the agent very tired. At one time he would want to

know if he could not get some reduction in the passenger rate, or if the

Ebro was seaworthy, or if there was any danger of her engines breaking

down, etc., until the agent got not only to know "Mr Wilson," but wished

him at the bottom of the sea.

When George started for the police office he left Mac and me alone in

the park.

[Illustration: "POINTING TO THE GOLD, MAC SAID: BOYS HELP

YOURSELVES."--Page 244.]

It was absolutely essential that Mac should put in one more appearance

at the bank. It was an ordeal, but one he had to undergo. He even

dreaded to return to his hotel, but go he must; so, just before the bank

closed, he called in and casually informed the manager that he should

start the next morning for S. Romao, a town in the interior of Brazil,

to be absent a week. He was then to go to the Hotel d'Europe, pay his

bill, at the same time stating that he was to leave Rio by the 4 o'clock

train the next morning, for San Paulo. As Mac had two trunks and other

impedimenta befitting a man of his importance, it was necessary to take

a carriage to the station, which was nearly a mile distant. It would be

unsafe to go in a carriage belonging to the hotel; therefore, he was to

say that a friend would call for him. As it was still two hours to

sunset, I suggested that after he had arranged matters he should saunter

out, walk about the streets until dark, then return to the hotel and be

ready when George should call for him at 3 o'clock the next morning.

After these arrangements we separated, George and I following to

ascertain if he was being watched or shadowed by detectives. When he

entered the hotel we remained in view of the entrance. It was not long

before he reappeared and walked leisurely along the street. A few

seconds after we saw another man come out, cross the street, and go in

the same direction. I followed him, and was soon satisfied that he was

keeping Mac in view. This sort of double hunt was kept up until dusk,

when Mac returned to his hotel, unconscious that a moment later his

"shadow" entered the place also. Here was a complication, indeed, though

it was no more than we had anticipated among the possibilities; still, I

had indulged in the hope that the bank would rely entirely upon the

passport system, and take no further steps for a day or two, which was

all the time required to carry out our plan. Though Mac had good nerve,

it was already somewhat shaken, and surely the situation would have

unnerved most men. Therefore, fearing that the certain knowledge of

imminent danger might still further confuse him and cause some false

move, we determined to keep our discovery to ourselves.

George next proceeded to an obscure part of the town, and stopping at a

small but respectable looking tavern, he engaged a room for the next

day, also a carriage, with an English-speaking driver, to be in

readiness at 3 o'clock the next morning. Promptly at the hour he was at

the livery stable, where he found the carriage ready, and was driven to

the Hotel d'Europe. Sending the driver up to the office on the second

floor, Mac soon appeared and informed him that he had promised to take

to the station a man who was stopping at the hotel. "He is going to S.

Romao by the same train," continued Mac, "and seems a good fellow, for I

had a long talk with him last night." Upon seeing signs of disapproval

in my face, he explained: "Well, you know, he said he could not get a

carriage at so early an hour in the morning, and I thought it could do

no harm to take him in, and he is waiting upstairs."

Here I joined them, and it would be difficult for the reader to imagine

the effect of this surprising communication upon our minds, for it was

clear enough that this was the very person who had been "shadowing" Mac

the day before, and had skillfully ingratiated himself into his new

friend's confidence. I could but admire his nerve in asking a

contemplated victim for a ride to the station. I said to Mac: "What in

the world can you be thinking of? Don't you see you are blocking our

whole plan? Go up and tell him your carriage is loaded down with

luggage, and express your regrets that you cannot accommodate him."

During this time the baggage was being placed in the carriage, and as

soon as Mac had dismissed his "passenger," who for some reason did not

show himself, we started rapidly for the station. On the way I requested

him to avoid making any new friends until he should find himself well

out at sea. I said:

"It might be fatal to attract the attention of any one, or to let any

one see you leave the train. Of course, this new acquaintance of yours

is only a countryman, but it is not possible to foresee what disaster

the least mistake or want of caution might originate. These cars are on

the English system, divided into compartments. You must go into the

station, stand near the ticket office until your new acquaintance comes,

then observe if he buys a first-class; if so, you take a second, and

vice versa. Pay no attention to him, and let him see you get into your

compartment, but keep an eye on his movements. In case he comes to get

in where you are, despite the different class of the tickets, tell him

the compartment is engaged. Everything depends on how you carry yourself

through the next twenty minutes. A single false step, a word too little

or too much, will surely prove fatal to all, for if anything happens to

you, we remain in Brazil."

In accordance with our pre-arranged plan, I stopped the carriage

opposite the station, it being still dark. Mac alighted, went straight

inside, and in a few minutes saw his "passenger" come puffing in, nearly

out of breath. Unquestionably supposing Mac's baggage to be already on

the train, he purchased a ticket, and after seeing his intended victim

enter a compartment, got into another himself just as the train began to

move. This was the vital moment for which Mac had been waiting, and,

quickly opening the door on the opposite side, he stepped off on that

side, hastily crossed to the other platform of the dimly lighted

station, and made his way unnoticed into the street. While this was

passing, I sat in the carriage, and it was not many minutes before I had

the satisfaction of seeing Mac coming back. But for the benefit of the

driver we then had a dialogue somewhat as follows:

"It is too bad. Our friends have not arrived. What shall we do?"

"Well, I suppose we must go back to the hotel and wait for the afternoon

train," I answered.

"But I have paid my bill there," said Mac, "and do not care to go back."

"Then," I replied, "meet me at the station, and I will look after the

luggage."

In case they recovered the trail, the information obtained from the

driver would cause confusion and delay sufficient, I hoped, to enable us

to get Mac out of Rio.

I then told the coachman to drive me into the city. It was not yet

daylight, but after a while I saw a sort of eating house and tavern

combined, and had the carriage halted there. Alighting, I entered and

said to the person in charge that I did not wish to disturb my friends

at so early an hour, and would pay him for taking care of my baggage, as

I wished to discharge the carriage. The offer was, of course, accepted,

the baggage housed and the carriage dismissed. In the mean time Mac was

waiting for us in an appointed place not far away, where I joined him,

and we went to the obscure tavern where the room had been engaged.

George was awaiting us.

So far our plan was successful. Mac was safely hidden away, while his

clever friend was speeding miles away on a wild goose chase. There was

only one train a day each way, and we knew the detective could not get

back to Rio until late. We felt certain that when he found Mac was not

on the train he would think his intended victim had slipped off at some

way station--possibly with a view of making his escape into the

interior; even if he sent a dispatch to the bank--an unlikely thing for

a Brazilian to do--it would doubtless be to the effect that his quarry

had left Rio on the early train that morning with him.

[Illustration: VIEW OF MONTEVIDEO.]

We passed some trying hours together. Then George left to take Mac's

baggage off to the steamer. He engaged two stalwart porters; they stand

on every corner busily engaged in plaiting straw for hats while

waiting for a job. Dividing the baggage between the two he had it

carried to the wharf, and, taking a small boat, quickly had it stowed in

the hold and the small articles carried to the stateroom. Soon after he

joined us on shore.

It was but 10 o'clock when he came, and it was with something like

dismay that we realized that the whole day was before us. Until the day

before, when Mac was in the bank, I had never known how long an hour

was, but this day we all came to know how long a day could be.

The Ebro was anchored out in the bay. Her coal was all stowed, but

strings of barges laden with sacks of coffee were alongside. She was

advertised to sail sharp at noon.

I went out once or twice to the bank and police headquarters, hanging

about for a few minutes to see if there was anything suspicious, but

there was nothing, and each time I hastened back to Mac.

Our presence cheered him up, and he could not brook our absence. At last

the long day drew to an end and the shadows, to our intense relief,

began to darken in our little room, where we were holding our watch. The

tropic night closes quickly in. Soon the city was shrouded in darkness,

and we sallied out to the beach at the head of the bay to find relief in

movement. The time passed quicker then, and at last we sat down on some

wreckage there and watched the tropic night as it revealed its wealth of

stars, and sitting there we began to philosophize, moralizing upon the

destiny of man and his relations to things seen and unseen, upon

spiritual force; most of all upon divine justice, which in the end evens

up all things. But like so many other philosophers who write the style

of the gods and make a pish at fortune, we failed to make a personal

application of our philosophy.

Near by there was a boat stand from which we had resolved to embark for

the steamer about two miles away. The night was lovely as a dream, and

we knew that midnight would find a large number of passengers on deck,

many of whom would pass the night there. Forward was all the bustle and

confusion inseparable from receiving and stowing cargo.

At 9 o'clock I left them to go and get the remainder of the gold not yet

on board--some four thousand pounds. The street cars passed near by, and

within half an hour I returned with the gold in a bag swung from my

shoulder by a heavy strap. I also had with me a woman's wrap and a silk

shawl. We sat for an hour longer, and then securing a boat with two

negro rowers, we pulled for the ship. Three or four small boats were

fastened to the companion ladder, and our arrival attracted no

attention. Two officials in uniform--probably custom officers--stood at

the companion way. It was an anxious moment, but we slipped through the

dimly lighted cabins and passages, and were soon safely in the

stateroom. Bidding both good-bye, and promising to be on board again at

8 in the morning, I went ashore and straight to bed, and soon was

dreaming of starlit seas, of tropic woods and Summer bowers, white and

sweet with May blossoms. My health then, as now, was perfect, and I

awoke fresh and hopeful. After breakfasting on a dish of prawns and

another of soft-shelled crabs, I was off across the bay. Soon after 8 I

knocked softly at the stateroom door, was admitted and presented the

lunch I had brought. They gave me a warm greeting, but neither had

slept. The room had been hot and stuffy, and the noise of stowing cargo

had helped to banish sleep. Both were unnerved somewhat, but I had just

come off shore confident and cheerful, and my confidence and spirits

proved infectious.

I knew by sight the chief of police and those just under him. I also

knew Braga, the bank manager, by sight. They, of course, did not know

me, and I could, unsuspected, be a looker-on in Vienna. Soon the

passengers, their friends and many idle visitors came off in boatloads,

while I, of course, scrutinized every boatload as it came up the side of

the ship.

At 9.30 I saw a boat coming, which, when half a mile away, I recognized

as containing the chief of police and several of his subordinates; ten

minutes after Braga and one of the bank officials came, the only

passengers in their boat, and at once joined the police on the after

deck and stood with them waiting and watching the boats as they arrived.

In the mean time babel reigned around the ship. About three score boats

surrounded her, the owners selling to the passengers everything from

oranges to monkeys, snakes and parrots.

I determined to conceal from George and Mac that Braga and the police

were on the ship, and about every twenty minutes I would slip down and

report "All's well;" but soon after 10 o'clock the enemy were joined by

the ticket agent from shore, and I could see they were contemplating

some movement. Slipping down to the cabin, I said: "Boys, everything is

all right; keep perfectly cool. Braga and the police are pulling to the

ship and may search it; if so, it will take half an hour to get here. I

will keep everything in my eye and give you ample notice." I then

returned on deck and stood among the officials. They conversed in

Portuguese, which was Greek to me; soon the agent dived below and

reappeared with the manifest of the passengers, and an enormous heap of

passports. After some conversation they sent the passports back; then,

headed by the agent and purser, manifest in hand, they began to verify

the list and scrutinize the passengers in the staterooms. Once more I

hurried below and reported.

Mac was naturally very dignified, but divesting himself of coat, vest

and dignity at the same time, he planted himself under the berth. Very

close and very hot quarters he found it, and we put the bags of oranges

in front, disposing of them so as to make it appear as if they filled

the whole space, when in reality they were a mere screen.

Then we opened the door to the fullest extent. We had taken off our

coats--it being frightfully hot--and with a bottle of claret and a bowl

of ice standing on the little washstand and two glasses all in full

view, we awaited the arrival of our friends, the enemy.

Our door was flat against the partition, giving a full sweep of the room

to the eye of the passerby, and George and I waited confidently for the

inspection we knew was inevitable. I sat on the foot of the lower berth,

smoking and swinging my feet. George sat on a folding camp-stool, with

his face toward the door, but not obstructing the view. Soon the

procession arrived, with the ticket agent in front. When he saw George

he at once recognized him as the Mr. Wilson who had bought the ticket,

and he simply said: "How do you do, Mr. Wilson?" and passed on without

looking in the room. Braga and the police followed, casually glanced at

us two, and were gone. I put on my coat and followed the procession, and

at 11.30 they went up on the after deck, evidently satisfied that their

man was not on the ship, and contented themselves with watching new

arrivals. I flew down, gave them the good news that the search was over,

and poor Mac, half-roasted, came from behind the bags of oranges.

Declaring he was roasted alive and dying of thirst, he finished the

bottle of iced claret.

Ten minutes before 12 the bell was rung and all people for shore were

warned to leave. Soon we heard the pleasant sound of the steam winch

lifting the anchor, and at noon precisely, to our relief, the screw

began to revolve at quarter speed, and the Ebro to respond by forging

slowly ahead. All boats fell off but ours and the police boat. At last,

after giving a good look up and down the bay, Braga and the police

entered the boats, and, casting off, soon were left behind. Once more

and for the last time I flew down to the cabin. They saw the good news

in my face; then, shaking Mac's hand in hearty farewell, we ran to the

upper deck, down the ladder into our boat, and a moment later the big

ship, putting on full steam, left us astern, we ordering the boatman to

pull hard after the ship. Mac soon appeared on the after deck, and waved

his handkerchief to us in farewell. We gave him three cheers, and,

excited and happy, with our long anxiety over, we returned to the shore.

With Mac sailing northward ho! with Wilson's passport and ticket in his

pocket, and all our money save two thousand pounds in his trunk, our

buccaneering expedition on the Spanish Main was over and all but a

failure when comparing the L10,000 we had captured with our magnificent

expectations.

Here was a gigantic and well-conceived scheme which had almost collapsed

through trifles, which, to an honest enterprise would have been light as

air, but which to us and to our plans were of crushing force, built up,

as all schemes of wrong doing are, on foundations of sand.

To conclude very briefly the narrative of this expedition, I will here

add that the day after Mac's departure, altering his passport to fit

George's description, we sailed on the Chimborazo south to Montevideo.

Upon our arrival we, with all other passengers for the town, were

promptly put in quarantine for ten days in a vile little island called

in irony the Isle of Flowers; but the mails were fumigated and sent

through, as were two additional mails arriving from Europe and Rio. When

our quarantine was over we were permitted to enter the city. We found

that some advice or rumor had reached there, and we feared to venture

our letters of credit for money. So, destroying all documents save our

passports, we paid a visit to Buenos Ayres, and then we embarked on a

French steamer for Marseilles, arriving there without any particular

adventure, and the next day had a happy meeting with Mac in Paris.