Souls Aflame (37 page)

Julie clung to Sara as they bounced and jostled in the wagon.

“Is we gonna make it?” the old Negro woman kept moaning. “Is we gonna get away?”

“With God’s help, Sara,” Julie whispered, breathing a bit easier with every passing second. “With God’s help, we will.”

Chapter Seventeen

Julie’s chin trembled as she lifted her head and fought to retain her composure while she moved through the throngs of jostling, drunken men. They seemed to be everywhere, swarming down upon the staid old town of Wilmington like crazed wasps without a home. She had been in the city only two days, having been forced to take shelter in a barn, along with Sara and Lionel. They had no money for a hotel room, even if one could be found, and the two faithful Negroes refused to leave her until she found someone to help her.

She prayed that someone would be Derek.

The old woman who had agreed to give them shelter had warned Julie of the terrible conditions that surrounded them. “The town has just turned topsy-turvy,” Pearl Watson said with disdain. “Speculators from all parts of the South wait around to go to the weekly auctions of imported cargo, and the town is infested with rogues and desperadoes who make their living by robbing and killing.”

She went on to say that it was not safe to go out at night anywhere, and there had even been shootings and knifings on the streets in the daytime. “Between the crews of the steamers in port and the soldiers stationed here, there’s always something going on. There’s been plenty of bodies found floating in the water around the docks, and the civil authorities can’t, or won’t, do anything to try and control the situation.”

Julie also heard how many of the permanent residents of Wilmington had moved elsewhere, letting their houses to those who could afford enormously inflated prices, usually the agents and employees of blockade-running companies. “Those who stay, like me,” Pearl explained resentfully, “who can’t afford to leave and ain’t got no place to go anyway, stay inside as much as possible. You seldom see a lady on the streets, believe me.”

The morning Julie set out for the Office of Orders and Details, Pearl was aghast. “You just can’t do it, child. You can’t go walking down to the waterfront.”

“I have to,” Julie tried to explain. “I talked with a soldier passing by the house yesterday, and he told me that the office was established to handle all orders and assignments for pilots and signal officers. He said he had never heard of a Captain Arnhardt, but that if his ship had been destroyed, and he was an experienced pilot, he would be registered with the Orders and Detail office. So that’s where I must go to locate him.”

“But you said you didn’t even know if he was alive,” Pearl argued.

“I can’t just sit here, can I? My purpose in coming to Wilmington was to try and find the one person I felt had the courage to help me. And if I find out he
is
dead, or he says he won’t help me, then I’ll just have to find another way, because I have to get my brother out of that prison—” Her voice broke, and she glanced away quickly, blinking back tears.

So she made her way through the streets, ignoring the crude remarks and hungry leers. Once a drunk grabbed at her skirt, ripping it as she twisted away frantically. She began to walk even faster, wishing it had not been necessary to sell the wagon and mules when they arrived in Wilmington. It would have been better had she not been forced to walk, but with no money for food, they had had no choice except to sell the animals.

Suddenly a fight erupted in a crowd through which Julie was about to pass. Trying to avoid the melee, she turned down a nearby alley, not knowing where it would take her, but wanting to escape trouble, if possible.

“Well, well, what we got here?”

Terror gripped her as she saw two bedraggled men struggling to their feet. They had been sitting in the shadows, drinking, and as soon as Julie saw them, she turned to run back toward the street. But they were too fast for her. One grabbed her, slinging her to the ground, and her screams only made them laugh as they fell together on top of her thrashing body.

“…been wantin’ some…” one of them said huskily, as he struggled to pin her arms beneath her, “…and here you come, just prissin’ along like some fine lady.”

“Hey, hurry and get her dress up,” the other panted. “I know it’s gonna be some sweet stuff. Ain’t she a pretty thing, though?”

Julie did not see another man rising from the shadows farther down the alley, nor could she see the long stick he carried with a sharp nail protruding from its end. He moved swiftly, knocking her first attacker from her with one swift blow to the back of his head, then smashing the other across the face. With blood streaming down, the second man ran toward the street. The other lay on the ground, not moving.

Julie shrank away, trembling with fright over what lay ahead. This man would rape her…she knew it… He had beaten off his friends because he wanted her all to himself. And then he would kill her, and there would be no one left to give a damn what happened to Myles. Her scream was low and piercing, like that of a dying animal…

“Please don’t be frightened,” he said suddenly, gently, kneeling beside her. “Are you all right? Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you. My, you are a lovely thing. What ever are you doing back here in an alley?”

She stared at him in silent confusion, praying he was telling the truth, that he intended her no harm. Nonetheless she remained on her guard.

He laughed softly. “I see. You don’t trust me, do you? Even after I saved you from those two rogues! Well, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Harley Beaumont, and I’m a soldier in the Confederate Army. I’m on leave. Now, I know you don’t think me much of a gentleman, sitting back in an alley and having a drink or two, but it does get rowdy in those saloons. I felt I was safer here. So!” He took a deep breath and gave her a warm smile. “Suppose you tell me
your
story now that I’ve told you mine. I assure you I mean you no harm.”

She eyed him warily. He was perhaps the same age as she, and while not handsome, he could hardly be considered repulsive. He had dark eyes, a ruddy complexion, and thin, straight lips. Despite his friendly overture, there was something indefinably sinister about his facial expression, and she still did not wholly trust him.

She saw no harm in telling him her name, however, or her mission. He listened, nodding now and then, and finally he got to his feet and pulled her up. “Now, are you sure you’re all right? You weren’t injured when they threw you to the ground?”

“No. I may have a few bruises, but nothing compared to my eventual injuries had you not intervened.” She forced a smile. “I do thank you, Mr. Beaumont. Now if you’ll excuse me, I do have to be on my way.”

“Call me Harley. I intend to call you Julie, if I may. And I would like to escort you to the Orders and Details office. I think by now you realize it just isn’t safe to be on the street.”

They stepped out of the alley. Julie saw that the fight she had fled from earlier had ended, but there were still mobs gathering about. She would have liked to take leave of her new-found acquaintance, but the idea of continuing on her way unescorted was not appealing. “Very well, Harley. I accept your kind offer, though I don’t know why you should bother with me. You’ve done enough already, and I can never repay you—”

He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and murmured, “Don’t worry about that. I’ve been rather lonely here in Wilmington, and it’s my good fate to meet so beautiful and charming a woman.”

Apprehension rippled through her and she decided it best to discourage any interest he might have in her as a woman. “I think it fair to tell you that the man I’m looking for is…” she took a deep breath, then easily rolled the lie from her tongue, “…my fiancé.”

She felt him stiffen, but only slightly, and the smile did not leave his lips. “Well, that is his good fortune, Julie. I envy him. But that doesn’t prevent me from still wanting to help you.”

She breathed a sigh of relief.

When they arrived at the office, they found it crowded with soldiers and crewmen who gave Julie curious glances. She left Harley standing just inside the door and made her way toward the counter that divided the room in half. She had no choice but to stand in the haphazardly formed line, and almost an hour passed before she was actually pressing herself against the wooden bar.

A bespectacled man glared at her and said in an impatient tone, “Yes, what is it? We’re quite busy here, and I can’t see where a woman’s got any business—”

Ignoring his rudeness, she said in a rush, “I must find someone. His name is Derek Arnhardt. Several months ago his ship was blown up by the Yankees near Bermuda. He was a blockade runner. I wish to know if he is registered here as being in service.”

He sighed with exasperation and snapped, “I’ve more important things to do than help you find your beau. This office was not established to locate missing suitors. Now if you’ll just step aside and let me help someone who has real business—”

“Wait a minute, Leland,” a stern voice spoke behind Julie. She turned to see a heavyset man standing there, and he looked quite angry as he said, “It won’t take you long to see if the man she’s looking for is registered here. Seems to me I heard about a runner by the name of Ironheart, or something like that. And you can look at this young lady and see that she’s no waterfront trollop out to track down her lover.”

Several others nearby chimed in in agreement, and the man called Leland realized he had no choice but to cooperate. Muttering angrily to himself, he moved from the counter to a shelf behind him, where several thick ledgers were stacked. Leafing through them with obvious irritation, he finally turned and snapped out the words Julie had prayed she would one day hear: “Yeah, there’s a pilot registered by the name of Arnhardt, assigned to the steamer
Pamlico
.”

Julie felt dizzy, and she gripped the edge of the counter with her fingertips to steady herself. He was alive. Derek was really alive. He had made it, and with a maddening whirl that sent her heart skipping, she wondered momentarily if she was overjoyed at the news because it meant he might indeed help her rescue Myles, or if there might be another, deeper, reason.

But this was no time to ponder the feelings in her heart. “Is he in port now?” she cried exuberantly. “And if he isn’t, when is he due in?”

Leland slammed the ledger shut angrily. “Look, lady, that’s all the information you’re getting out of me.” He looked about the room at those listening and snapped, “What’s the matter with you men? How do we know she isn’t a spy for the Yankees? We’ve got a war going on, in case you forgot.”

An awkward silence fell over the room, and then the men began to shuffle their feet, moving away from her with suspicious glances.

Pushing his way through the crowd, Harley wrapped his fingers tightly about her arm and whispered anxiously, “Let’s get out of here, Julie. You’ve gotten all the information they’re going to give you. I think I can find out whether or not the
Pamlico
is in port. Let’s just get the hell out of here.”

They walked several blocks in silence before he said, “I think his steamer may be in port. Seems like I heard that one mentioned in a bar the other night. But if she is, she’s due to run the blockade out of here anytime.”

Julie stopped walking and faced him excitedly. “Then let’s go at once and try to find him. We can walk along the docks and read the names on the ships, and when we find the
Pamlico
, all we have to do is ask to see the pilot—”

“No!” His eyes narrowed, and once again she was overcome by an ominous feeling about this man. He stared at her thoughtfully, tugging at his beard, then said, “I’ll slip down there and see what I can find out. It isn’t safe for you. Now where is this place you’re staying? I’ll walk you there, and when I get the information, I’ll come and tell you about it.”

She wondered why he seemed so nervous. He knew her financial plight, and could not expect to be paid for his services, yet there was definitely something on his mind. Surely he did not expect to be rewarded in “other ways.” Rather than chance his entertaining that sort of notion, she murmured, “I’ll just handle it from here on, Harley. You’ve been most kind, but I won’t impose on you any longer. You are on leave and supposed to be enjoying yourself, certainly not getting involved in my problems. So I thank you, and—”

To her surprise, he laughed, but it was not a pleasant sound. There was something insidious in the tone and the gleam in his eyes. “If you think I’m going to expect favors from you, Julie, you can set your mind at ease. I assure you I’ve got more important things on my mind just now. So just do as I say, and we’ll both wind up quite satisfied, I assure you.”

She was puzzled over his behavior but decided she was in no position to argue. It would be quite dangerous to venture to the waterfront and wander about looking for a steamer called the
Pamlico
, forced to ask questions of anyone she chanced to meet along the way. There was nothing to be done except allow him to help.

They returned to Pearl Watson’s, and then Harley left her, saying he would be back as soon as possible. When she went to the barn and told Sara about what she’d found out, Sara shook her head and said, “He ain’t gonna come back. And you ain’t got no business goin’ down there lookin’ fo’ that man yo’self. Why don’t we just go on up to Virginny and you can see about Mastah Myles yo’self?”

“I can’t do that,” Julie said quickly. “Those people at the prison aren’t going to just let Myles go, Sara. We’re going to have to help him to escape. And I can’t do it alone. If Harley doesn’t return tonight, there’s nothing for me to do but search for Derek myself, no matter how dangerous it might be.”