The End of New York
by
INTRODUCTORY.
THE WAR CLOUD.
Towards dusk on the afternoon of Monday, December 5th, 1881, the French steamer “Canada,” from Havre, arrived at her pier in New York City. Among the passengers was a tall, dark, rather fine-looking man, of about middle-age. After the usual examination of his baggage by the Custom House officials had been made, this person, accompanied by a lady, took a hack at the entrance of the pier, and was driven to the Fifth Avenue Hotel. The initials on the luggage strapped on the rear of the vehicle were M.B.
In conversing with the driver the gentleman–for his appearance and bearing fully indicated his right to the title–spoke English, though somewhat imperfectly; with the lady he talked in sonorous Castilian.
Apparently, no one bestowed any particular notice upon the pair. They were two foreigners out of the great throng of foreigners which lands daily in the metropolis; they were Spaniards and reasonably well-to-do, seeing that they came over in the saloon, and not in the steerage.
The names registered at the hotel were Manuel Blanco and wife.
Late during the following evening the lady personally came to the office seemingly in great distress. An interpreter being procured, it was learned that Senor Blanco, in response to a visiting-card sent to his room, had left the apartment shortly after breakfast that morning, and had not since returned.
The lady explained that he had no business affairs in New York, and that they were merely resting in the city for a few days to recover from the effects of the ocean voyage, before going to Charleston, S.C., their destination.
The clerk in the office simply knew that a stranger had called and sent a card to Senor Blanco, and that the two, after meeting, had left the hotel together.
The anxiety of Senora Blanco was evidently excessive. She rejected such commonplace reasons as that her husband might have lost his way, or that some unlooked-for business matters had claimed his attention.
“No, no!” she repeated, almost hysterically; “no beezness. Ah, Dios! El esta muerte.”
A physician was sent for, and the lady, who was fast reaching a stage of nervous prostration, placed in his care. The hotel detective proceeded at once to Police Headquarters, whence telegrams were despatched to the various precincts, giving a description of the missing man, and making inquiries concerning him. The replies were all in the negative: no such person had come under the notice of the police.
From what has thus far been narrated, it might be inferred that Blanco’s absence was due to one of those strange disappearances which happen in great cities. The inference, however, would be wrong. Blanco had not disappeared.
True, his agonized wife and the police of New York City had no trace of his whereabouts; but Mr. Michael Chalmette, an officer detailed by the U.S. Marshal in New Orleans to arrest Leon Sangrado, at the request of the Republic of Chili, on the charge of repeatedly committing murder and highway robbery in that country, was entirely sure that the missing person was sitting beside him, handcuffed to his left wrist, and that both were speeding toward New Orleans as fast as a railway-car could take them.
When the French steamer “Canada” arrived, Mr. Michael Chalmette, wearing the uniform and badge of a Custom House officer, stationed himself by the gang-plank and narrowly scrutinized each passenger that came ashore. While Blanco’s trunks were being examined, he stood near that gentleman, and furtively compared his features with those on a photograph. It was Chalmette who sent the card to Blanco’s room, in the hotel, next day, and who induced Blanco to accompany him in a carriage, as he said, to the Custom House, to arrange some irregularity in the passing of Blanco’s luggage. The driver of that carriage, however, was told to go to the Pennsylvania Railroad Depot, in Jersey City.
Blanco evinced some surprise on being taken across the ferry, but was easily satisfied by his companion’s explanation that the branch of the Custom House to be visited was on the Jersey side.