Chapter XXXIX

Half-way down to the blazing trash-houses, Mr Dupuy and his little band of black allies, all armed only with the sticks they had hastily seized from the stand in the piazza, came on a sudden face to face with the wild and frantic mob of half-tipsy rioters. ‘Halt!’ Mr Dupuy called out in a cool and unmoved tone of command to the reckless insurgents, as they marched on in irregular order, brandishing their cutlasses wildly in the flickering firelight. ‘You black-guards, what are you doing here, and what do you mean by firing and burning my trash-houses?’

By the ruddy light of the lurid blaze behind him, Louis Delgado recognised at once the familiar face of his dearest enemy. ‘Me fren’s,’ he shrieked, in a loud outburst of gratified vindictiveness, ‘dis is him—dis is him—dis de buckra Dupuy we come to kill now! De Lard has delibbered him into our hands witout so much as gib us de trouble ob go an’ attack him.’

But before even Delgado could bring down with savage joy his uplifted weapon on his hated enemy’s bare head, Mr Dupuy had stepped boldly and energetically forward, and catching the wiry African by his outstretched arm, had cried aloud in his coolest and most deliberate accents: ‘Louis Delgado, put down your cutlass. As a magistrate for this island, I arrest you for riot.’

His resolute boldness was not without its due effect. For just the swing of a pendulum there was a profound silence, and that great mob of strangely beraged and rum-maddened negroes held its breath irresolutely, doubting in its own six hundred vacillating souls which of the two things rather to do—whether to yield as usual to the accustomed authority of that one bold and solitary white man, the accredited mouthpiece of law and order, or else to rush forward madly and hack him then and there into a thousand pieces with African ferocity. So instinctive in the West Indian negro’s nature is the hereditary respect for European blood, that even though they had come there for the very purpose of massacring and mutilating the defenceless buckra, they stood appalled, now the actual crisis had fairly arrived, at the bare idea of venturing to dispute the question openly with the one lone and unarmed white man.

But Louis Delgado, African born that he was, had no such lingering West Indian prejudices. Disengaging his sinewy captive arm from Mr Dupuy’s flabby grasp with a sudden jerk, he lifted his cutlass once more high into the air, and held it, glittering, for the twinkling of an eye, above the old man’s defenceless head. One moment, Uncle ’Zekiel saw it gleam fearfully in the red glare of the burning trash-houses; the next, it had fallen on Mr Dupuy’s shoulder, and the blood was spurting out in crimson splashes over his white tie and open shirt-front, in which he had risen but a few minutes before so unsuspectingly from his own dinner-table.

The old planter reeled terribly before the violent force of that staggering blow, but kept his face still turned bravely with undiminished courage toward the exultant enemy. At the sight of the gushing blood, however—the proud buckra blood, that shows so visibly on the delicate white European skin—the negroes behind set up a loud and horrid peal of unearthly laughter, and rushed forward, all their hesitation flung away at once, closing round him in a thickly packed body, each eager not to lose his own share in the delightful excitement of hacking him to pieces. A dozen cutlasses gleamed aloft at once in the bare black arms, and a dozen more blows were aimed at the wounded man fiercely by as many hideous, grinning rioters.

Uncle ’Zekiel and the household negroes, oblivious and almost unconscious of themselves, as domestic servants of their race always are in the presence of danger for their master or his family, pressed around the reeling white man in a serried ring, and with their sticks and arms, a frail barrier, strove manfully to resist the fierce onslaught of the yelling and leaping plantation negroes. In spite of what Mr Dupuy had just been saying about the negroes being all alike cowards, the petty handful of faithful blacks, forming a close and firm semicircle in front of their wounded master, fought like wild beasts at bay with hands and arms, and legs and teeth, and sticks and elbows, opposing stoutly, by fair means and foul, the ever-pressing sea of wild rioters. As they fought, they kept yielding slowly but cautiously before the steady pressure; and Mr Dupuy, reeling and staggering he knew not how, but with his face kept ever, like a fighting Dupuy, turned dauntlessly toward the surging enemy, retreated slowly backward step by step in the direction of his own piazza. Just as he reached the bottom of the steps, Uncle ’Zekiel meanwhile shielding and protecting him manfully with his portly person, a woman rushed forth from the mass of the rioters, and with hideous shrieks of ‘Hallelujah, hallelujah!’ hacked him once more with her blunt cutlass upon the ribs and body.

Mr Dupuy, faint and feeble from loss of blood, but still cool and collected as ever, groped his way ever backward up the steps, in a blind, reeling, failing fashion, and stood at last at bay in the doorway of the piazza, with his faithful bodyguard, wounded and bleeding freely like himself, still closing resolutely around him.

‘This will do, ’Zekiel,’ he gasped out incoherently, as he reached the top landing. ‘In the pass of the doorway. Stop them easily. Fire rouse the military. Hold the house for half an hour—help from the governor. Quick, quick! give me the pistol.’

Even as he spoke, a small white hand, delicate and bloodless, appearing suddenly from the room behind him, placed his little revolver, cocked and loaded, between the trembling fingers of his left hand, for the right lay already hacked and useless, hanging idly by his side in limp helplessness.

‘Nora, my dear,’ the old man sobbed out in a half-inarticulate gurgling voice, ‘go back—go back this moment to the boudoir. Back garden; slip away quietly—no place for you, Orange Grove, this evening. Slight trouble with the plantation blacks. Quell the rioters.—Close up, ’Zekiel.—Close up, Dick, Thomas, Jo, Robert, Emilius, Mark Antony!’ And with a quivering hand, standing there alone in the narrow doorway, while the mob below swarmed and pressed up the piazza steps in wild confusion, the wounded planter fired the revolver, with no definite aim, blank into the surging midst of the mob, and let his left hand drop as he did so, white and fainting by his side, with his vain endeavour.

The bullet had hit one of the negro women full in the thigh, and it only served still further to madden and enrage the clamouring mob, now frantically thirsty for the buckra blood.

‘Him wounded Hannah—him wounded Hannah!’ the negroes yelled in their buzzing indignation; and at the word, they rushed forward once more with mad gesticulations, those behind pushing those in front against the weak yielding wall of Orange Grove servants, and all menacing horribly with their blood-reddened cutlasses, as they shrieked aloud frantically: ‘Kill him—kill him!’

The servants still held firm with undaunted courage, and rallied bravely round their tottering master; but the onslaught was now far too fierce for them, and one by one they were thrust back helpless by the raging mob, who nevertheless abstained so far as possible from hurting any one of them, aiming all their blows directly at the detested white man himself alone. If by chance at any moment a cutlass came down unintentionally upon the broad backs of the negro defenders, a cry arose at once from the women in the rear of ‘Doan’t hit him—doan’t hit him. Him me brudder. Colour for colour! Kill de buckra! Hallelujah!’

And all this time, Nora Dupuy looked on from behind, holding her bloodless hands clasped downward in mute agony, not so much afraid as expectant, with Aunt Clemmy and the women-servants holding her and comforting her with well-meant negro consolation, under the heavy mahogany arch of the dining-room doorway.

At last, Delgado, standing now on the topmost step, and half within the area of the piazza, aimed one terrible slashing cut at the old planter, as he stood supporting himself feebly by a piece of the woodwork, and hacked him down, a heavy mass, upon the ground before them with a wild African cry of vengeance. The poor old man fell, insensible, in a little pool of his own blood; and the Orange Grove negroes, giving way finally before the irresistible press of their overwhelming opponents, left him there alone, surrounded on every side by the frantic mob of enraged insurgents.

Nora, clasping her hands tighter than ever, and immovable as a statue, stood there still, without uttering a cry or speaking a word—as cold and white and motionless as marble.

‘Hack him to pieces!’ ‘Him doan’t dead yet!’ ‘Him only faintin’!’ ‘Burn him—burn him!’ A chorus of cries rose incoherently from the six hundred lips of the victorious negroes. And as they shouted, they mangled and mutilated the old man’s body with their blunt cutlasses in a way perfectly hideous to look at; the women especially crowding round to do their best at kicking and insulting their fallen enemy.

‘Tank de Lard—tank de Lard!’ Delgado, now drunk with blood, shouted out fiercely to his frenzied followers. ‘We done killed de ole man. Now we gwine to kill de missy!’

JEWEL AND GEM ROGUERIES.

That old saying which tells us there are ‘tricks in all trades,’ would appear from recent exposures and explanations to be almost more applicable to jewellers than to other traders; and if only one half of the misdemeanours with which they are charged be true, they deserve to be placed in the front rank of trade tricksters. There are, however, jewellers and jewellers, and although, happily, as a class they are above suspicion, yet, as our courts of justice occasionally reveal, there are also not a few black-sheep in the flock—men who do not scruple to deal in ‘doublets’ and paste, and who pass off gems and jewels as genuine, that they know to be either altogether false, or to possess some hidden flaw sufficient greatly to lessen their value. Every now and then we find in the newspapers a paragraph or longer article concerning ‘mystery gold,’ ‘forged gems,’ or ‘false jewels.’ Recent examples of this kind of news have appeared to the effect that an important discovery had been made regarding the crown of a foreign potentate, as well as the diamond necklace of a lady of rank, many of the gems in the latter article being made of paste; whilst the diadem of the king is announced to be little better than a theatrical bauble, most of the real stones having been extracted and their places filled with imitation ones. Another announcement of the kind calls attention to the fact of several imitation stones having been found in a jewelled collar hitherto supposed to be of very great value, and which had been sold by an illustrious person in ignorance of the fact.

‘What _is_ paste?’ asked a London magistrate, in the course of his examination into a charge of selling imitation stones for real ones. ‘Paste, sir,’ replied the witness, ‘means a mixture of violin glass and borax;’ from which, as we have been informed, the closest imitations of diamonds and other precious stones can be made (see ‘Artificial Jewels,’ _Chambers’s Journal_, Nov. 15, 1884). Visitors to Paris who have feasted their eyes on the made-up gems so lavishly displayed in the jewellers’ windows of the Rue de la Paix and the Palais-Royal, feel surprised when they are told that four-fifths of the glittering baubles are composed of paste, and are of little value as compared with real gems. It used to be said that most of the jewelry shown in the Palais-Royal was manufactured for use on the stage; but the actresses of to-day, unless obliged to wear paste, will, when they can afford it, adorn their persons with none but real gems. The names of several artists might easily be given who are reputed to be passing rich in diamonds and rubies, and who are possessed besides of pearls of great price. Some actresses, indeed, seem to draw audiences nowadays as much by the aid of their jewels as their talents. When a female star visits the provinces, pains are frequently taken to proclaim the number and value of her gems and jewels. Who, then, wears the paste diamonds and other imitation gems which are manufactured? To this question, an answer of rather a startling kind has more than once been given, and one of the latest may here be noted. A gentleman who was deeply involved in the pursuits of the turf requiring a considerable sum of money to pay his debts of honour, stole his wife’s jewels in order to pawn them. To his consternation, the pawnbroker refused to look at them. ‘Why?’ was feverishly asked. ‘Because they are paste.’—‘Paste! My wife’s jewels paste?’—‘Yes. I supplied her with them. The originals are in my safe; I advanced thirteen hundred pounds upon them.’ Unfortunately, the gentleman’s wife was as great a gambler as her husband, and she had been obliged to pawn her diamonds to meet her own liabilities.

The ingenuity of persons who ‘get up’ precious stones and mock-pearls for ‘the trade’ has been often commented upon and frequently censured. A London lapidary who works in the groove indicated was called upon, a few months ago, in a court of law to explain his mode of procedure. ‘I make all my imitations out of real stones,’ was his reply to the judge. On being asked to be more explicit, he said: ‘Perhaps I possess some pale stones which are of small value: these I split by the aid of my tools; then introducing a deeper tone of colour, I join them together again, having considerably increased their saleable value.’ In this manner the colours of many stones are said to be intensified, such as emeralds, sapphires, amethysts, and others. Diamonds are constantly utilised by being split, each half of a gem perhaps doing duty on a paste foundation on which it has been carefully mounted. A stone which may be of the value of ten pounds having been split at little cost, is carefully mounted, and becomes transformed into two gems, each affirmed to be worth that sum. It requires a clever expert to detect such frauds when they are cleverly executed, or to discover that the ‘fire’ imparted to certain stones that would otherwise be dull of hue and greatly deficient in sparkle, is conferred by so simple an expedient as a backing of tinfoil.

The invention of what are called ‘doublets’ in diamond-dealing can be traced back for centuries. One mode of getting up false stones has been described by Jerome Cardan, who has published in detail the method of the inventor, one Zocolino. This person’s way of working was to procure a thin flake of a very inferior and cheap example of the stone he desired to ‘improve,’ choosing those which had little colour, and might in consequence be procured at a nominal price. As a bottom for his ‘make-up’ he took a bit of crystal which he had shaped to his purpose; covering this with a transparent glue with which he had mixed the necessary colouring material, so as to be like the finest specimen of the gem he intended to forge, he carefully fixed on the flake of stone, and concealed the joining of the two so deftly by careful setting as to make purchasers fancy that his gems were not only genuine, but really finer than those of other jewellers. For a time Zocolino flourished, and was enabled by means of his cunning workmanship to deceive the cleverest lapidaries; but detection came at last, and put an end to his fraudulent practices in gem-making.

It may be mentioned as a warning to travellers that the Singhalese at Colombo are experts in such frauds, and frequently persuade persons to purchase cleverly set up doublets, or pieces of rock-crystal cut and polished. Doublets in many cases, especially when both parts are really diamonds, are somewhat difficult to detect even by men who have had great experience in the gem and jewel trades. Before leaving the diamond, we may mention another kind of fraud connected with it. Often, when these gems have been set in a cluster, it has been found on examination that at least one of the stones is made of paste, or is perhaps a doublet. A rather curious story went the round of the press some years ago, when, on the death of a lady of title, it was found that more than one-third of the family diamonds were composed of false stones. These imitations had been so beautifully executed that none but the cleverest dealers were able to detect them; while in the case of some of the stones, it was not till their specific gravity had been tested that a decision could be arrived at. It has been found on examination, we believe, that necklaces of so-called real diamonds have often contained twenty per cent. of doublets or other stones of questionable quality. Respectable dealers in jewelry maintain that it is the public who are to blame for the production of false jewels, knowing well enough that genuine gems could not be given at the prices offered for them. Retail jewellers are not seldom deceived themselves, not being, perhaps, so well versed in the technical knowledge incidental to their trade as they ought to be. Tradesmen of repute, however, are exceedingly careful in their selection of stock, no gem being offered for sale unless it is known to be genuine.

Many gems are really gems of a kind, although not the gems they are pretended to be, but in all probability are composed of pieces of quartz ‘got up’ for the market, quartz being selected as being able to stand the test of the file, which glass cannot do. There are varieties of topaz and other stones which are as hard as the diamond; and being entirely colourless, they are often cut and polished and successfully palmed off as diamonds. This colourless gem material is costly in consequence of the use to which it can be turned. Recipes for the production of imitation stones have been often given; the following is the formula for a ruby: five hundred parts of strass, twenty of glass of antimony, a half each of purple of Cassius and of gold. Strass is a specially manufactured kind of glass which has been long used in connection with the fabrication of gems; it usually contains a much larger percentage of oxide of lead than the commoner sorts of glass. Aventurine is another kind of gem glass, which is chiefly manufactured in Venice, and brings a high price. The best thing is a quartz of varying shades of colour, which is much prized. One of the scarcer varieties is known as sunstone, and is much sought after, being valuable for such purposes as have been referred to.

Attempts by chemists to produce diamonds have, commercially speaking, usually resulted in failure. The most successful of the early experiments tried in the way of diamond production was that worked out by Gannal, a Frenchman, who in the year 1828 succeeded in producing a substance that was affirmed by a practical jeweller of great repute to be a diamond; but after much controversy, the opinion came to be ultimately entertained that even Gannal had failed. Another famous Frenchman, M. Desprets, made several endeavours in the same direction with partial success; he produced matter at all events with which it was found to be possible to cut and polish the harder gems. A Monsieur de Chaud Courtois has also entered upon various experiments with a view to the production of ‘real’ diamonds, but, so far as we know, without having achieved success. Mr MacTier’s experiments at the St Rollox chemical works in Glasgow have been so recently discussed as not to require farther reference.

The so-called ‘Scottish Jewelry,’ made from cairngorms, cinnamon stone, &c., is largely manufactured in Germany, where most of the stones required are quite plentiful. It is common enough to impose the cairngorm on ignorant purchasers as Brazilian or Mexican topaz. Edinburgh lapidaries are able to prepare and mount the cairngorm and pebbles of Scotland with taste and skill. Crystals of smoky quartz are found in every part of the globe, and can be so skilfully dealt with by lapidaries and experts as to be made deeper or lighter in colour as may be demanded. Each manipulator is of course careful to preserve his particular mode of procedure secret from his fellows; and some of them are very clever in their various manipulations of Scottish stones, which can be set with fine effect in brooches, snuff-mulls, dirks, and powder-horns.

‘Mock-pearls’ are the subject of frequent discussion. The wonderful lustre and exquisite polish of the real gem of the sea have been more than once imitated with almost the power of nature. But there is a something about this beautiful and mysterious production which in the end tells against all attempts at fraud. The imitation when tested with the real gem provides one source of detection, and the brittle nature of the manufactured article is another. Another matter is that the exquisitely drilled holes which are characteristic of the pearls of the East are wanting in all imitations, the drilling in the latter case being usually clumsy and blunt-edged. The scales of a small fish known as the _bleak_ have been successfully used in the formation of false pearls; but as it requires some eighteen thousand of these fish to provide one pound-weight of the pearl-making material, it seems superfluous to say that only a very limited number of gems can be made from the scales of the bleak.

Here we pause, not having space left in which to discuss the ‘manufacture’ of cameos, or the production of that ‘mystery gold’ which two years ago afforded so much material for newspaper discussion. At the present time, when pictures and pottery, old furniture, articles of virtu of all kinds, coins, and even birds’ eggs, are forged, it is not a matter for surprise that spurious diamonds, mock-pearls, and imitations of many of our more precious gems should be foisted on the public by unscrupulous tradespeople. Nevertheless, so long as a lady can purchase for a few pounds a necklace or other adornment which, if genuine, would have cost hundreds or perhaps thousands of pounds, the imitation gem trade will continue to flourish.

A FRIEND OF THE FAMILY.

BY CHARLES GIBBON.