"Peggin' away, all hands, eh? I never heard such a swishing of
handsaws and banging of hammers; you make more noise than ten navy
yards. How you getting along?"
"Not so briskly as I could wish; we are under contract to finish
fifteen of these large batteaux, besides a sixty-foot keelboat by
December."
"Sassyfax! Fifteen? What for?"
"To carry colonists down the Mississippi to the Wachita lands. The big
keelboat is to transport provisions."
"You don't say! Now, how many men will them fifteen boats accommodate,
when they're done? 'Bout thirty to a boat?"
"Yes; thirty or forty; we calculate the whole fleet will carry five
hundred men."
"Five hundred! I'll swan! Do you think they'll ever drum up five
hundred lunatics for such an expedition?"
"You'll have to ask Mr. Blennerhassett about that. My business is to
build the boats, not to man them."
"Right you are, mister; every man ought to mind his own business, and
I'll bet a pewter toothpick you understand flatboats, even if you
don't know anything else. I will speak to my friend Mr. B. in regard
to _his_ end of the business, for I see him coming. That's him walking
this way along the shore; you can know Harman a mile off by his stoop.
'Fore I go, I'll take a squint at the extra-fine ark they tell me you
are fixing up for the family--I mean Blennerhassett's own folks.
Blame my buttons, if I don't always hate to pronounce that larruping
long name Blennerhassett! Byle is a heap shorter and better name. I
s'pose you reco'nize me, don't you? I'm pretty well known in these
parts. Plutarch is my Christian name. Did you ever read Plutarch's
Lives? I didn't write 'em, but I'm living one of 'em. I ought to know
you, you're dadblamed face is familiar, but bejiggered if I haven't
let your last name slip my mind."
The ship-carpenter, to whom these questions and comments were
addressed, had resumed his work, not paying any attention to Mr. Byle,
who, finding his words unheeded, gave no sign of discomfiture, and
went on talking to himself in the friendliest manner.
"Here we are, five miles above the mouth of Muskingum, making batteaux
to go five million miles south of the jumping-off place of creation!
Will I go with you, friends and fellow-citizens? No, not by a jugful.
Do you think Byle is a plumb fool? I wouldn't mind going on a voyage
with the madam and the young ones, but not with such an addle-pate as
the near-sighted. Nor with Colonel Hoop Snake! No, there's no use
arguing; I tell you once for all, I won't go. I'd no more trust in him
than I'd trust _you_, old Muskingum, not to undermine your banks at
Spring flood. A felon who would murder Alexander Hamilton--what crime
wouldn't he commit? I'm consarned sorry for the family over on the
island; ain't you, neighbor? Yes, you; I ask you, Mr. Jay Bird,
singing and chattering to yourself on the willows. How are you?"
"Pretty well, I thank you," replied a stoop-shouldered pedestrian,
who, drawing near, had recognized the voice without distinctly seeing
the person of Byle. "How are _you_?"
"I was talking to that other jay, Mr. B. But I'd ruther talk to you.
I'm hearty. How's all your kith an' kin? I thought of coming down to
the island, to see you, but now you're here, I'll put off the trip a
week or so. Jist say to the boys I'm making a crossgun for 'em. Give
my regards to your better half, and I wish you'd tell Scipio that the
melon he sent me was luscious. I'm here on a kind o' important
business; came clear up from town to inquire about this expedition.
You're managing the colony matters, and you're the codger to give me
the real facts."
Blennerhassett, who had undertaken to use every means in his power to
induce men to join the proposed colony, suffered Byle's fraternal
confidences with as good a grace as possible, hoping to enlist a
useful factotum.
"I will gladly give any information you desire in regard to the
Wachita settlement, and our plans for the winter."
"I knowed you would. I told what-ye-call-him--the boss carpenter so.
He allowed I'd best ask you for the particulars, and it's fair to you
that I should. You pay for all this lumber and hammering and sawing,
out of your own pocket; you have a right to answer questions. How much
is the whole caboodle going to cost you?"
"Perhaps that question is not pertinent to our present interview. I
presume you wish to learn the conditions of our agreement with
volunteers?"
"That's so; you don't presume a speck; I wish to learn all about
everything. What are the conditions?"
"We pledge ourselves to pay every man who goes with us fair wages, and
to give every one a hundred acres of the Bastrop land. Each man is to
provide himself with a blanket, a good rifle and a supply of
ammunition."
"What do you want with rifles? Do you expect to have to fight?"
"Not necessarily; all pioneers need guns. Did not the forty men who
settled Marietta bring rifles and ammunition?"
"I swow you've got me, Mr. B. No man can keep house without a gun, I
admit that. I'd as soon go without my head. I've got a gun, all right,
and a blanket. What else?"
"That is all. Be ready on the first of December with your blanket and
rifle, and we'll provide for your other wants."
"Well, that looks fair. But let me give you a bit of advice before you
start. Don't you go at all. As sure as my name is Byle, you'll be
sorry for yourself and Maggy, as you call her, if you do go. You
mustn't git mad at me, Harman, for speaking out plain. I'm friendly to
you and your folks; don't like to see you put upon; and I consider it
my goshdurned duty to tell you that this here Colonel Beelzebub is
making a cussed fool of you. I'd have no hobnobbing with a hoop snake.
Don't trust ary shape of a sarpent in your apple-tree. You know your
eyes are not as long-ranged as some. This is God's truth with the bark
off. He don't talk to Adam in the Garden in our days, but I sh'd think
you'd hear what mortal men are saying. You're a readin' man--haven't
you come across what the press wrote about that scorpion in your
bozom?
'Oh, Aaron Burr, what have you done?
You've shot our General Hamilton!
You stood behind a bunch of thistles,
And murdered him with two horse-pistols!'
Excuse my interest in you; a full kittle will bile over. I've lots and
slithers of United States information that ain't to be found in your
green emerald Erin, no more than snakes is."
Blennerhassett was in doubt whether to consider himself insulted or
befriended. He had misgivings concerning Burr and the colony. Common
sense told him that Byle might be more than half right.
"Do you know anything of the far West?" he asked. "Report gives out
that it is a marvellous region."
Byle had a spice of mischief in his composition. He could not resist a
humorous impulse to gull a credulous foreigner.
"Maybe I can give you some curious facts not generally known. I'm a
sort of bookworm myself. I've nosed the Coon Skin Library. Did anybody
ever tell you of the Missouri salt mountain? a mountain of real salt
one hundred and eighty miles long, and forty-five broad, white as
snow, and glittering in the sun? No vegetation grows near it, but a
river of brine runs from its base. I have a chunk of the salt."
"Wonderful, wonderful!" ejaculated Blennerhassett.
"Isn't it wonderful? But not so contrary to nature as the
shoe-and-stocking trees that grow at the headwaters of this Muskingum
River."
"That seems impossible--shoe-and-stocking trees, did you say?"
"It does sound improbable, I admit, but seeing is believing. I've
pulled half-grown shoes off one of those trees with these hands. I
don't expect you to take my word. I didn't believe the story myself at
first, and can't bring my mind to believe what my own brother Virgil
told me he had seen and tasted--the Whiskey Lake in Southern
Kentucky."
Gullible as he was, Blennerhassett looked incredulous. Byle's
expression was serious to solemnity. His big blue eyes vouched for his
perfect sanity.
"Now, I _must_ go," said he, turning away; "I've a heap of things to
do and folks to see before sunset. Good-bye."
Genuine kindness had prompted Plutarch to blurt out unsought counsel,
and he hurried away, congratulating himself on having discharged an
obligation to his conscience. His long, swinging strides propelled him
to Marietta in half an hour. Near the court-house he met a gentleman,
whom he accosted, taking him cordially by the hand and inquiring,
"Isn't this Squire George Hale?"
"George Hale is my name," returned the gentleman, reservedly, and
disengaging his fingers from the strong grip of the tall man.
"Yes, you are the individual I took you to be, and no mistake. I
seldom forget faces, though I get names crooked now and then. Your
name and your corporosity go together; you look hale and hearty! I
never was picked up but once, in shaking hands with a stranger, but
that once was enough. Before I knew what I was about I shook hands,
last May was a year ago, with--I vow I'm ashamed to tell you who
with. Are you going home, Mr. Hale? Is Miss Evaleen in town now? The
first time I met your daughter she was down at Blennerhassett's! The
last time was here in Marietta, out by the big mound. Is she as well
as usual?"
Mr. Hale stared in blank bewilderment. He first surmised that an
escaped lunatic was face to face with him. Yet there was coherence in
the strange man's speech, and nothing wild in his looks. In fact, Mr.
Hale had frequently seen the gaunt, gigantic figure of Plutarch
dodging about the town, and had heard his name spoken as that of a
very eccentric person. Like everybody else who was brought within
speaking distance of the oddity, the sedate New Englander was at a
loss how to behave toward him. Plutarch was never at a loss. Detecting
a hair lodged on the squire's shoulder, he picked it off, and winked.
"A pretty long hair, old man, to be found on your collar. I hope it
came from one of your own women-folks. What's the last word from
Captain Danvers? When is that knot to be tied, anyhow? If you'll give
me an invite, I'll be there, sure. I told young Burlington--no, I
mean Arlington--all the facts just as they are."
"You did? What facts? Who is Arlington?"
"Don't you know Arlington, Squire Hale? Is it possible? Well, well,
well! Now that explains a good deal. These young folks are as sly as a
gallinipper. You have to keep your eye skinned to see all that goes
on, by land and river, and especially on islands. There's not a bit of
criticism to be made on Evaleen's conduct, nor on Arlington's. He
couldn't help himself, no more than a fly in a honey-pot. The minute
he saw your gal, he fell slap dab in love with her. The poor feller
was nigh about dead for love the day we sot on the summit."
"What rigmarole is this? You sot on the summit? Arlington? My
daughter? Tell me simply and briefly what you mean."
"I mean briefly and simply, Mr. Chester Arlington, of Virginia, came
here to spark Evaleen; he as good as told me so; that is, I am
satisfied he did; it stands to reason and the nature of a gentleman!
Secondly, I told him it was no go. I said to Chester, 'You must hunt
up another sweetheart, for Leeny Hale is engaged. She is going to be
married,' says I, 'to Captain Warren P. Danvers.'"
"You told this Mr. Arlington that my daughter was engaged to marry
Captain Danvers?"
"Yes; that's what I told him. Isn't that so? Of course, she couldn't
marry 'em both at once, and I wanted to put Chester out of misery.
That's why I broke it to him. You may tell the betrothed, as you call
it, I mean your daughter, as much or as little as you please; but if
that young woman had saw how that young man looked when I told him he
couldn't have her, I do believe she might have shook Danvers and took
Arlington. That's what I had to say to you, Squire Hale, and now I've
said it, I feel easier. I must be going. Mighty fine weather, this!
Good-bye! Gals will fool their daddies."
Away went Byle, about everybody's business, and home hastened George
Hale, not so much to tell Evaleen what he had heard concerning
herself, as to learn from her the solution of the mystery of
Arlington, Danvers and "the summit."
Day after day, and week after week, the shipwrights plied their tasks
with saw and hammer, with adz and mallet, constructing the vessels to
convey men and goods down the river in the Winter. A large purchase of
provisions, ham, bacon, flour, whiskey, was made in advance, and
various accoutrements were secretly collected in anticipation of
Burr's enterprise.
New gods had been set up in the sequestered home of the
Blennerhassetts. The Lares and Penates there honored were not now the
images of Emmett and Agnew, not the names of dead ancestors, but the
living spirit and example of Napoleon and the magic word Empire. No
longer could the harpsichord charm or the strings of the viol allure.
The music-books gathered dust in the alcove, and the "Iliad" stood
unopened on the shelf. Instead of rambling in the woods, or strolling
on the banks of the Ohio, or galloping to Marietta clad in a crimson
cloak, or giving banquets or balls to entertain the admiring gentry of
Belpre, Madam Blennerhassett spent busy days and anxious nights
working and planning for a potential greatness, a prospective high
emprise. A change had come over the spirit of her dream. She had
ceased to feel an interest in domestic duties and pleasures; she
neglected the simple cares of the plantation, took no satisfaction in
binding up the bruises of her slaves, or curing their ailments with
medicine and kindness; the talk of Peter Taylor about flowers and
fruit, or of Thomas Neal, concerning pet heifers, and new milk and
butter and cheese, became tedious; the jokes and laughter of the
farm-hands and dairymaids she heard with irritation; nor could the
prattle and play of her romping boys divert her mind from the one
absorbing theme--the descent of the Mississippi, the conquest of
Mexico, the creation of a New World. In close daily communion with
Theodosia, she dwelt not in a white frame house on a woody island of
the Ohio River, not in the present; but in the future, and in a marble
palace in the splendid domain of Aaron I. The two enthusiastic women,
allied in a common cause, inspired alike by the experience of wifehood
and maternity, similarly ambitious, passionate and imaginative,
reciprocated each other's sentiments and strengthened each other's
resolution.
The summer flew away. In October, Governor Alston visited the island.
Many consultations were held in the gilded parlor and in the hushed
library; more plans were divulged, more pledges given--and Burr
departed never again to cross the threshold of the house on the
island. Theodosia and her husband and child went to Lexington,
Kentucky, whither they were accompanied by Blennerhassett.
Left alone in the great ghost-white house, its mistress wandered from
room to room, restless and melancholy. The boys were at play on the
lawn; she could hear their mirthful shouts. She felt a vague longing,
like homesickness, and yet she was at home. Wearily she sat down in
her husband's study chair in the quiet library. She glanced round at
the books, the apparatus, the musical instruments. Everything
presented an unnatural aspect. Startled by the snapping of a string on
the untouched violincello, she uttered an involuntary exclamation,
rose, and went up close to the portrait of her husband. But owing to
the dimness of the light or the sadness of her mood, the features,
instead of smiling, seemed to regard her with a mournful gaze. A sense
of desolation overwhelmed her. Endeavoring once more to fly from
herself, she called her children. They came, and she kissed them,
putting an arm around each.
"Dominick, do you want to go away, away to Mexico, and become rich and
great?"
"No, no, mamma; I want to live here forever with you and papa."
"We both do," iterated Harman. "We both do."
"Colonel Burr will be there to take care of us all. He saved your
life, Harman, and he loves you, I am sure."
"Mamma, he loves _you_, but he don't love papa."
The mother blushed, and a big tear rolled down her cheek.