"Say, ye durnationed nigger! whar's yur master?"
"Mass Poindex'er, sar? De ole massr, or de young 'un?"
"Young 'un be durned! I mean Mister Peintdexter. Who else shed I?
Whar air he?"
"Ho--ho! sar! dey am boaf at home--dat is, dey am boaf away from de
house--de ole massr an de young Massr Henry. Dey am down de ribber, wha
de folk am makin' de new fence. Ho! ho! you find 'em dar."
"Down the river! How fur d'ye reck'n?"
"Ho! ho! sar. Dis nigga reck'n it be 'bout tree or four mile--dat at de
berry leas'."
"Three or four mile? Ye must be a durnationed fool, nigger. Mister
Peintdexter's plantation don't go thet fur; an I reck'n he ain't the man
to be makin' a fence on some'dy else's clarin'. Lookee hyur! What time
air he expected hum? Ye've got a straighter idee o' thet, I hope?"
"Dey boaf 'pected home berry soon, de young massr and de ole massr, and
Mass Ca'houn too. Ho! ho! dar's agwine to be big dooin's 'bout dis yar
shanty--yer see dat fo' yeseff by de smell ob de kitchen. Ho! ho! All
sorts o' gran' feassin'--do roas' an de bile, an de barbecue; de
pot-pies, an de chicken fixins. Ho! ho! ain't thar agwine to go it hyar
jess like de ole times on de coass ob de Massippy! Hoora fo' ole Mass
Poindex'er! He de right sort. Ho! ho! 'tranger! why you no holla too:
you no friend ob de massr?"
"Durn you, nigger, don't ye remember me? Now I look into yur ugly mug,
I recollex you."
"Gorramighty! 'tain't Mass 'Tump--'t use to fotch de ven'son an de
turkey gobbla to de ole plantashun? By de jumbo, it am, tho'. Law,
Mass 'Tump, dis nigga 'members you like it wa de day afore yesserday.
Ise heern you called de odder day; but I war away from 'bout de place.
I'm de coachman now--dribes de carriage dat carries de lady ob de
'tablishment--de bewful Missy Loo. Lor, massr, she berry fine gal. Dey
do say she beat Florinday into fits. Nebba mind, Mass 'Tump, you better
wait till ole massr come home. He am _a bound to be hya_, in de
shortess poss'ble time."
"Wal, if thet's so, I'll wait upon him," rejoined the hunter, leisurely
lifting his leg over the saddle--in which up to this time he had
retained his seat. "Now, ole fellur," he added, passing the bridle into
the hands of the negro, "you gi'e the maar half a dozen yeers o' corn
out o' the crib. I've rid the critter better 'n a score o' miles like a
streak o' lightnin'--all to do yur master a sarvice."
"Oh, Mr Zebulon Stump, is it you?" exclaimed a silvery voice, followed
by the appearance of Louise Poindexter upon the verandah.
"I thought it was," continued the young lady, coming up to the railings,
"though I didn't expect to see you so soon. You said you were going
upon a long journey. Well--I am pleased that you are here; and so will
papa and Henry be. Pluto! go instantly to Chloe, the cook, and see what
she can give you for Mr Stump's dinner. You have not dined, I know.
You are dusty--you've been travelling? Here, Morinda! Haste you to the
sideboard, and pour out some drink. Mr Stump will be thirsty, I'm
sure, this hot day. What would you prefer--port, sherry, claret? Ah,
now, if I recollect, you used to be partial to Monongahela whisky. I
think there is some. Morinda, see if there be! Step into the verandah,
dear Mr Stump, and take a seat. You were inquiring for papa? I expect
him home every minute. I shall try to entertain you till he come."
Had the young lady paused sooner in her speech, she would not have
received an immediate reply. Even as it was, some seconds elapsed
before Zeb made rejoinder. He stood gazing upon her, as if struck
speechless by the sheer intensity of his admiration.
"Lord o' marcy, Miss Lewaze!" he at length gasped forth, "I thort when I
used to see you on the Massissippi, ye war the puttiest critter on the
airth; but now, I think ye the puttiest thing eyther on airth or in
hewing. Geehosofat!"
The old hunter's praise was scarce exaggerated. Fresh from the
toilette, the gloss of her luxuriant hair untarnished by the notion of
the atmosphere; her cheeks glowing with a carmine tint, produced by the
application of cold water; her fine figure, gracefully draped in a robe
of India muslin--white and semi-translucent--certainly did Louise
Poindexter appear as pretty as anything upon earth--if not in heaven.
"Geehosofat!" again exclaimed the hunter, following up his complimentary
speech, "I hev in my time seed what I thort war some putty critters o'
the sheemale kind--my ole 'ooman herself warn't so bad-lookin' when I
fast kim acrost her in Kaintuck--thet she warn't. But I will say this,
Miss Lewaze: ef the puttiest bits o' all o' them war clipped out an then
jeined thegither agin, they wudn't make up the thousanth part o' a angel
sech as you."
"Oh--oh--oh! Mr Stump--Mr Stump! I'm astonished to hear _you_ talk
in this manner. Texas has quite turned you into a courtier. If you go
on so, I fear you will lose your character for plain speaking! After
that I am sure you will stand in need of a very big drink. Haste,
Morinda! I think you said you would prefer whisky?"
"Ef I didn't say it, I thunk it; an that air about the same. Yur right,
miss, I prefar the corn afore any o' them thur furrin lickers; an I
sticks to it whuriver I kin git it. Texas hain't made no alterashun in
me in the matter o' lickerin'."
"Mass 'Tump, you it hab mix wif water?" inquired Florinda, coming
forward with a tumbler about one-half full of "Monongahela."
"No, gurl. Durn yur water! I hev hed enuf o' thet since I started this
mornin'. I hain't hed a taste o' licker the hul day--ne'er as much as
the smell o' it."
"Dear Mr Stump! surely you can't drink it that way? Why, it will burn
your throat! Have a little sugar, or honey, along with it?"
"Speil it, miss. It air sweet enuf 'ithout that sort o' docterin';
'specially arter you hev looked inter the glass. Yu'll see ef I can't
drink it. Hyur goes to try!"
The old hunter raised the tumbler to his chin; and after giving three
gulps, and the fraction of a fourth, returned it empty into the hands of
Florinda. A loud smacking of the lips almost drowned the simultaneous
exclamations of astonishment uttered by the young lady and her maid.
"Burn my throat, ye say? Ne'er a bit. It hez jest eiled thet ere
jugewlar, an put it in order for a bit o' a palaver I wants to hev wi'
yur father--'bout thet ere spotty mow-stang."
"Oh, true! I had forgotten. No, I hadn't either; but I did not suppose
you had time to have news of it. Have you heard anything of the pretty
creature?"
"Putty critter ye may well pernounce it. It ur all o' thet. Besides,
it ur a maar."
"A ma-a-r! What is that, Mr Stump? I don't understand."
"A maar I sayed. Shurly ye know what a maar is?"
"Ma-a-r--ma-a-r! Why, no, not exactly. Is it a Mexican word? _Mar_ in
Spanish signifies the sea."
"In coorse it air a Mexikin maar--all mowstangs air. They air all on
'em o' a breed as wur oncest brought over from some European country by
the fust o' them as settled in these hyur parts--leesewise I hev heern
so."
"Still, Mr Stump, I do not comprehend you. What makes this mustang a
ma-a-r?"
"What makes her a _maar_? 'Case she ain't a _hoss_; thet's what make
it, Miss Peintdexter."
"Oh--now--I--I think I comprehend. But did you say you have heard of
the animal--I mean since you left us?"
"Heern o' her, seed her, an feeled her."
"Indeed!"
"She air grupped."
"Ah, caught! what capital news! I shall be so delighted to see the
beautiful thing; and ride it too. I haven't had a horse worth a piece
of orange-peel since I've been in Texas. Papa has promised to purchase
this one for me at any price. But who is the lucky individual who
accomplished the capture?"
"Ye mean who grupped the maar?"
"Yes--yes--who?"
"Why, in coorse it wur a mowstanger."
"A mustanger?"
"Ye-es--an such a one as thur ain't another on all these purayras--
eyther to ride a hoss, or throw a laryitt over one. Yo may talk about
yur Mexikins! I never seed neery Mexikin ked manage hoss-doin's like
that young fellur; an thur ain't a drop o' thur pisen blood in his
veins. He ur es white es I am myself."
"His name?"
"Wal, es to the name o' his family, that I niver heern. His Christyun
name air Maurice. He's knowed up thur 'bout the Fort as Maurice the
mowstanger."
The old hunter was not sufficiently observant to take note of the tone
of eager interest in which the question had been asked, nor the sudden
deepening of colour upon the cheeks of the questioner as she heard the
answer.
Neither had escaped the observation of Florinda.
"La, Miss Looey!" exclaimed the latter, "shoo dat de name ob de brave
young white gen'l'm--he dat us save from being smodered on de brack
prairee?"
"Geehosofat, yes!" resumed the hunter, relieving the young lady from the
necessity of making reply. "Now I think o't, he told me o' thet
suckumstance this very mornin', afore we started. He air the same.
Thet's the very fellur es hev trapped spotty; an he air toatin' the
critter along at this eyedentical minnit, in kump'ny wi' about a dozen
others o' the same cavyurd. He oughter be hyur afore sundown. I pushed
my ole maar ahead, so 's to tell yur father the spotty war comin', and
let him git the fust chance o' buyin'. I know'd as how thet ere bit o'
hosdoin's don't get druv fur into the Settlements efore someb'dy snaps
her up. I thort o' _you_, Miss Lewaze, and how ye tuk on so when I tolt
ye 'bout the critter. Wal, make yur mind eezy; ye shell hev the fast
chance. Ole Zeb Stump 'll be yur bail for thet."
"Oh, Mr Stump, it is so kind of you! I am very, very grateful. You
will now excuse me for a moment. Father will soon be back. We have a
dinner-party to-day; and I have to prepare for receiving a great many
people. Florinda, see that Mr Stump's luncheon is set out for him.
Go, girl--go at once about it!"
"And, Mr Stump," continued the young lady, drawing nearer to the
hunter, and speaking in a more subdued tone of voice, "if the young--
young gentleman should arrive while the other people are here--perhaps
he don't know them--will you see that he is not neglected? There is
wine yonder, in the verandah, and other things. You know what I mean,
dear Mr Stump?"
"Durned if I do, Miss Lewaze; that air, not adzackly. I kin unnerstan'
all thet ere 'bout the licker' an other fixins. But who air the young
gen'leman yur speakin' o'? Thet's the thing as bamboozles me."
"Surely you know who I mean! The young gentleman--the young man--who,
you say, is bringing in the horses."
"Oh! ah! Maurice the mowstanger! That's it, is it? Wal, I reck'n yur
not a hundred mile astray in calling _him_ a gen'leman; tho' it ain't
offen es a mowstanger gits thet entitlement, or desarves it eyther. _He
air one_, every inch o' him--a gen'leman by barth, breed, an raisin'--
tho' he air a hoss-hunter, an Irish at thet."
The eyes of Louise Poindexter sparkled with delight as she listened to
opinions so perfectly in unison with her own.
"I must tell ye, howsomdiver," continued the hunter, as some doubt had
come across his mind, "it won't do to show that 'ere young fellur any
sort o' second-hand hospertality. As they used to say on the
Massissippi, he air `as proud as a Peintdexter.' Excuse me, Miss
Lewaze, for lettin' the word slip. I did think o't thet I war talkin'
to a Peintdexter--not the proudest, but the puttiest o' the name."
"Oh, Mr Stump! you can say what you please to me. You know that I
could not be offended with you, you dear old giant!"
"He'd be meaner than a dwurf es ked eyther say or do anythin' to offend
you, miss."
"Thanks! thanks! I know your honest heart--I know your devotion.
Perhaps some time--some time, Mr Stump,"--she spoke hesitatingly, but
apparently without any definite meaning--"I might stand in need of your
friendship."
"Ye won't need it long afore ye git it, then; thet ole Zeb Stump kin
promise ye, Miss Peintdexter. He'd be stinkiner than a skunk, an a
bigger coward than a coyoat, es wouldn't stan' by sech as you, while
there wur a bottle-full o' breath left in the inside o' his body."
"A thousand thanks--again and again! But what were you going to say?
You spoke of second-hand hospitality?"
"I dud."
"You meant--?"
"I meaned thet it 'ud be no use o' my inviting Maurice the mowstanger
eyther to eat or drink unner this hyur roof. Unless yur father do that,
the young fellur 'll go 'ithout tastin'. You unnerstan, Miss Lewaze, he
ain't one o' thet sort o' poor whites as kin be sent roun' to the
kitchen."
The young Creole stood for a second or two, without making rejoinder.
She appeared to be occupied with some abstruse calculation, that
engrossed the whole of her thoughts.
"Never mind about it," she at length said, in a tone that told the
calculation completed. "Never mind, Mr Stump. You need not invite
him. Only let _me_ know when he arrives--unless we be at dinner, and
then, of course, he would not expect any one to appear. But if he
_should_ come at that time, _you_ detain him--won't you?"
"Boun' to do it, ef you bid me."
"You will, then; and let me know he is here. _I_ shall ask him to eat."
"Ef ye do, miss, I reck'n ye'll speil his appetite. The sight o' you,
to say nothin' o' listenin' to your melodyus voice, ud cure a starvin'
wolf o' bein' hungry. When I kim in hyur I war peckish enuf to swaller
a raw buzzart. Neow I don't care a durn about eatin'. I ked go 'ithout
chawin' meat for month."
As this exaggerated chapter of euphemism was responded to by a peal of
clear ringing laughter, the young lady pointed to the other side of the
patio; where her maid was seer emerging from the "cocina," carrying a
light tray--followed by Pluto with one of broader dimensions, more
heavily weighted.
"You great giant!" was the reply, given in a tone of sham reproach; "I
won't believe you have lost your appetite, until you have eaten Jack.
Yonder come Pluto and Morinda. They bring something that will prove
more cheerful company than I; so I shall leave you to enjoy it. Good
bye, Zeb--good bye, or, as the natives say here, _hasta luego_!"
Gaily were these words spoken--lightly did Louise Poindexter trip back
across the covered corridor. Only after entering her chamber, and
finding herself _chez soi-meme_, did she give way to a reflection of a
more serious character, that found expression in words low murmured, but
full of mystic meaning:--
"It is my destiny: I feel--I know that it is! I dare not meet, and yet
I cannot shun it--I may not--I would not--I _will not_!"