A brilliant morning found our collegians refreshed in health and elastic
in spirits. The more gloomy fancies of the previous night, which had
beset Chevillere both in his waking and sleeping hours--like the mists
of the morning, had been dispelled by the bright sunshine, and the
refreshing breezes of the bay. After the usual meal had been some time
despatched; and while Chevillere was leisurely turning over the papers
of the day (Lamar having departed in pursuit of the Kentuckian) he was
surprised by the entrance of Mr. Brumley (the austere gentleman), who
saluted him with the most friendly greetings of the hour and season, and
concluded by inviting him into their private parlour. It may be readily
imagined that this invitation was not tardily complied with, for he now
imagined that the whole history of the lady would be unravelled by a
single word--so sanguine is youthful hope, and so apt are we, at that
interesting period, to jump to those conclusions which are desirable,
without ever considering the previous steps, and painful delays, and
necessary forms, and conventional usages which inevitably intervene
between our highest hopes and their fruition. How often would the ardent
wishes and the bold hands of youth seize upon futurity, despoiling it
of the thin veil which separates us from what we wish to know,
especially when this could be learned by dispensing with the accustomed
formalities and wholesome restraints of refined society. A train of
kindred thoughts was passing through the mind of Chevillere as he was
ushered into a small but elegant saloon, connected with the back
chambers by folding-doors, which were now closed. On the left of the
door, and between the windows opening upon a great thoroughfare, sat the
lady who occupied his thoughts. She was sitting, or rather reclining
upon one end of a sofa, her head resting upon her hand in a thoughtful
mood. As is true of most daughters of this favoured land, nature had
evidently in nowise been thwarted, either in her mental or physical
education. She appeared to possess that naivete which is so apt to be
the result of a mixed town, and country education; with just enough of
self-possession to show that native modesty had been properly regulated
by much good society, but not too much to forbid an occasional
crimsoning of the neck and face. Her eyes were blue, shaded by long dark
lashes, and so sparkling and joyous in their expression, that the
evident present sorrow which hung over her spirits, could not efface the
impression to a beholder, that they were naturally much more inclined to
beam with mirth and gayety, than to weeping; her features were
regular--arch in their expression, and finely formed--her complexion of
the finest shade--with a rich profusion of light brown hair, braided
and parted on the forehead without a single curl; her figure was just
tall enough to be elegant and graceful, and exhibited the graces of that
interesting period, when the school-girl is merging into the reserved
woman.
As Chevillere was ushered into the presence of this youthful lady, the
old gentleman presented him as Mr. Chevillere, of South Carolina, and
the lady by the name of (his step-daughter) Frances St. Clair; she
assumed the erect position barely long enough to return the salutation
of the gentleman, then reclined again and lapsed apparently into her sad
mood; for a moment she pressed her handkerchief to her face as if she
would drive away some horrible image, and then waited a moment as if she
expected her father to speak upon some previously settled subject.
Perceiving, however, that she waited in vain, she with some difficulty
forced herself to say, "Mr. Chevillere, I requested my father to invite
you to our apartments to"--here she seemed overpowered and stopped.
Chevillere seeing her distress, replied, "Madam, you do me too much
honour; but I see you are distressed--let me say then, without any
farther formality, that if there is any way in the world by which I can
lighten that distress, command me."
"It is about these very emotions that I would speak," she answered; "I
was afraid you might think the scene at the breakfast-table two days
since was got up in some silly girlish affectation, in pretended disgust
at the rudeness of the young men present; but believe me when I say,
their conduct would at many times in my life have furnished me with an
ample fund for laughter; it was not in their manners, it was in the
subject of one of their discourses that I felt so much affected--I tried
to subdue my feelings, but the more I tried the more they overcame me;
the truth is, some painful recollections were awakened"--Here again she
covered her face with her handkerchief, and seemed to be for a moment
almost suffocated. The lady resumed; "Nor should I have thought it
proper to offer this explanation to one who is apparently a perfect
stranger; but, sir, I have known you for some time by reputation."
"Indeed, madam, I must be indebted to some most flattering mistake for
my present good fortune; I am but just emancipated from college walls
and rules, and have, of course, even a reputation to make for myself."
"No! no!" said the youthful lady (a beautiful smile passing swiftly over
her sad countenance), "there can be no mistake about it," and drawing
from her work-bag a small bit of paper, rolled up in the shape of a
letter, she presented it to him; adding, "Do you know that
hand-writing?"
He gazed upon the signature for an instant, and then exclaimed, "My
honoured mother's! by all that's fortunate! then indeed we are old
acquaintances--with your permission; and I am perfectly content with the
reputation which you spoke of, when I know that it originated in such a
source."
"Your mother was indeed a prudent and a modest, but still a devoted
herald of your good qualities."
"Believe me, dear lady, that I shall be more proud than ever to appear
in your eyes to deserve some small share of her maternal praise; it was
always inexpressibly dear to me for its own sake, but now I shall
endeavour doubly to deserve it. You saw her, I suppose, at the White
Sulphur Springs?"
"We did, sir; and a most fortunate circumstance it was for me; for being
an invalid, she did every thing for me that my own mother could have
done. Oh! how I regretted that my mother did not come, merely to have
made her acquaintance."
"Your mother! is your mother alive, madam?"
"I hope and trust she is--and well; she was both when we last heard from
her, and that was but a few days since; but your agitation alarms me!
you know no bad news of my mother?" laying her hand upon his arm.
"None, madam! none. I don't know what put the foolish idea into my head,
but I thought that both your own parents were dead."
"You alarmed me," said she. "I conjured up every dreadful image--I
imagined that you had been commissioned by some of our friends here, to
break the painful intelligence to me--but you are sure she is well?"
Chevillere smiled, as he answered "You forget that I am a total stranger
to her, and she to me."
"True! true! But tell me how you left your charming young cousin
Virginia Bell, of whom I heard your mother speak so often. She told me,
I think, that she was at some celebrated school in North Carolina?"
"At Salem. She is well, I thank you, or was well when I came through the
town: my mother intends to take her home with her on her return."
"So she told me," said the lady.
"She did not tell you, I suppose, for I believe she does not know, that
I have promised the hand of the dear girl in marriage, though she is
scarcely sixteen yet. You must know that I had in college two dear and
beloved friends--the one, Mr. Lamar, you have seen; the other is Mr.
Beverley Randolph, of Virginia--we were both class and room-mates.
Randolph has gone on a journey through the Southern States, as he
pretends; but, I believe, in truth, to take a sly peep at his affianced
bride. If he likes her looks, it is a bargain; and if not, he will pass
it all off for a college joke." Here he was interrupted by the lady
gasping; and on looking in her face, he found she was as pale as marble,
and terribly agitated. She asked her father for water, which he handed
to her instantly, while Chevillere rang violently at the bell.
"It will all be over in a minute," said she; "it is only a return of the
suffering to which I am subject."
Many strange ideas flitted through Chevillere's mind during this
interruption of the conversation. He now recollected that one of the
subjects of discourse between the vulgar fops, at the breakfast-table
the previous morning, had been some runaway marriage--and "the fearful
marriage and more fearful death" still sounded in his ears, and now the
same subject again introduced by himself produced like consequences,--he
thought it strange and incomprehensible; he cheered himself, however,
with the reflection, that his mother was not likely to form an intimacy
with persons against whom there was any charge of crime; nay, more, he
felt assured that they must have been well sustained by public opinion,
or introduced to her acquaintance by some judicious friend.
"If I have unaptly said any thing offensive, I hope Miss St. Clair will
believe me, when I say that such a design was the farthest from my
thoughts."
"Rest easy on that score," said she; "I am now well again: you said
nothing that it was not proper for you to say, and me to hear, had I not
been a poor silly-headed girl."
"Well, Miss Frances, I am anxious to hear your opinion of Western
Virginia."
"My opinion is not worth having; but such as it is, you are welcome to
it, or rather to such observations as a lady might make. First, then, I
was delighted with the wild mountain scenery, and the beautiful valleys
between the mountains; such are those, you will recollect, perhaps, in
which all of those springs are situated. I doubt very much, whether
Switzerland, or Spain, could present as many rich and beautiful
mountain-scenes, as we have passed between Lexington and the White
Sulphur and Salt Sulphur springs. We have similar scenes along and among
the highlands of the Hudson, it is true; perhaps they are more grand and
majestic than these; but then, there is such a stir of busy life, such
an atmosphere of steam, and clouds of canvass, that one is perpetually
called back in spirit to the stir and bustle of a city life. But here,
among the rugged blue mountains of 'old Virginia,' as these people love
to call it, there are the silence and the solitude of nature, which more
befit such contemplations as the scenes induce. We can seat ourselves in
one of the green forests of the mountains we have just left, and imagine
ours to be the first human footsteps, which have ever been imprinted
upon the soil; and we can repose amid the shades and the profound and
solemn silence of those scenes, with a calmness and a serenity, and a
soothing, delightful, melancholy feeling, which no other objects can
produce. The very atmosphere seems teeming with these delightful
impressions; primitive nature seems to have returned upon us with all
its balmy delights,--quiet and peacefulness. The profound solitude would
become tiresome, perhaps, to those who have no resources in unison with
such scenes, or to those who admire and feign to revel in them, because
it is fashionable just now to do so. But to an educated mind, a natural
and feeling, and I may say devout heart, they furnish inexhaustible
food for contemplation, and ever-renewing sources of delight and
improvement."
"They are such scenes," replied Chevillere, "as I love to dwell upon,
even in imagination. But come, Miss Frances, I see by the hat and mantle
upon the table, that I have interrupted some intended promenade; shall I
have the honour to be of your party?"
"Unquestionably, young gentleman--you may take the whole journey off my
hands; Frances was only going out among the shops," said Mr. Brumley.
The plain, but tasteful apparel was soon adjusted, and the youthful pair
sallied forth upon the promised expedition.
The tide of human life seems to be ever rolling and tossing, and ever
renewing, and then rolling on again. Pestilence, and death, and famine
may do their worst, but the tide is still renewed, and still moves on to
the great sea of eternity.
Who that walks through the busy and thronged streets of a populous city,
and sees the gay plumage, the fantastic finery, the smiling faces, and
the splendid equipages, could ever form an adequate idea of the real
suffering and wo, which constitute the sum of one day's pains in a city
life? If all the miserable--the lame, the blind, the poor, the dumb, the
aged, and the diseased, could be poured out along one side of the gay
promenades, while fashionables were parading along the other, a much
truer picture of life in a city would be seen. Such were the ideas of
Victor Chevillere, as he escorted his timid and youthful companion
through the gay throng from shop to shop.
As they emerged into a part of the city less thronged, interchange of
opinions became more practicable.
"I am impatient to hear your opinion of the Southerns," said Chevillere;
"you had the finest opportunity imaginable to see our southern
aristocrats at the springs."
"Oh! I was delighted with the little society in which I moved there,"
replied she; "and, but for one unhappy, and most untoward circumstance
for me, my enjoyments would have far surpassed any thing which I had
ever laid out for myself again in this world."
"You excite my curiosity most strangely," said he; "and, if it would not
appear impertinent or intrusive, I should like to know two things:
first, what untoward circumstance you speak of? and next, what great bar
has been placed between you and happiness, that you should have laid off
so small a share for yourself in all time to come?"
"Oh! sir, your questions are painful to me, even to think of; how much
worse then must have been the reality of those circumstances, which
could poison the small share of happiness which is allotted to us under
the most favourable circumstances. I would gratify your curiosity if I
could, but indeed, indeed, sir, I cannot now relate to you the whole
history of my life; and nothing less could explain to you the cruel
train of circumstances by which I am surrounded, and from which there is
no escape."
"One question you can, and I am sure you will, answer me.
"Could a devoted friend, with a cool head and a resolute hand, effect
nothing in freeing you from this persecution?"
"I will answer you, sir, most plainly. You misunderstand my allusions,
in the first place; for I am not persecuted now, nor can I say that I
have been. It may seem enigmatical to you, but it is all that I can in
prudence say. There is no person on this side of the grave who can
relieve me from the cause of those emotions which you have unhappily
witnessed; nay, more! if those persons were to rise from the dead, who
were, unfortunately for themselves and for me, the cause of my painful
situation, my condition would be incomparably worse than it is now."
"Painful, indeed, must those circumstances be, and incomprehensible to
me, which seem to have been produced by the death of some one; and yet,
if that person should rise from the dead, you would be more miserable
than ever," said Chevillere.
During the latter part of this speech, the lady, as was often her
custom, pressed her handkerchief to her face, as if she would by
mechanical pressure drive off disagreeable images from the mind; and
then said, "Now, sir, let us drop this subject."
"One more question, and then I have done; and believe me, it is not idly
asked. Were the circumstances you spoke of developed so recently as your
visit to the Virginia springs?"
"Oh! by no means, sir; the untoward circumstance there that I spoke of,
was the frequent and unexpected presence of one who forcibly reminded me
of all the painful particulars; and what made it so much worse was, that
wherever I moved, he moved; he followed the same route round the
watering-places, and seemed purposely to throw himself in my way; and
even now I dread every moment to encounter him; and the more so, as I
have heard lately that his mind is unsettled. Poor gentleman, I pity
him."
By this time they had arrived in a part of the city from which
Washington's monument could be seen, elevating its majestic column above
a magnificent grove of trees.
"Suppose we extend our walk," said the gentleman, "to yonder beautiful
grove."
To this the lady readily assented. They found rude seats, constructed
perhaps by some romantic swain; or by some country-bred youths, who came
there, after the toils of the day, to refresh themselves with the pure
and invigorating breezes which sweep the green, fresh from their dear
and longed-for homes. Here they seated themselves, to enjoy this
delightful mixture of town and country.
"This is a noble monument to the great and good father of our Republic;
and worthy of the high-minded and public-spirited people of Baltimore,"
said Chevillere. "Give me such evidence as this of their veneration for
his memory, and none of your new-fangled nonsense about enshrining him
in the hearts of his countrymen. Let him be enshrined in the hearts of
his countrymen as individuals; but let cities, communities, and states
enshrine him in marble. These speak to the eyes; and hundreds, and
thousands will stand here, amid these beautiful shades, and think of him
with profound veneration, who would never otherwise look into any other
kind of history. The effect of such works as these is admirable; not
only in showing veneration for the great dead, but also upon the living,
in purifying the heart and ennobling its impulses."
"Baltimore, indeed, has set a noble example," said the lady.
"And richly will she be rewarded. A few years hence, the far West will
be brought to her doors; and she will grow up to be a mighty city.
Standing on the middle ground, between the angry sectionists of the
North and the South, she will present a haven in which the rivals may
meet, and learn to estimate each other's good qualities, and bury or
forget those errors which are inseparable from humanity. But see! Miss
St. Clair," said he, "what a singular looking man is just emerging from
within the column!"
"Heavens!" said the lady, in extreme terror, "that is the person! Do
take me from this place! I would not encounter him for the world!"
She was too late; for already had the object of her apprehension caught
a glimpse of her person; and no sooner had he done so, than with rapid
strides he advanced directly towards them. The lady shook with terror
and agitation. When he had approached almost in a direct line to within
some forty or fifty feet, he riveted a long and steady gaze upon the
lady, and another of shorter duration upon her companion, still walking
onward. Victor stood and gazed after him until he was entirely without
the enclosure.
He was a well-dressed man, apparently about fifty-five years of age,
tall, and straight in his carriage as an Indian; his hair was slightly
silvered; his countenance expressed wildness, but was steady and
consistent in the expression of present purpose; his eye was dark and
deep, and, when you looked upon it steadily for a short time, appeared
as if you were gazing at two black holes in his head; his complexion was
sallow; its characteristics--energy and deep determination.
"And that is the maniac?" said Chevillere, in a half-abstracted mood.
"I said not so," replied the lady; "but he is, indeed, that most
unfortunate man, whose whole business seems to be to haunt me in my
travels; otherwise our meeting has been most strangely accidental and
untoward."
"If he is in ill health," said Victor, "he may have gone to the Springs
without intending to meet you; and now, when the season is nearly over,
and he is likewise on his return, there is nothing more natural than his
visiting this monument--every stranger does so,--do not, therefore,
aggravate your distress by supposing these meetings to have been sought
on his part. I will endeavour to find him, and demand of him whether he
seeks to annoy an unhappy invalid by pursuing her from place to place,
and what are his motives."
"Oh! sir, for Heaven's sake, do not think of such a thing. He is a
powerful and a fearful man, when in his right mind; and even in his
derangement, might do you some harm, especially if you went as
commissioned by me. Besides, sir, if he was undoubtedly sane and
respectful, he might demand, as a right, to see me, and converse with me
too. Nay, he might possibly have some claim to control my actions; but
you see he does not. Let him alone, therefore, and do not involve
yourself in any of my troubles. I am inextricably entangled, and
pinioned down to a certain routine of suffering, perhaps unexampled, and
that too by no crime of my own."
"Dear lady," said Chevillere, taking her hand, as he saw her blue eye
filling with tears, and just ready to run over; "you cannot imagine how
much I feel interested for you; and what I am about to say, as it will
risk your displeasure, is the very best evidence that I can give of my
deep interest in your future peace and contentment. Believe me, dear
lady, that though I am young, and may be inexperienced,--I am not an
indifferent observer of the secret machinery of men's actions. I have
been a steady observer and a thinker for myself, without regard to the
opinion of individuals or the world, when I was conscious that I was
right, and that they were wrong. Listen to me, then, with patience,
while I give you my opinion, with regard to the difficulties which seem
to be accumulating around you. Of course, this opinion must be a general
one; as the circumstances upon which it is founded are only such as are
of a general character. Nor do I seek for more confidence on your part
towards me; I cannot expect that you should unfold the intimate
relations of your family and your friends to a comparative stranger.
This, then, is my (of course vague) opinion--I have generally observed,
in my intercourse with mankind, that the most trying situations and the
deepset distress are often brought about by a small mistake--
misfortune--or crime in the beginning. The latter of these I would defy
the most malignant misanthrope to look upon your countenance and charge
you with; one of the two former, then, is the point upon which all your
distress, and ill health, and melancholy hangs. My advice then is, upon
this general view of the case, that you go back to that point, and
rectify it as speedily as possible; and do it boldly and fearlessly, as
I am sure you can. Burst asunder these chains that fetter you, whatever
they may be."
"I see," said the lady (tears fast stealing down her cheeks), "that I am
always destined to make the same unhappy impression on every
acquaintance, male or female, valued or unvalued. Before I have grown
many degrees in their good opinion, some of these unlucky things are
seen to develop themselves, and then I am subject to the greatest
misfortune to which an honourable and a sensitive mind can be exposed;
that is, to be supposed weak or wicked, though at the same time
conscious of pure and upright motives. To be plain with you, sir, I must
tell you again, that in order for me to be relieved of that which
trammels me in some shape or other at every step, _the grave must give
up its own; and the law must give up its own; and the avaricious must
annul their decrees; and the dead of half a century must undo their
work; and the wisdom of the sage must be instilled into the mind of a
child; and the slanders, and the wild and wicked fancies of the lunatic
must be convinced by reason or actual demonstration of the foregoing
things_--before the point you speak of can be seized upon, and turned to
my advantage."
"Then, indeed, is it a hard case, and I will not distress you further on
the subject; I will not add my persecution to that of others--I will not
say enemies; for one so young and so artless, so innocent and so
unfortunate, can have no enemies."
"And therein consists part of my distress," replied she. "Is it not
strange that I have not an enemy living, to my knowledge, who has ever
wilfully injured me in word or deed? unless, indeed, it be yon wretched
old man, whose mind is now, and whose heart, I fear, has always been
wrong. Now, sir, let me beg of you, in future, whenever any of these
little occurrences embarrass me during my stay here, to take no notice
of them whatever; let me move along as quietly and as unobtrusively as
possible. I love the retirement of the country, and to the country and
retirement I will go. My mother loves me, and knows all my actions, and
their motives too; and even my father loves me in his own way. They will
be my companions for the remainder of a short and weary life."
The colloquy was cut short by their return to the hotel.
Lamar, as has been already announced, was a humorous gentleman, and
would not lose an opportunity of enjoying the remarks of one so new to
the busy world and its ways as Damon. He was not long in finding out the
retired quarters of the gentleman of the west. At the bar-room he
inquired if there was such a lodger in the house.
"No," said the barkeeper (so are these functionaries called), "but he is
expected every minute."
Lamar seated himself near the files of morning papers which lay strewed
along a reading-desk, and awaited the arrival of his singular new
acquaintance. In a few minutes Damon stalked in. A new black hat and
blue frock-coat had so much altered his appearance, that Lamar did not
recognise him until he took off his hat, wiped his dripping brows with
the handkerchief which he still carried in it, and then, seeing Lamar
for the first time, waved it over his head.
"Hurrah! for old Kentuck!" was his characteristic exclamation.
"Why, Damon, you have been under the tailor's hands," said Lamar.
"I believe I was in Old Sam's hands last night; but come up-stairs, and
I will tell you all about it."
They proceeded to the third story into a small apartment, dimly lighted
through a single window. Damon, after seating Lamar, threw aside his
coat, and drawing from under the head of his bed the one in which Lamar
had first seen him, he quickly inserted his arms through what remained
of the garment,--the lappels were torn off on each side down to the
waist, so that all the front of the coat was gone, leaving nothing but
the long straight back, collar, and sleeves. What remained was smeared
with mud, and torn in many places. He next proceeded to pull out of his
pocket a collar, and parts of two sleeves of a shirt, spreading them on
the bed, as a milliner would do her finery; and holding out both his
hands with the palms upward in the manner of an orator,----
"There!" said he, "that's what I call a pretty tolerable neat job, to
shirt a stranger the first night he comes to town."
Lamar, who by this time began to see a little into the affair, asked,
"But, Damon, how did all this happen? you seem to have been
discomfited."
"Now I'll be smashed if you ain't off the trail, stranger, for you see
I've only showed you half yet."
Upon which he drew from his other pocket a pair of spectacles, bent,
bloody, and broken,--then a wig,--and, lastly, the remains of a little
black rattan with a gold head and chain broken into inches. He displayed
these on the bed as he had done the others; only drawing his
handkerchief as a line between them. Upon this he fell, rather than sat,
back into a chair just behind him, and burst out into a loud, long, and
hearty laugh, seemingly excited afresh at the sight of his spoils.
"Well, now," said he, "I wish I may be horn swoggled, if ever I thought
to live to see the day when I should '_sculp_' a Christian man; but
there it is, you see; I left his head as clean as a peeled onion."
"But how? and when? and who was your antagonist in this frolic?"
"Frolic!" exclaimed Damon; "well, now, it's what I would call a regular
row; I never saw a prettier knock down and drag out in all the days of
my life, even in old Kentuck."
"But do tell me," said Lamar, "was anybody seriously hurt?"
"There was several chaps in the circus last night with their heels
uppermost, besides them suple chaps on the horses; I can tell you that."
"Oh! you were in the circus, were you?"
"Yes; and there was a rip-roaring sight of slight o'hand and tumblin
work there, besides their ground and lofty tumblin they had in the
handbills."
"You did some of the ground tumbling yourself then?" asked Lamar.
"No, I did the slight o'hand work, as you may see by the skin that's
gone off these four marrow-bones."
"And who did the ground tumbling?" asked Lamar.
"There was a good deal done there last night; the chaps in the ring and
the chaps in the pit all did a little at it; flummuck me if I didn't
think the heels of the whole house would be uppermost before they were
done; what an everlastin pity 'tis, these critters elbows ain't as suple
as their heels."
"Then you think all the people of Baltimore a little limber in the
heels."
"I can't say as to that; but I wish I may be hackled, if there was not
so much flyin up of the heels there last night, that I was fidlin and
tumblin all night in my sleep, jumpin through hoops, and tanglin my legs
in their long red garters, which the circus riders jumped over; and then
I thought they had my poor old horse, Pete Ironsides, jumpin over bars,
and leapin through fiery balloons, until at last they smashed his head
right into a tar barrel, and then maybe I didn't fly into a tear down
snortin rage! I was crammed full of fight then, and so I got to slingin
my arms about in my sleep, till I knocked out that head-board
there,--then I woke up, and I wish I may be hanged if I didn't think it
was all a dream; till I found that the forepart of my coat had run away
from the tail, and that I had got an odd collar among my linen. And then
on t'other hand I began to think it was all true, and rung the bell, and
sent the nigger down to the stable to see if Pete had his head in a tar
barrel sure enough; presently the nigger came back, grinen and giglin,
and said Pete had gone to the country two hours ago; so I run the little
nigger down stairs, and sent my old boots after him to get blacked; and
as I was dodgin through that long entry there, I saw the bottles, and
tumblers, and lemon-skins; so ho! said I, there's the mad dog that bit
me last night."
"Then you _began_ in a frolic at least," said Lamar.
"Only a small breeze or so; a few tumblers of punch, made of that
doubled and twisted Irish whiskey; it was none of your Kentuck low
wines, run off at a singlin, for I have made many a barrel. It was as
strong as _pison_, and it raised the Irish in me pretty quick, or rather
old Kentuck, for I jumped up and kicked the table over, and broke
things, afore I would have been cleverly primed with the low wines."
"Were you drinking all alone?"
"No; there was half-a-dozen milksops set down; I believe they board
here; but no sooner had I kicked the table over, and begun to smash
things a little, than they all sneaked out one by one, until they were
all gone but one, and I rather suspicion that he's a blackleg, for he
stuck pretty close to me till the row at the circus was over, and then
when I had got clear, he come up here with me, and sent for the chap who
furnished me with my new hat and coat; but it wasn't all for nothin, as
he thought, for he presently proposed that we should go down street a
piece, and see some fine fellers, he said, who were friends of his, and
who were going to have a night of it. Well, said I, 'a little hair of
the dog is good for the bite,' and down we went to a large room up four
pair of stairs in a dark alley. And there, sure enough, there was a
merry-looking set of fellers; but you see they overdid the job, for I
soon smelt a rat; they most all of 'em pretended to be too etarnal
drunk. I said nothin though, but 'possumed too a little; only sipped a
little wine, and that made me straight instead of crooked. But at last
they proposed a game of cards. Well, said I, I'm not much of a dabster
at it, but if the stake ain't high, I don't care if I do take a fling or
two; so down we set to it, and they pulled out their cards for loo.
Stop! stop! said I, we must have _new cards_; I never play with other
men's cards. They began to suspicion, maybe, that they had got the wrong
sow by the ear, but they sent and got some new packs, and then we took
a smash or two at the game, and I'm a Cherokee if I didn't give 'em a
touch or two of old Kentuck. I won all the money they had, but it wasn't
much, and they made me pay most of that for the refreshments, as they
said the winners always paid for them things."
"But you have not yet told me how you got into the row," said Lamar; "I
wish to know the whole story--come, let us have it?"
"Well, it's soon told. As I was telling you, the black-leg chap and I
went to the circus, and we had'nt set long in the pit before there was a
young gal come in, and set on one end of the same bench. She was'nt so
ugly neither, but I took pity on her because she looked like a country
gal, and there was no women settin near her. After a while, three chaps
come down from the boxes above, and set right down by the gal, and began
to push one another over against her; at last the one next her, and he
was the same chap you saw in the stage yesterday morning, only he had on
them green specks--well, he put his arm round her, and called her his
dear, and all that; well, you see, I had heard tell of these city gals,
and I thought if she was pleased it was none of my business; but
presently I heard her sobbing and crying, with her apron up to her eyes,
and she told them they were no gentlemen, or they would not treat a poor
girl so away from home. So the Irish whiskey, or old Kentuck, I don't
know which, began to rise in my throat. I jumped up and raised the
war-whoop. 'Old Kentuck for ever!' said I; and with that, I took the
back of my hand and knocked the chap's hat off, and his 'sculp' went
with it. Call your soul your own, said I; he jumped up and gin me a wipe
with that little black switch across the nose; it had hardly cleverly
touched me, afore I took him a sneezer, between the two eyes, glasses
and all; he dropped over like a rabbit when you knock 'em behind the
head; I rather suspicion he thought a two year old colt's heels had got
a taste of his cocoanut.
"Then the other two took it up, and both on 'em seized me, and swore
they would carry me to the police office; but I took 'em at cross
purposes, for while one of them held the collar of the old home-made, I
fetched the other a kick that sent him over the benches a rip roaring, I
tell you. The other little chap was hangin on to me like a leech to a
horse's leg; I jist picked him up and throwed him into the ring upon the
sand, for I did'nt want to hurt him: but then the real officers come up
and clamped me. I wished myself back in old Kentuck bad enough then; but
while they held me there, like a dog that had been killen sheep, the
little gal came up to me, and said she would go and bring her father, to
try and get me off; and then she asked me where I lived,--I told her in
old Kentuck; then she asked me where I put up, and I put my mouth to her
ear and told her; and I could hardly get it away again without givin her
a smack, for she would pass for a pretty gal even in old Kentuck; well,
this morning, her and her father were here by times to thank me, and the
old man invited me to stop at his house as I go home; it's on the same
road we came down yesterday."
"Did the girl go to the circus by herself?" asked Lamar.
"No; the old man stopped at the door to buy a ticket, and she went on,
and lost him."
"But you have not told me how you came by this scalp," said Lamar,
taking up the large black scratch with curled locks.
"Oh! you see, I grabbled that in the scuffle, and slipped it into my
pocket."
"How did you get away from the officers?"
"Oh! that's the way I lost the old 'home-made;' you see they began to
pull me over the benches, and I told 'em I would walk myself if they
would let me, and so they did, but they held on to my coat. I kept
pretty cool until they got outside of the house, and then a crowd
gathered round, and they began cologueing together, until I saw my way
out a little, and then I jist slipped my foot behind one of 'em and
pushed him down, and tumbled the other feller over him, and then I
showed them a clean pair of heels. They raised the whoop--and I raised
my tail like a blue-lick buck, for you see I had'nt much coat to keep it
down;--dash me if it was'nt tail all the way to the collar, and stood
out straight behind like it was afraid of my pantaloons. I made a few
turns to throw 'em off the trail, and then with a curly whoop, and a
hurrah! for old Kentuck, I got to my own door, where I found the
black-leg chap. Now you know the whole business, and I suppose you can
tell me whether there is any danger of their finding me out in that
little excuse for a coat that blasted tailor, who was so stingy with his
cloth, made me."
"I should suppose there was none in the world. Have no fear on that
head; there is not a magistrate in town who would not honour you in his
heart for what you did."
"I should think so too, if they had any gals of their own. The fact is,
if there was a little knockin down and draggin out once in a while among
them dandy chaps, they would take better care how they sleeved decent
men's daughters."
"Well, good day, Damon," said Lamar; "send for me or Chevillere if you
get into trouble."