AN EXTENSIVE ARRIVAL.
During the run of the Orion, from the time that Leopold assumed the
charge of her till the anchor buried itself in the mud of the river, the
owner and the passengers remained in the cabin. They were all city
people, and to them the fog was even more disagreeable than a heavy
rain. It was cold and penetrating, and the pleasure-seekers found it
impossible to remain on deck. They were actually shivering with cold,
and perhaps for the first time in their lives realized what a blessing
the sunshine is. But Captain Bounce was on deck, and, standing on the
forecastle, he nervously watched the progress of the yacht. Doubtless he
felt belittled at finding himself placed under the orders of a mere boy,
even though the pilot was as polite as a French dancing-master.
[Illustration: CAPTAIN BOUNCE CANNOT SEE THE TOWN. Page 218.]
When the Orion changed her course off the ledges, he caught a glimpse of
the dangerous rocks, upon which he had heard the beating surf for a
moment before. From that time he did not see anything which looked like
a rock or a cliff. Even when the yacht swung around to her anchor, the
shore could not be seen from her deck, so dense was the fog.
Captain Bounce had not much confidence in the skill of his pilot. He had
not seen the rocks and cliffs which line the coast, and had no idea of
the perils which had surrounded him. Whenever Leopold ordered a change
in the course, he could just hear the murmuring sea breaking on the
shore; but the old sea-dog expected the vessel would be thrown upon the
rocks every moment. He was prepared to act upon an emergency of this
kind, and had actually arranged in his own mind his plan of procedure,
when the order to let go the jib-halyard indicated that the pilot
intended to anchor.
Captain Bounce looked about him, but he could see nothing which looked
like a town, a port, or a harbor. He was so obstinate in his
incredulity, that he was inclined to believe the young man in charge had
given up the attempt to find Rockhaven as a bad job, and intended to
anchor under the lee of some island. He obeyed the orders given him by
the pilot, however. The chain cable ran out, and when its music had
ceased, one of the church clocks in Rockhaven struck ten. Captain Bounce
heard it distinctly, and of course the sound from a point high above him
in the air overwhelmed him with positive proof that the young pilot knew
what he was about.
"Ten o'clock!" shouted Leopold, walking up to the captain of the yacht.
"We have been just five minutes short of an hour in coming up."
Leopold looked at his silver watch, which was the gift of Herr Schlager,
and rather enjoyed the perplexity of the sailing-master.
"I don't see any town," said Captain Bounce, going to the rail, and
gazing into the fog, in the direction from which the sounds of the
church clock had come.
"You heard the clock on the Methodist church strike--didn't you?"
"I heard that."
"Well, sir, we are in the river; and it is a crooked river, too. You
can't take a boat and pull in a straight line in any direction without
running on the rocks," added Leopold.
"I'm glad we are in a safe harbor," continued the old sea-dog, but in a
tone which seemed to belie his words, for he was not quite willing to
believe that the boy had piloted the vessel four or five miles, without
even seeing the shore a single time.
"When did you leave New York, Captain Bounce?" asked Leopold.
"Three days ago. We had a fine run till we went into the fog yesterday
morning. The wind was contrary, and in beating my way up I lost my
reckoning. I have been dodging the breakers for twenty-four hours. I was
afraid of a north-easterly storm; and if I had had no women on board, I
should have come about, and run out to sea. As it was, I had to feel my
way along."
"You are all right now," added Leopold, as he saw the owner and
passengers coming up the companion-way.
"You have brought us in--have you, Leopold?" said Mr. Hamilton.
"Yes, sir. You are in the river, off Rockhaven, though you can't see
anything," replied the young pilot.
"You have done well; and you are fully entitled to your pilotage," added
the ex-member of Congress.
"I don't pretend to be a pilot for pay," protested Leopold.
"You have brought the yacht into port, and here is your fee," said Mr.
Hamilton, putting some bank bills into his hand.
"No, sir!" exclaimed Leopold; "I don't want any money for what I have
done. I am not entitled to any pilot's fees."
"Yes you are, just as much entitled to them as though you had a warrant
or a branch. Now go to your hotel, and have everything ready for us as
quick as you can. We are wet and cold, and we want good fires,"
continued Mr. Hamilton.
"But this money--"
"Don't stop another moment, my boy," interrupted the rich merchant. "If
your father's hotel is as good as you say it is, we may stay there a
week."
Under this imperative order, Leopold thrust the bills into his pocket,
and leaped into the Rosabel. He had anchored the Orion off the wharf, in
the deep water in the middle of the river, so that her boats could
conveniently reach the landing-steps near the fish market. Hoisting his
mainsail and jib, he stood down the river.
"Come and help us get on shore!" shouted Mr. Hamilton, as the Rosabel
was disappearing in the fog. "We can't find the wharf."
"Ay, ay, sir," replied Leopold.
In a few moments he had anchored the sloop at her usual moorings,
secured the sails very hastily, and was climbing the steep path to the
road. In spite of the pride which had prompted him to refuse it, the
pilot's fee was a godsend to him, or, rather, to his father, for he
determined to give the money to him immediately. He took the bills from
his pocket, and found there were three ten-dollar notes. His heart
leaped with emotion when he remembered what his father said--that he had
not seen twenty dollars at one time for a month. The landlord actually
needed the money to make purchases for the comfort of his new guests.
Leopold was almost beside himself with joy, and he rushed up the steep,
rocky path without regard to the proper expenditure of his breath.
Puffing like a grampus, he reached the road, and then ran with all his
might, as if the Sea Cliff House was on fire. He rushed into the office,
and flew about the house like a madman. His father was nowhere to be
seen; but he spent only a moment in looking for him, and then darted out
into the wood-shed. Filling a bushel basket with wood, chips, and
shavings, he carried it into the big parlor, and lighted a tremendous
fire in the Franklin stove. Another was made in the large corner
apartment up stairs, with two bed-rooms _en suite_, which he always
called Mr. Hamilton's room. He piled on the wood with no niggardly hand
upon these, and four other fires he kindled in as many of the best rooms
in the house.
Calling the chambermaid to attend to those up stairs, he returned to the
public parlor, where he piled up the wood again.
"What under the sun are you doing, Leopold?" demanded his father, while
he was thus occupied.
"Making fires," replied the son, vigorously. "I have kindled five up
stairs."
"But what under--"
"Never mind now, father," interposed Leopold. "Fifteen folks from New
York will be here pretty soon, and you must be ready for them."
"Fifteen!" exclaimed the landlord, who had been mourning over the fog,
which promised to deprive him of the few guests who might otherwise come
over to Rockhaven in the steamer.
"Yes, sir, fifteen; and they are Mr. Hamilton's party."
"Good gracious!" exclaimed the astonished and delighted proprietor of
the Sea Cliff House.
"But I must go down to the wharf, and help get them ashore," continued
Leopold, so excited that he could hardly speak. "They are cold and wet,
and want good fires."
"I'll see to the fires Leopold. But where in the world did they come
from in this fog?"
"They came in a yacht. I went off about two miles from the ledges after
cod and haddock, and picked them up there. They had been knocking about
in the fog for twenty-four hours. I brought the yacht into the river,
and Mr. Hamilton gave me thirty dollars for pilot's fees. Here's the
money, father."
"But, Leopold," added the landlord, as he involuntarily took the bills,
"this is your money, and--"
"Never mind, father. We mustn't stop to talk about it now," interposed
the son, vehemently. "If you will have the house ready, I will go and
bring up the folks. Send the wagon down to the wharf as quick as you
can."
Leopold waited for nothing more, but ran down to the wharf as fast as
his legs would carry him, and arrived almost out of breath. To his
astonishment, he found quite a number of people gathered there, for it
had just been discovered that a large yacht had anchored in the river.
Squire Moses and Ethan Wormbury were there, the latter to look out for
the interests of the Island Hotel. Leopold borrowed a skiff belonging to
Mr. Bangs, and pulled off to the Orion. Both of her boats had been
lowered from the davits, and hauled up at the accommodation steps, in
readiness to convey the ladies and gentlemen to the shore.
"We are all ready for you at the Sea Cliff House, Mr. Hamilton," said
Leopold, us he stepped upon the deck.
"Shall we find a good fire in the parlor?" asked the ex-Congressman.
"Yes, sir, and in your rooms, too," replied Leopold. "We call it warm
weather down here; but I piled on the wood to suit your case."
"I am so glad to come here again!" said Rosabel, stepping up to Leopold.
"I am very much obliged to the fog for sending us to Rockhaven."
"I shall consider the fog one of my best friends after this," laughed
Leopold; and he conducted the young lady to the gangway.
"Father says you have a new hotel; and I hope we shall stay here all
summer."
"The Sea Cliff House, folks say, is about as good as anything on the
coast; and I hope the new hotel will suit you well enough to keep you
here a long time," said the gallant young man, as he assisted Rosabel
down the steps and into the stern-sheets of the boat.
"It would be so delightful to stay here all summer, and have the yacht,
so that we could sail about the bay!"
Leopold assisted the other ladies--of whom there were not less than
seven--to their places in the two quarter-boats of the Orion. The whole
party was disposed in both of them, and the landlord's son led the way
to the wharf in the skiff, which was reached in a few moments. Leopold
was on the landing-steps in time to assist the ladies when the first
boat came alongside the platform, and the whole party were soon on the
wharf.
"Who are all these people, Leopold?" asked Squire Moses Wormbury, as the
young man was ascending the steps.
"Mr. Franklin Hamilton's party from New York," replied the young man
hastily.
"Island Hotel, sir?" said Ethan Wormbury, approaching one of the
gentlemen, whose wife was leaning upon is arm; "best hotel in the place,
sir, and close to the wharf."
"If it is the best hotel in the place, that is where we wish to go,"
replied the gentlemen, with a slightly foreign accent in his tones.
"This way, if you please, sir," added Ethan, with enthusiasm, as he
began to move up the wharf.
"Doctor," called Mr. Hamilton, "where are you going?"
"To the hotel. Thin man says he keeps the best one in this place."
"We are all going to the Sea Cliff House," added the chief of the party.
Ethan gnashed his teeth with rage, and so did the squire, his father. It
was really horrible to see the whole party going to the Sea Cliff.
"How do you do, Mr. Hamilton?" said Squire Moses, extending his withered
hand to the New York merchant. "Glad to see you come down to the old
place once in a while."
"Ah, how do you do, Squire Wormbury?" replied Mr. Hamilton, taking the
offered hand. "I mean to come down here every year."
"My son keeps the Island Hotel," insinuated the squire. "He don't make
quite so much show as Bennington, but he will take good care of you, and
feed you better. Folks that know say he keeps the best house. And
Bennington has raised his price to three dollars a day; the Island
Hotel is only two."
Moses Wormbury considered the last argument as by far the most powerful
one he could present. How any man could help wishing to save a dollar a
day on his board, was more than the squire was able to comprehend.
"I have already spoken for rooms at the Sea Cliff House, and they have
made fires in them for us," replied Mr. Hamilton, unmoved by the old
man's powerful appeal.
"Ethan will give you a fire, and not charge you anything extra for it,
as they do at Bennington's," added the squire. "He can accommodate the
whole party if you will sleep two in a bed. You will save at least
fifteen dollars a day by going to the Island Hotel."
"As we have spoken for rooms at the Sea Cliff House, I think we ought to
go there," answered the New Yorker, rather coldly, unmoved by the
economical considerations of the squire.
"Stage all ready, Mr. Hamilton," interposed Leopold, who had listened
with painful anxiety to a portion of the old man's arguments.
The "stage" was a long wagon, like an omnibus, but with no top; and
Ethan saw, with an aching and an angry heart, the entire party of
fifteen crowd into this vehicle. Squire Moses was not only vexed, he was
downright mad. At any time it would have annoyed him, as well as Ethan,
to see fifteen "arrivals" go to the "other house," and not a single one
to the Island Hotel. To the old man it was doubly grievous at the
present time, for every day the party staid at the Sea Cliff House would
put at least forty-five dollars into the pocket of its landlord; and he
was afraid Mr. Bennington would be able to pay his interest money on the
day it was due. He wanted the new hotel for his son, if he could get it
cheap enough, that is, for one third or one half of its value. This
dawning of prosperity upon the Sea Cliff was, therefore, very unwelcome
to the squire and his son.
Leopold leaped upon the box with the driver as soon as the passengers
were all seated, and the two horses tugged up the steep hill from the
wharf with the heavy load. On the level road above, the excited teamster
put the whip upon his horses, and dashed up to the hotel at full
gallop. Fifteen arrivals at once, at this time in the year, was very
unusual, and everybody about the hotel was thrown into a fever of
excitement. The landlord stood upon the piazza, with no hat on his head,
bowed and scraped, and helped the ladies out of the wagon. The party
were shown to the parlor, which the roaring fire had heated to a fever
temperature, so that the perspiration stood upon the landlord's brow
when he entered it. In the mean time Leopold had hastened to his room to
change his clothes, and make himself presentable to the party.
"This is delicious--isn't it?" said one of the ladies, when she felt the
warm air of the parlor.
"It feels like a new world," added another.
"What a blessing it will be to be warm and dry once more!" put in a
third.
"We have made fires in your rooms, ladies," interposed the polite
landlord, doubly courteous under the avalanche of good fortune which had
fallen upon him. "I will show you your rooms as soon as you wish."
"Let us get warm before we do anything," said Mr. Hamilton, removing
his heavy coat. "You have a very nice house, Mr. Bennington."
"We think it is pretty fair down here," replied the modest landlord. "We
have a parlor up one flight, with a bed-room on each side, which Leopold
always calls 'Mr. Hamilton's rooms.' I think they will suit you; at any
rate, I fitted them on purpose for your use."
"That was very considerate," laughed the merchant.
"The three rooms will just accommodate your family. I have four other
parlors, not quite so large, with one bed-room to each," continued the
landlord, looking around at the New Yorkers, as if to ascertain their
wants. "Of course you needn't have private parlors, if you don't want
them. I have plenty of nice single rooms."
"We want the private parlors," replied Mr. Hamilton. "I did not expect
to find such accommodations in Rockhaven."
"I think I know what a hotel ought to be," added the landlord. "By and
by, if our guests don't want private parlors, we shall put beds in
them."
"Squire Moses says you have raised the price," laughed the rich
merchant.
"Yes, sir: I couldn't afford to keep such a house as I mean to keep at
two dollars a day in these times."
"You have done quite right, and the price is very reasonable."
"I shall have to charge five dollars a day for the parlors, if anybody
wants them."
"Certainly; that is also proper; and we want five of them. Now I will go
to the office, and enter the names on the register," said Mr. Hamilton.
Their were five gentlemen with their wives, two single gentlemen, two
young ladies, and one young gentleman of sixteen. Rooms were assigned to
them according to their several needs, and all the party expressed
themselves as delighted with their accommodations. The furniture was not
costly, but it was neat and comfortable. The beds were clean, and
everything was in good order. The baggage, which the boats had brought
ashore after landing the passengers, was conveyed by the wagon to the
hotel. In less than an hour, the guests were all comfortable and happy.
Mr. Bennington was on the jump all the time, and so was Leopold. The
landlady, who was also the cook, was "spreading herself" to the utmost
upon the dinner. They all knew that the success of the house depended in
a very great measure upon the satisfaction given to these wealthy and
influential guests. The landlord, however, knew better than to waste his
strength upon mere "style," for he could not expect to equal that to
which his present patrons were all accustomed at home. He wanted the
best of meats and vegetables, well cooked, and served hot. He knew very
well that a teaspoonful of string beans, mashed potato, stewed tomato,
or green peas, in a miniature dish, placed before a guest after it had
been standing half an hour on the pantry table, was not eatable; and he
governed himself accordingly.
At dinner the guests appeared modestly dressed, and it would have been
difficult to identify in them the bundles of water-proofs, shawls, and
overcoats which had landed at the wharf. Leopold had put on a "biled
shirt," as he called it, and dressed himself in his best clothes. To
him was assigned the duty of waiting upon Mr. Hamilton and his family.
In his "store clothes" Leopold was a good-looking fellow, and he was
remarkably attentive to the wants of Miss Rosabel.
The dinner proceeded satisfactorily to the new guests, as to the old
ones. Dr. Heilenwinder declared that the soup was marvellously good; and
when he learned that Mrs. Bennington, who made it was a German by birth,
its excellence was explained to him.
The fog and rain continued for three days, and the ladies of the party
hardly ventured out of the house. The bowling alleys and billiard tables
were in constant use, and every evening, in the large hall connected
with the hotel, there was a dance, to which Mr. Hamilton invited many of
the town's people. It was fun and frolic from morning till midnight; and
no party weather-bound in a hotel ever enjoyed themselves more.
The fourth day was bright and pleasant.