A NIGHT TRIP TO HITACA.
It seemed to me that pride had had a terrible fall in the person of
Colonel Wimpleton, though in the better sense it was pride’s conquest
over the low and degrading.
“I will not sign any paper, Wolf; but I mean what I say,” said he,
apparently feeling better for the confession he had made.
“I know you do, sir.”
“I am aware, now, that three times on that day I was saved from injury
or death by others. First my horse ran away with me.”
“Your horse?”
“You shall know all, Wolf. I had drank so much in Ruoara, that I
dropped the reins in driving home. In trying to recover them, I
frightened the horse, and he ran with me. Nick stopped him. Then I
came very near being run over by the train, and drowned in the lake.
It was all because I had been drinking too much. It was time for me to
brake up.”
That was the very expression my father had used in regard to him. It
is not every drunkard who has the power to “brake up” when he realizes
the peril of his condition. The colonel’s revelation had given me
a new light. He had seen Nick that forenoon. I asked him about it,
and he acknowledged that the snake had informed him in regard to the
“courting” at the Horse Shoe. I could not then understand Nick’s motive
for doing so, but I have since learned it.
“Do you know why I discharged you, Wolf?” asked the colonel.
“I supposed it was because you did not want one in your employ who had
seen you--as you were that day.”
“Partly for that, but more because you were working against me.”
“Against you, sir?”
“Nick told me you sent him to the Horse Shoe to warn the party of my
approach.”
“I did not wish to have Waddie and Miss Minnie see you as you were
then.”
“You were right, Wolf; and I thank you for saving them that pain and
shame,” he added, warmly. “I had no idea of saying as much to you as
I have; and I should not if Nick’s rascality had not come to light. I
gave that villain five hundred dollars.”
“What for?” I inquired, astonished at the acknowledgment.
“For stopping my horse, for saving my life in the boat, and for--for
keeping my secret.”
“What secret?”
“That my horse ran away with me.”
“He ought to have been satisfied with that, without trying to steal any
more,” I added, more disgusted than ever with the conduct of Nick.
The snake must have put in at Green Cove on his return from the Horse
Shoe, and had stopped the colonel’s horse in the road near it. Here he
had told the great man the mischief that was in store for his daughter.
I could not fathom the motive of Nick in this mean act. But really I
did not trouble myself much about him. I was more interested in the
colonel himself. I was amazed at the freedom with which he talked to
me. It had evidently caused him a severe mental struggle to open the
subject; but, after he had broken the way, it seemed to afford him
great relief. He owned that he had suffered intensely since his late
debauch, and I concluded that his confession even to me, with its
accompanying resolution, eased his mind.
Probably the effects of his intemperance wore heavily upon him
physically, and the sudden change in his habits tended to produce
depression. I had heard my father say that what is called an appetite
for intoxicating drinks has no relation whatever to the taste; but
when a person accustomed to drink liquor, moderately or otherwise,
discontinues its use, he suffers from a kind of aching void in
his physical frame, which nothing but the fiery fluid can supply.
The stimulus of life seems wanting, and the spirits are fearfully
depressed. This was doubtless the condition of Colonel Wimpleton.
Certainly it was something extraordinary which had produced this change
of his very nature.
He told me my words, declaring that he was drunk, had been ringing in
his ears ever since they were uttered. He was not aware at the time
how intoxicated he was. It was when he came to think of it in his
sober moments, and in the solitude of his chamber, that he realized his
situation. He felt that he deserved the pity of his friends and the
contempt of his enemies. He shuddered when he thought of the future,
with the habit steadily increasing upon him. Even his social position
and great wealth could not save him and his family from the shame and
disgrace which cling to the sot. His pride, rather than his principle,
saved him.
“Wolf, do you think people generally knew that I drank too much?” he
inquired.
“I am sorry to say they did. It was common talk,” I replied, candidly.
“I never suspected that any one knew it.”
“On the very day that Nick stopped your horse, he said to me that you
were on a regular bat.”
“A what?”
“A regular bat; another would have said a spree.”
“Is it possible I have sunk so low!” exclaimed he, with something like
a groan. “I alone have been blind.”
“I heard another say if you did not brake up, you would go to ruin.”
“I did brake up on the day after we went to the Springs. I feel better
to-night than I have since we parted after our return.”
“Will you tell me, sir, why you gave me that check?” I ventured to ask.
“Because I felt that I was in your power. You told me I was drunk, and
money makes friends.”
“Did you intend to discharge me then?”
“No; though I did not like the idea of having one in my employ who
could talk to me in that way. I did not decide to dismiss you till the
next morning, after Nick had told me you were working against me. I
took this as an excuse rather than a provocation. You may resume your
position as captain of the steamer to-morrow.”
“I am very grateful to you, sir; but I do not like to displace Van
Wolter, after he has been appointed.”
“But he is not fit for the place.”
“As fit as any man on the lake. You cannot find a pilot who would take
the Ucayga through the Horse Shoe Channel.”
“Perhaps you are right; but we will talk of that another time,” replied
the colonel.
He was silent and thoughtful again. I permitted him to choose his own
topic; but, as one good resolution begets another, I hoped soon to
find him in a frame of mind which would allow me to introduce a matter
which was still near my heart. The magnate did not speak again for half
an hour. We were off Port Gunga, and I heard a clock on shore strike
twelve. I suggested to the colonel that he could sleep very comfortably
in the cabin of the Belle.
“I do not care to sleep, Wolf,” he replied, still clinging to his
meditations.
I did not venture to disturb him, and we were within five miles of
Hitaca when he spoke again. I was fearful that he regretted having said
so much, and was compensating for his freedom by his long-continued
silence. My fear was groundless, for when he spoke again I realized
that his thought had been progress.
“Wolf!” said he, and paused.
“Sir.”
“I was never so astonished in my life as when I learned that Toppleton
had sent his steamer to the relief of the Ucayga,” he added.
“It was only an act of courtesy,” I replied, my heart beating with
emotion; for this was the topic upon which I wished to talk with him.
“Such acts of courtesy have not passed much between Toppleton and
myself of late years. Then he even had the audacity to send me a
message of congratulation on the safety of the boat.”
“I have no doubt he was sincere.”
Another long pause.
“Twenty years ago, Toppleton was a good fellow, and we were the best of
friends,” he continued.
“He has done a great deal for me; and, though he was sometimes unjust,
I always felt very grateful to him.”
“I suppose I have been very unjust to you sometimes, too.”
“I never had any claims upon you or Major Toppleton, and perhaps I am
not as competent to judge as a disinterested person would be.”
“Toppleton has offered you a good place on the railroad.”
“Yes, sir; a very good place,” I answered, warmly.
“Would you rather be in his employ than mine?”
“No, sir.”
“If you would, I ought not to object.”
“I would rather be in the employ of both of you,” I suggested.
“That cannot very well be.”
“I think it can, sir.”
“How?”
“Major Toppleton offers to appoint me agent for the Lake Shore
Railroad. If you will also appoint me agent of the steamboat, I shall
be in the employ of both.”
“Agent for two rival lines!” exclaimed he. “That is absurd.”
“Of course I mean that the two lines shall be united.”
“You are at your old trick, Wolf,” replied the colonel; but there was
no bitterness in his tones.
“I honestly think it would be best for both lines, and best for the
travelling public.”
“But I don’t want Toppleton to think I am ready to go down on my knees
to him,” said the colonel, with a little of his old spite.
“Why, sir, Major Toppleton has, by his act of courtesy yesterday,
opened the way for you to do a similar one. He has met you more than
half way without a word from you.”
“I suppose I can be as courteous as he can. If one of his boats gets
into trouble, mine shall help her out; but I am not to be the first one
to propose a union of the two lines.”
“But he has already proposed it.”
“I will think of it, Wolf; but I do think we are in a better condition
to connect than ever before.”
Not daring to push the matter too fast, I said no more. At about two in
the morning the Belle reached the wharf at Hitaca. We went to the hotel
where the colonel usually staid, and, calling up the landlord, took
rooms and retired.
I was so weary that it was after eight when I waked. I went down, and
I found the colonel had not yet appeared. I called him, and after
breakfast we visited all the hotels, but obtained no tidings of Nick
Van Wolter. I had intended to get up soon enough to go on board the
Ucayga before she started, but I had overslept myself, and she had been
gone an hour and a half when I got out of bed. I blamed myself for my
neglect; but it could not be helped. However, there was no doubt that
Nick had come up in the steamer, and was somewhere in Hitaca. We could
only lie in wait for him at the railroad station.
The railway from Hitaca has to overcome a very steep grade, and to
do this the train “beats” up the hills, first running ahead, then
switching off and backing a considerable distance, and then going ahead
again on its course, thus saving the grade in turning. It occurred
to me that Nick might go out to one of these switches, and enter the
cars when they stopped. Colonel Wimpleton was to take the train at the
station in town, while I went out in a wagon to the switches. I left my
team at the farther one, and walked back to the first on the track. My
calculation was correct. Nick had evidently heard of us in Hitaca, and
expected to dodge us in this way. I confronted him in the steep road
near the first switch, as the train was seen in the distance.
Nick had a travelling bag in one hand, with a breech-loading rifle over
his shoulder. He turned pale when I stepped into his path. I told him
he must go back to Hitaca with me. Then he showed fight; and, not
liking the looks of his rifle, I sprang upon him, for I was in earnest.
He struggled desperately to escape me, and we had a hard tussle; but
I finally wrenched the weapon from him, and threw him on the ground.
Seizing him by the collar, I held him down till the train had passed.
[Illustration: NICK VAN WOLTER RESISTS.]