Toward four o'clock that afternoon, a very thin, fair young man
shakily heaved himself into a hammock under the trees in that
broad backyard wherein, as Valentine Corliss had yesterday
noticed, the last iron monarch of the herd, with unabated
arrogance, had entered domestic service as a clothes-prop. The
young man, who was of delicate appearance and unhumanly pale,
stretched himself at full length on his back, closed his eyes,
moaned feebly, cursed the heat in a stricken whisper. Then, as a
locust directly overhead violently shattered the silence, and
seemed like to continue the outrage forever, the shaken lounger
stopped his ears with his fingers and addressed the insect in old
Saxon.
A white jacketed mulatto came from the house bearing something on
a silver tray.
"Julip, Mist' Vilas?" he said sympathetically.
Ray Vilas rustily manoeuvred into a sitting position; and, with
eyes still closed, made shift to accept the julep in both hands,
drained half of it, opened his eyes, and thanked the cup-bearer
feebly, in a voice and accent reminiscent of the melodious South.
"And I wonder," he added, "if you can tell me----"
"I'm Miz William Lindley's house-man, Joe Vaxdens," said the
mulatto, in the tone of an indulgent nurse. "You in Miz Lindley's
backyard right now, sittin' in a hammick."
"I seem to gather almost that much for myself," returned the
patient. "But I should like to know how I got here."
"Jes' come out the front door an' walk' aroun' the house an' set
down. Mist' Richard had to go downtown; tole me not to wake you;
but I heerd you splashin' in the bath an' you tole me you din'
want no breakfuss----"
"Yes, Joe, I'm aware of what's occurred since I woke," said Vilas,
and, throwing away the straws, finished the julep at one draught.
"What I want to know is how I happened to be here at Mr.
Lindley's."
"Mist' Richard brought you las' night, suh. I don' know where he
got you, but I heered a considerable thrashum aroun', up an' down
the house, an' so I come help him git you to bed in one vem
spare-rooms." Joe chuckled ingratiatingly. "Lord name! You
cert'n'y wasn't askin' fer no _bed_!"
He took the glass, and the young man reclined again in the
hammock, a hot blush vanquishing his pallor. "Was I--was I very
bad, Joe?"
"Oh, you was all _right_," Joe hastened to reassure him. "You was
jes' on'y a little bit tight."
"Did it really seem only a little?" the other asked hopefully.
"Yessuh," said Joe promptly. "Nothin' at all. You jes' wanted to
rare roun' little bit. Mist' Richard took gun away from you----"
"What?"
"Oh, I tole him you wasn' goin' use it!" Joe laughed. "But you so
wile be din' know what you do. You cert'n'y was drunkes' man _I_
see in _long_ while," he said admiringly. "You pert near had us
bofe wore out 'fore you give up, an' Mist' Richard an' me, we
_use'_ to han'lin' drunkum man, too--use' to have big times
week-in, week-out 'ith Mist' Will--at's Mist' Richard's brother,
you know, suh, what died o' whiskey." He laughed again in high
good-humour. "You cert'n'y laid it all over any vem ole times we
had 'ith Mist' Will!"
Mr. Vilas shifted his position in the hammock uneasily; Joe's
honest intentions to be of cheer to the sufferer were not wholly
successful.
"I tole Mist' Richard," the kindly servitor continued, "it was a
mighty good thing his ma gone up Norf endurin' the hot spell.
Sence Mist' Will die she can't hardly bear to see drunkum man
aroun' the house. Mist' Richard hardly ever tech nothin' himself
no more. You goin' feel better, suh, out in the f'esh air," he
concluded, comfortingly as he moved away.
"Joe!"
"Yessuh."
Mr. Vilas pulled himself upright for a moment. "What use in the
world do you reckon one julep is to me?"
"Mist' Richard say to give you one drink ef you ask' for it, suh,"
answered Joe, looking troubled.
"Well, you've told me enough now about last night to make any man
hang himself, and I'm beginning to remember enough more----"
"Pshaw, Mist' Vilas," the coloured man interrupted, deprecatingly,
"you din' broke nothin'! You on'y had couple glass' wine too much.
You din' make no trouble at all; jes' went right off to bed. You
ought seen some vem ole times me an Mist' Richard use to have 'ith
Mist' Will----"
"Joe!"
"Yessuh."
"I want three more juleps and I want them right away."
The troubled expression upon the coloured man's face deepened.
"Mist' Richard say jes' one, suh," he said reluctantly. "I'm
afraid----"
"Joe."
"Yessuh."
"I don't know," said Ray Vilas slowly, "whether or not you ever
heard that I was born and raised in Kentucky."
"Yessuh," returned Joe humbly. "I heerd so."
"Well, then," said the young man in a quiet voice, "you go and get
me three juleps. I'll settle it with Mr. Richard."
"Yessuh."
But it was with a fifth of these renovators that Lindley found his
guest occupied, an hour later, while upon a small table nearby a
sixth, untouched, awaited disposal beside an emptied coffee-cup.
Also, Mr. Vilas was smoking a cigarette with unshadowed pleasure;
his eye was bright, his expression care-free; and he was sitting
up in the hammock, swinging cheerfully, and singing the
"Marseillaise." Richard approached through the yard, coming from
the street without entering the house; and anxiety was manifest in
the glance he threw at the green-topped glass upon the table, and
in his greeting.
"Hail, gloom!" returned Mr. Vilas, cordially, and, observing the
anxious glance, he swiftly removed the untouched goblet from the
table to his own immediate possession. "Two simultaneous juleps
will enhance the higher welfare," he explained airily. "Sir, your
Mr. Varden was induced to place a somewhat larger order with us
than he protested to be your intention. Trusting you to exonerate
him from all so-and-so and that these few words, etcetera!" He
depleted the elder glass of its liquor, waved it in the air,
cried, "Health, host!" and set it upon the table. "I believe I do
not err in assuming my cup-bearer's name to be Varden, although he
himself, in his simple Americo-Africanism, is pleased to pluralize
it. Do I fret you, host?"
"Not in the least," said Richard, dropping upon a rustic bench,
and beginning to fan himself with his straw hat. "What's the use
of fretting about a boy who hasn't sense enough to fret about
himself?"
"`Boy?'" Mr. Vilas affected puzzlement. "Do I hear aright? Sir, do
you boy me? Bethink you, I am now the shell of five mint-juleps
plus, and am pot-valiant. And is this mere capacity itself to be
lightly _boyed_? Again, do I not wear a man's garment, a man's
garnitures? Heed your answer; for this serge, these flannels, and
these silks are yours, and though I may not fill them to the
utmost, I do to the longmost, precisely. I am the stature of a
man; had it not been for your razor I should wear the beard of a
man; therefore I'll not be boyed. What have you to say in
defence?"
"Hadn't you better let me get Joe to bring you something to eat?"
asked Richard.
"Eat?" Mr. Vilas disposed of the suggestion with mournful hauteur.
"There! For the once I forgive you. Let the subject never be
mentioned between us again. We will tactfully turn to a topic of
interest. My memories of last evening, at first hazy and somewhat
disconcerting, now merely amuse me. Following the pleasant Spanish
custom, I went a-serenading, but was kidnapped from beneath the
precious casement by--by a zealous arrival. Host, `zealous
arrival' is not the julep in action: it is a triumph of
paraphrase."
"I wish you'd let Joe take you back to bed," said Richard.
"Always bent on thoughts of the flesh," observed the other sadly.
"Beds are for bodies, and I am become a thing of spirit. My soul
is grateful a little for your care of its casing. You behold, I am
generous: I am able to thank my successor to Carmen!"