"He in the civilian dress," I said.
"Och! man, ye needn't be so purticular in your idintification. That
sarpint-look spakes for itself. Be my sowl! it's an unwholesome look
altogither. That fellow needn't fear wather--the say'll niver drown
_him_. Now, look here, Geordy, boy," continued Gallagher, facing
towards me and speaking in a more earnest tone: "Follow my advice to the
letther! First trid upon his toes, an' see how he takes it. The
fellow's got corns; don't ye see, he wears a tight boot? Give him a
good scrouge; make him sing out. Ov course, he'll ask you to
apologise--he must--you won't. Shurely that'll do the bizness without
farther ceremony? If it don't, then, by Jabus! hit him a kick in the
latter end."
"No, Gallagher," said I, disliking the programme, "it will never do."
"Bad luck to it, an' why not? You're not going to back out, are ye?
Think man! a villain who would murdher you! an' maybe will some day, if
you let him escape."
"True--but--"
"Bah! no buts. Move up, an' let's see what they're talking about,
anyhow. I'll find ye a chance, or my name's not Gallagher."
Undetermined how to act, I walked after my companion, and joined the
group of officers.
Of course, I had no thoughts of following Gallagher's advice. I was in
hopes that some turn in the conversation might give me the opportunity I
desired, without proceeding to such rude extremes.
My hopes did not deceive me. Arens Ringgold seemed to tempt his fate,
for I had scarcely entered among the crowd, before I found cause
sufficient for my purpose.
"Talking of Indian beauties," said he, "no one has been so successful
among them as Scott here. He has been playing Don Giovanni ever since
he came to the fort."
"Oh," exclaimed one of the newly arrived officers, "that does not
surprise us. He has been a lady-killer ever since I knew him. The man
who is irresistible among the belles of Saratoga, will surely find
little difficulty in carrying the heart of an Indian maiden."
"Don't be so confident about that, Captain Roberts. Sometimes these
forest damsels are very shy of us pale-faced lovers. Lieutenant Scott's
present sweetheart cost him a long siege before he could conquer her.
Is it not so, lieutenant?"
"Nonsense," replied the dandy with a conceited smirk.
"But she yielded at last?" said Roberts, turning interrogatively towards
Scott.
The dandy made no reply, but his simpering smile was evidently intended
to be taken in the affirmative.
"Oh yes," rejoined Ringgold, "she yielded at last: and is now the
`favourite,' it is said."
"Her name--her name?"
"Powell--Miss Powell."
"What! That name is not Indian?"
"No, gentlemen; the lady is no savage, I assure you; she can play and
sing, and read and write too--such pretty _billets-doux_. Is it not so,
lieutenant?"
Before the latter could make reply, another spoke:
"Is not that the name of the young chief who has just been arrested?"
"True," answered Ringgold; "it is the fellow's name. I had forgotten to
say that she is his sister."
"What! the sister of Osceola?"
"Neither more nor less--half-blood like him too. Among the whites they
are known by the name of Powell, since that was the cognomen of the
worthy old gentleman who begot them. Osceola, which signifies `the
Rising Sun,' is the name by which he is known among the Seminoles; and
_her_ native appellation--ah, that is a very pretty name indeed."
"What is it? Let us hear it; let us judge for ourselves."
"Maumee."
"Very pretty indeed!"
"Beautiful! If the damsel be only as sweet as her name, then Scott is a
fortunate fellow."
"Oh, she is a very wonder of beauty; eyes liquid and full of fiery
love--long lashes: lips luscious as honeycombs; figure tall; bust full
and firm; limbs like those of the Cyprian goddess; feet like
Cinderella's--in short, perfection."
"Wonderful. Why, Scott, you are the luckiest mortal alive. But say,
Ringgold! are you speaking in seriousness. Has he really conquered this
Indian divinity? Honour bright--_has he succeeded_? You understand
what I mean?"
"_Most certainly_," was the prompt reply.
Up to this moment I had not interfered. The first words of the
conversation had bound me like a spell, and I stood as if glued to the
ground. My brain was giddy, and my heart felt as if the blood passing
through it was molten lead. The bold enunciations had so staggered me,
that it was some time before I could draw my breath; and more than one
of the bystanders noticed the effect which the dialogue was producing on
me.
After a little, I grew calmer, or rather more resolute. The very
despair that had passed into my bosom had the effect of steeling my
nerves; and just as Ringgold uttered the flippant affirmative, I was
ready for him.
"Liar!" I exclaimed; and before the red could mount into his cheek, I
gave it a slap with the back of my hand, that no doubt helped to
heighten the colour.
"Nately done!" cried Gallagher; "there can be no mistake about the
maynin of that."
Nor was there. My antagonist accepted the act for what it was meant--a
deadly insult. In such company, he could not do otherwise; and,
muttering some indistinct threats, he walked away from the ground,
attended by his especial friend, the lady-killer, and two or three
others.
The incident, instead of gathering a crowd, had the contrary effect; it
scattered the little group who had witnessed it; the officers retiring
in-doors to discuss the motives, and speculate as as to when and where
"the affair would come off."
Gallagher and I also left the ground; and, closeted in my quarters,
commenced preparing for the event.