"Sir," says I, "where's the writing?"
"'Tis in your father's Bible," he answered.
I got it from the Book and touched a flaring match to it. "'Tis the
end of _that_, sir," says I. "You an' me, sir," says I, "will be
shipmates to the end of the voyage."
He rose.
"You're not able, sir," says I.
"I is!" he declared.
'Twas with difficulty he got to his feet, but he managed it; and then
he turned to me, though I could see him ill enough in the dark.
"Dannie, lad," says he, "I 'low I've fetched ye up very well. Ye is,"
says he, "a--"
"Hush!" says I; "don't say it."
"I will!" says he.
"Don't!" I pleaded.
"You _is_," he declared, "a gentleman!"
The night and the abominable revelations of it were ended for my uncle
and me in this way....
* * * * *
And so it came about that the Honorable was troubled no more by our
demands, whatever the political necessities that might assail him,
whatever the sins of other days, the black youth of him, that might
fairly beset and harass him. He was left in peace, to follow his
career, restored to the possessions my uncle had wrested from him, in
so far as we were able to make restitution. There was no more of it:
we met him afterwards, in genial intercourse, but made no call upon
his moneybags, as you may well believe. My uncle and I made a new
partnership: that of Top & Callaway, of which you may have heard, for
the honesty of our trade and the worth of the schooners we build. He
is used to taking my hand, upon the little finger of which I still
wear the seal-ring he was doubtful of in the days when Tom Bull
inspected it. "A D for Dannie," says he, "an' a C for Callaway, an'
betwixt the two," says he, "lyin' snug as you like, is a T for Top!
An' that's the way I lies," says he, "ol' Top betwixt the Dannie an'
the Callaway. An' as for the business in trade an' schooners that
there little ol' damned Chesterfieldian young Dannie haves builded
from a paddle-punt, with Judy t' help un," says he, "why don't ye be
askin' me!" And the business I have builded is good, and the wife I
have is good, and the children are good. I have no more to wish for
than my uncle and wife and children. 'Tis a delight, when the day's
work is done, to sit at table, as we used to do when I was a child,
with the geometrical gentleman framed in their tempestuous sea beyond,
and to watch my uncle, overcome by Judith's persuasion, in his old
age, sip his dram o' hot rum. The fire glows, and the maid approves,
and my uncle, with his ailing timber comfortably bestowed, beams
largely upon us.
"Jus' a nip," says he. "Jus' a wee nip o' the best Jamaica afore I
goes t' bed."