I found that I had arrived in the very "nick of time:" for just as I
returned from the stable, and was entering the verandah of the hotel, I
heard the bell calling its guests to supper. There was no ado made
about me: neither landlord or waiter met me with a word; and following
the stream of "boarders" or travellers who had arrived before me, I took
my seat at the common _table-d'hote_.
Had the scene been new to me, I might have found food for reflection, or
observed circumstances to astonish me. But I had been long accustomed
to mix in as motley a throng, as that which now surrounded the table of
the Swampville hotel. A supper-table, encircled by blanket and "jeans"
coats--by buckskin blouses and red-flannel shirts--by men without coats
at all--was nothing strange to me; nor was it strange either to find
these _bizarre_ costumes interspersed among others of fashionable cut
and finest cloth. Black broad-cloth frocks, and satin or velvet vests,
were quite common. Individuals thus attired formed a majority of the
guests--for in young settlements the "hotel" or "tavern" is also a
boarding-house, where the spruce "storekeepers" and better class of
clerks take their meals--usually sleeping in the office or store.
In glancing around the table, I saw many old "types," though not one
face that I had ever seen before. There was one, however, that soon
attracted my attention, and fixed it. It was _not_ a lady's face, as
you may be imagining; though there were present some of that sex--the
landlord's helpmate who presided over the coffee-pot, with some three or
four younger specimens of the backwoods fair--her daughters and nieces.
All, however, were absolutely without attraction of any sort; and I
somewhat bitterly remembered the _mot_ of double meaning, with which my
friend had entertained me at parting.
Venus was certainly not visible at the Swampville _table-d'hote_: for
the presiding divinity was a perfect Hecate; and her attendant damsels
could have found no place in the train of the Cytherean goddess. No--
the face that interested me was neither that of a female, nor in any way
feminine. It was the face of a _man_; and that in the most emphatic
sense of the word. He was a young man--apparently about four or five
and twenty--and costumed as a backwoods hunter; that is, he wore a
buckskin hunting-shirt, leggings, and mocassins--with bullet-pouch and
powder-horn suspended over his shoulder, and hunting-knife sheathed in
his belt. The coon-skin cap, hanging against the adjacent wall, was his
head-dress: I had seen him place it there, before taking his seat at the
supper-table. With the personal appearance of this young man the eye
was at once satisfied. A figure of correct contour, features of noble
outline, a face expressive of fine mental qualities--were the more
salient characteristics that struck me at the first glance. Regarding
the portrait more particularly, other details became manifest: round
hazel eyes, with well-developed lashes; brows finely arched; a
magnificent shock of nut-brown curling hair; a small, well-formed mouth,
with white, regular teeth--all contributed to the creation of what might
be termed a type of manly beauty. This beauty appeared in a somewhat
neglected garb. Art might have improved it; but it was evident that
none had been employed, or even thought of. It was a clear case of
"beauty unadorned;" and the possessor of it appeared altogether
unconscious of its existence. I need not add that this mental
characteristic, on the part of the young man, heightened the grace of
his personal charms.
Why this young fellow fixed my attention, I can scarcely tell. His
costume was by no means uncommon: though it was the only one of the kind
there present. It was not that, however, nor yet his fine personal
appearance, that interested me; but rather something I had observed in
his bearing and manner. As we were seated opposite each other, near the
foot of the long table, I had an excellent opportunity of observing him.
Notwithstanding his undoubted good looks--sufficiently striking to have
filled the possessor with vanity--his deportment was marked by a modest
reserve, that proved him either unaware of his personal advantages, or
without any conceit in them. By the glances occasionally cast towards
him, from the opposite end of the table, I could perceive that "Miss
Alvina" and "Miss Car'line" were not insensible to his attractions.
Neither, however, had reason to congratulate herself upon any
reciprocity of her favouring glances. The young man either did not
observe, or, at all events, took no notice of them. The melancholy
tinge pervading his features remained altogether unaltered. Equally
impassible did he appear under the jealous looks of some three or four
smart young storekeepers--influenced, no doubt, by tender relations
existing between them and the aforementioned damsels, whose sly
_espieglerie_ of the handsome hunter could not have escaped their
observation.
The young man appeared to be be rather _friendless_, than unknown. I
could perceive that almost all of the company were acquainted with him;
but that most of them--especially the gentlemen in broad-cloth--affected
an air of superiority over him. No one talked much to him: for his
reserved manner did not invite conversation; but when one of these did
address a few words to him, it was in the style usually adopted by the
well-to-do citizen, holding converse with his less affluent neighbour.
The young fellow was evidently not one to be sneered at or insulted;
but, for all that, I could perceive that the broad-cloth gentry did not
quite regard him as an equal. Perhaps this may be explained by the
hypothesis that he was _poor_, and, indeed, it did not require much
penetration to perceive that such was the reality. The hunting-shirt,
though once a handsome one, was no longer new. On the contrary, it was
considerably "scuffed;" and the green baize wrappers upon his limbs were
faded to a greenish brown. Other points proclaimed a light purse--
perhaps far lighter than the heart of him who carried it--if I was to
judge by the expression of his countenance.
Notwithstanding all this, the young hunter was evidently an object of
interest--whether friendly or hostile--and might have been the
_cynosure_ of the supper-table, but for my undress-frock and
spread-eagle buttons. These, however, claimed some share of the
curiosity of Swampville; and I was conscious of being the object of a
portion of its surveillance. I knew not what ideas they could have had
about me, and cared as little: but, judging from the looks of the men--
the broad-cloth gentlemen in particular--I was impressed with a
suspicion that I was neither admired nor welcome. In the eyes of your
"sovereign citizen," the mere military man is not the hero that he is
elsewhere; and he must show something more than a uniform coat, to
recommend himself to their suffrages. I was conceited enough to imagine
that Miss Alvina, and her _vis-a-vis_, Miss Car'line, did not look
altogether unfriendly; but the handsome face and magnificent curls of
the young hunter were beside me; and it was no use taking the field
against such a rival. I was not jealous of him, however, nor he of me.
On the contrary, of all the men present, he appeared most inclined to be
courteous to me--as was evinced by his once or twice pushing within my
reach those delicate dishes, distributed at _very_ long distances over
the table. I felt an incipient friendship for this young man, which he
appeared to reciprocate. He saw that I was a stranger; and
notwithstanding the pretentious fashion of my dress, perhaps he noticed
my well-worn coat, and conjectured that I might be as poor and
friendless as himself. If it was to this conjecture I was indebted for
his sympathies, his instincts were not far astray.