GOOD-BYE TO OLD HAUNTS AND FACES
That some extraordinary thing was afoot next day, every soul who
worked in our store, or who entered it on business, vaguely felt. To
me, who had gained a hint of what was going forward,--baffling and
tantalizing, yet a hint for all that,--and to Arnold Lamont, who, I
was convinced as I saw him watch my uncle's nervous movements,
although he had no such plain hint to go upon, had by his keen,
silent observation unearthed even more than I, the sense of an
impending great event was far from vague. I felt as sure as of my
own name that before nightfall something would happen to uproot me
from my native town, whose white houses and green trees and hedges,
kindly people and familiar associations, lovely scenes and quiet,
homely life I so deeply loved.
The strange light in Cornelius Gleazen's eyes, as he watched us hard
at work taking an inventory of stock, confirmed me in the
presentiment. My uncle's harassed, nervous manner as he drove us on
with our various duties, Sim Muzzy's garrulous bewilderment, and
Arnold Lamont's keen, silent appraisal, added each its little to the
sum of my convictions.
The warmer the day grew, the harder we worked. Uncle Seth flew about
like a madman, picking us up on this thing and that, and urging one
to greater haste, another to greater care. Throwing off his coat, he
pitched in with his own hands, and performed such prodigies of labor
that it seemed as if our force were doubled by the addition of
himself alone. And all the time Neil Gleazen sat and smiled and
tapped his beaver.
He was so cool, so impudent about it, that I longed to turn on him
and vent my spleen; but to Uncle Seth it apparently seemed entirely
suitable that Gleazen should idle while others worked.
Of the true meaning of all this haste and turmoil I had no further
inkling until in the early afternoon Gleazen called loudly,--
"He's here, prompt to the minute."
Then Uncle Seth drew a long breath, mopped the sweat from his face
and cried,--
"I'm ready for him, thank heaven! The boys can be finishing up what
little's left."
I looked, and saw a gentleman, just alighted from his chaise, tying
a handsome black horse to the hitching-post before the door.
Turning his back upon us all, Uncle Seth rushed to the door, his
hands extended, and cried, "Welcome, sir! Since cock-crow this
morning we have been hard at work upon the inventory, and it's this
minute done--at least, all but adding a few columns. Sim, another
chair by my desk. Quick! Mr. Gleazen, I wish to present you to Mr.
Brown. Come in, sir, come in."
The three shook hands, and all sat down together and talked for some
time; then, at the stranger's remark,--"Now for figures. There's
nothing like figures to tell a story, Mr. Upham. Eh, Mr. Gleazen? We
can run over those columns you spoke of, here and now,"--they
bestirred themselves.
"You're right, sir," Uncle Seth cried: and then he sharply called,
"Arnold, bring me those lists you've just finished. That's right; is
that all? Well, then you take the other boys and return those boxes
in the back room to their shelves. That'll occupy you all of an
hour."
No longer able to pick up an occasional sentence of their talk, we
glumly retired out of earshot and were more than ever irritated when
Gleazen, his cigar between his teeth, stamped up to the door between
the front room and the back and firmly closed it.
"Why should they wish so much to be alone?" Arnold asked.
I ventured no reply; but Sim Muzzy, as if personally affronted,
burst hotly forth:--
"You'd think Seth Upham would know enough to ask the advice of a man
who's been working for him ever since Neil Gleazen ran away from
home, now wouldn't you? Here I've toiled day in and out and done
good work for him and learned the business, for all the many times
he's said he never saw a thicker head, until there ain't a better
hand at candling eggs, not this side of Boston, than I be. And does
he ask my advice when he's got something up his sleeve? No, he
don't! And yet I'll leave it to Arnold, here, if my nose ain't
keener to scent sour milk than any nose in Topham--yes, sir."
The idea of Sim Muzzy's advice on any matter of greater importance
than the condition of an egg or the sweetness of milk, in
determining which, to do him justice, he was entirely competent,
struck me as so funny that I almost sniggered. Nor could I have
restrained myself, even so, when I perceived Arnold looking at me
solemnly and as if reproachfully, had not Uncle Seth just then
opened the door and called, "Sim, there's a lady here wants some
calico and spices. Come and wait on her."
When, fifteen minutes later, Sim returned, closing the door smartly
behind him, Arnold asked with a droll quirk, which I alone
perceived, "Well, my friend, what did you gather during your stay in
yonder?"
"Gather? Gather?" Sim spluttered. "I gathered nothing. There was
talk of dollars and cents and pounds and pence, and stocks and
oils, and ships and horses, and though I listened till my head swam,
all I could make out was when Neil Gleazen told me to shut the door
behind my back. If they was to ask my advice, I'd tell 'em to talk
sense, that's what I'd do."
"Ah, Sim," said Arnold, "if only they were to ask thy advice, what
advice thee would give them!"
"Now you're talking like a Quaker," Sim replied hotly. "Why do
Quakers talk that way, I'd like to know. Thee-ing and thou-ing till
it is enough to fuddle a sober man's wits. I declare they are almost
as bad as people in foreign parts who, I've heard tell, have such a
queer way of talking that an honest man can't at all understand what
they're saying until he's got used to it."
"Such, indeed, is the way of the inconsiderate world, Sim," Arnold
dryly replied.
Then the three of us put our shoulders to a hogshead, and in the
mighty effort of lifting it to the bulkhead sill ceased to talk.
As we finally raised it and shoved it into the yard, Sim stepped
farther out than Arnold and I, and looking toward the street,
whispered, "He's going."
I sprang over beside him and saw that the visitor, having already
unhitched his horse, was shaking hands with Uncle Seth. Stepping
into the chaise, he then drove off.
For a space of time so long that the man must have come to the bend
in the road, Uncle Seth and Cornelius Gleazen watched him as he
went; then, to puzzle us still further, smiling broadly, they shook
hands, and turning about, still entirely unaware that we were
watching them, walked with oddly pleased expressions back into the
store.
My uncle's face expressed such confidence and friendliness as even I
had seldom seen on it.
"Now ain't that queer?" Sim began. "If Seth Upham was a little less
set in his ways, I'd--"
With a shrug Arnold Lamont broke in upon what seemed likely to be a
long harangue, and made a comment that was much more to the point.
"Now," said he, "we are going to hear what has happened."
Surely enough, we thought. No sooner were we back in the store, all
three of us, than the door opened and in came Uncle Seth.
"Well," said he, brusquely, and yet with a certain pleased
expression still lingering about his eyes, "I expected you to have
done more. Hm! Well, work hard. We must have things in order come
morning."
Arnold smiled as my uncle promptly returned to the front room, but
Sim and I were keenly disappointed.
"How now, you who are so clever?" Sim cried when Uncle Seth again
had closed the door. "How now, Arnold? We have heard nothing."
"Why," said Arnold, imperturbably, "not exactly 'nothing.' We have
learned that the man is coming back to-morrow."
"Are you crazy?" Sim responded. "Seth Upham said nothing of the
kind."
Arnold only smiled again. "Wait and see," he said.
So we worked until late at night, putting all once more to rights;
and in the morning, true to Arnold's prophecy, the gentleman with
the big black horse, accompanied now by a friend, made a second
visit in the front room of the store.
This time he talked but briefly with Uncle Seth and Neil Gleazen,
who had already waited an hour for his arrival. As if eager to see
our business for himself, he then walked through the store,
examining every little detail of the stock and fixtures, and asked a
vast number of questions, which in themselves showed that he knew
what he was about and that he was determined to get at the bottom of
our affairs. There was talk of barrels of Alexandria superfine flour
and hogsheads of Kentucky tobacco; of teas--Hyson, young Hyson,
Hyson skin, Powchong and Souchong; of oil, summer and winter; of
Isles of Shoals dun fish and Holland gin and preserved ginger, and
one thing and another, until, with answering the questions they
asked me, I was fairly dizzy.
Having examined store and stock to his satisfaction, he then went
with Uncle Seth, to my growing wonder, up to our own house; and from
what Sim reported when he came back from a trip to spy upon them,
they examined the house with the same care. In due course they
returned to the store and sat down at the desk, and then the friend
who accompanied our first visitor wrote for some time on an
official-looking document; Uncle Seth and the strange gentleman
signed it; Arnold Lamont, whom they summoned for the purpose, and
Cornelius Gleazen witnessed it; and all four drove away together,
the gentleman and his friend in their chaise and Uncle Seth and Neil
Gleazen in our own.
"When Seth Upham returns," said Arnold, "we shall be told all."
And it was so.
Coming back alone in the late afternoon, Uncle Seth and Gleazen left
the chaise at the door, and entering, announced that we should close
the store early that day. Gleazen was radiant with good-nature, and
there was the odor of liquor on his breath. Uncle Seth, on the
contrary, appeared not to have tasted a drop. He was, if anything, a
little sharper than ever at one moment, a little more jovial at the
next, excited always, and full of some mysterious news that seemed
both to delight and to frighten him.
Obediently we fastened the shutters and drew the shades and made
ready for the night.
"Now, lads," said Uncle Seth, "come in by my desk and take chairs. I
have news for you."
Exchanging glances, we did so. Even Sim Muzzy was silent now.
We all sat down together, Uncle Seth and Neil Gleazen at the desk,
Arnold Lamont and I a little at one side, and Sim Muzzy tilting back
importantly at a point from which he could watch us all.
At the time I thought what an interesting study in character the
others made; but since then I have come to think that by my own
attitude toward them I revealed more of the manner of youth I myself
was, than by their bearing they revealed of the manner of men they
were. There was Neil Gleazen, who held his cigar in his left hand
and, with the finger on which his great diamond flashed, knocked
each bit of ash on the floor so promptly after it formed, that the
glowing coal of fire seemed to eat into the dark tobacco and leave
no residue whatever. I was confident that he thought more of me both
for my good fellowship and for my sound sense than he thought of any
of the others present--or in town, for that matter! As for Uncle
Seth, who was at once nervous and elated, I must confess, although
it did not take me long to learn enough to be heartily ashamed of
it, that I was just a little inclined in my own mind to patronize
him; for although all my excellent prospects came entirely from his
shrewd labors, I felt that he was essentially the big toad in the
small puddle.
With the others, I smiled at Sim Muzzy. But with regard to Arnold
Lamont I was less confident. There had been a world of philosophy in
his brief remark that a man does not tell all he knows; and my
fencing bout with him was still too fresh in my mind to permit me
actually to patronize him. He sat now with his thoughtful eyes
intent on my uncle, and of the five of us he was by long odds the
most composed.
Although I have betrayed my vanity in a none too flattering light,
it would be unjust, I truly think, not to add, at the risk of
seeming to contradict myself, that I was instinctively kind-hearted,
and that I did not lack for courage.
"I have news for you, boys," Uncle Seth began, with a manner at once
abrupt and a little pompous, but with a warm smile at me. "I hope
you'll be glad to hear it, although it means a radical change in the
life we've lived together for so many years. First of all, I want to
say that each of you will be well looked after."
Uncle Seth paused and glanced at Cornelius Gleazen, who nodded as if
to encourage him to go on.
"Yes, you will be well looked after, however it may appear at first
flush. I'll see that no faithful man suffers to my profit, even
though I have sold the store."
"What's that? You've sold the store?" Sim wildly broke in. "If
you've--you've gone and sold the store? What--what?"
"Be still, Sim," Uncle Seth interposed. "Yes, I have sold the store.
I know that Joe'll not be surprised to hear it; but even he has had
only the vaguest hint of what's going forward. The gentleman who was
here yesterday and to-day, has bought me out, store and house, lock,
stock, and barrel."
"The house!" I cried.
"Yes," said Uncle Seth shortly.
"But what'll I do? And Arnold? And Joe?" Sim demanded. "Oh, Seth
Upham! Never did I think to see this day and hear them words."
"I'm coming to that," said Uncle Seth. "There'll be room here for
the three of you if you want to stay, and there'll be work in
abundance in the store; but--ah, lads, here's the chance for
you!--there'll be room for you with me, if you wish to come. I have
bought a ship--"
"A brig," Cornelius Gleazen put in.
"A brig," said Uncle Seth, accepting the correction. "The Adventure,
a very tidy little craft, and well named."
Cornelius Gleazen gave his cigar a harder flick and in a reminiscent
voice again forced his way into the conversation. "Ninety-seven foot
on deck, twenty-four foot beam, sixteen foot deep, and a good two
hundred and fifty ton, built of white oak and copper fastened.
Baltimore bow and beautiful rake. Trim as a gull and fast as a duck.
Tidy's the word, Seth, tidy."
Gleazen's fingers were twitching and his eyes were strangely alight.
"Yes, yes," said Uncle Seth, sharply.
"But that's not all," Gleazen insisted.
"Well, what of it?" Uncle Seth demanded. "Are you going to tell 'em
everything?"
At this Gleazen paused and looked hard at his cigar. His fingers, I
could see, were twitching more than ever.
"No," he slowly said, "not everything. Go ahead, Seth."
"If you keep putting in, how can I go ahead."
"Oh, stow it!" Gleazen suddenly roared. "This is no piffling
storekeeper's game. Go on!"
As you can imagine, we were all eyes and ears at this brush between
the two; and when Gleazen lost his temper and burst out so hotly, in
spite of my admiration for the man, I hoped, and confidently
expected, to see Uncle Seth come back, hammer and tongs, and give
him as good as he sent. Instead, he suddenly turned white and
became strangely calm, and in a low, subdued voice went on to the
rest of us:--
"We shall take on a cargo at Boston and sail for the West Indies,
where we shall add a few men to the crew and thence sail for Africa.
I'm sure the voyage will yield a good profit and--"
"O Seth, O Seth!" cried Gleazen, abruptly. "That is no manner of way
to talk to the boys. Let me tell 'em!"
My uncle, at this, drew back in his chair and said with great
dignity, "Sir, whose money is financing this venture?"
"Money?" Gleazen roared with laughter. "What's money without brains?
I'll tell 'em? You sit tight."
We were all but dumbfounded. White of face and blue of lip, Seth
Upham sat in his chair--_his no longer!_--and Gleazen told us.
He threw his cigar-butt on the floor and stepped on it, and drummed
on his beaver hat with nimble fingers.
"It's like this, lads," he said in a voice that implied that he was
confiding in us: "I've come home here to Topham with a fortune, to
be sure, and I've come to end my days in the town that gave me
birth. But--" his voice now fell almost to a whisper--"I've left a
king's wealth on the coast of Guinea."
He paused to see the effect of his words. I could hear my uncle
breathing hard, but I held my eyes intently on Neil Gleazen's face.
"A fit treasure for an emperor!" he whispered, in such a way that
the words came almost hissing to our ears.
Still we sat in silence and stared at him.
"With three good men to guard it," he went on after another pause.
"Three tried, true men--friends of mine, every one of them. Suppose
I _have_ made my fortune and come home to end my days in comfort?
I'd as soon have a little more, _hadn't you_? And I'd as soon give a
hand to a hard-working, honest boyhood friend, _hadn't you_? Here's
what I done: I said to Seth Upham, who has robbed many a church with
me--"
At that, I thought my uncle was going to cry out in protest or
denial; but his words died in his throat.
"I said to him, 'Seth, you and me is old friends. Now here's this
little scheme. I've got plenty myself, so I'll gladly share with
you. If you'll raise the money for this venture, you'll be helping
three good men to get their little pile out of the hands of heathen
savages, and half of the profits will be yours.' So he says he'll
raise money for the venture, and he done so, and he's sold his store
and his house, and now he can't back down. How about it, Seth?"
My uncle gulped, but made no reply. Gleazen, who up to this point
had been always deferential and considerate, seemed, out of a clear
sky, suddenly to have assumed absolute control of our united
fortunes.
"Of course it won't do to turn off old friends," he continued. "So
he made up his mind to give you lads your choice of coming with us
at handsome pay--one third of his lay is to be divided amongst those
of you that come--"
"No, I never said that," Uncle Seth cried, as if startled into
speech.
"You never?" Gleazen returned in seeming amazement. "The papers is
signed, Seth."
"But I never said that!"
Gleazen turned on my uncle, his eyes blazing. "This from you!" he
cried with a crackling oath. "After all I've done! I swear _I'll_
back out now--then where'll you be? What's more, I'll tell what I
know."
My uncle in a dazed way looked around the place that up to now had
been his own little kingdom and uttered some unintelligible murmur.
"Ah," said Gleazen, "I thought you did." Then, as if Uncle Seth had
not broken in upon him, as if he had not retorted at Uncle Seth, as
if his low, even voice had not been raised in pitch since he began,
he went on, "Or, lads, you can stay. What do you say?"
Still we sat and stared at him.
Sim Muzzy, as usual, was first to speak and last to think. "I'll
go," he exclaimed eagerly, "I'll go, for one."
"Good lad," said Gleazen, who, although they were nearly of an age,
outrageously patronized him.
With my familiar world torn down about my shoulders, and the
patrimony that I long had regarded as mine about to be imperiled in
this strange expedition, it seemed that I must choose between a
berth in the new vessel and a clerkship with no prospects. It was
not a difficult choice for a youth with a leaning toward adventure,
nor was I altogether unprepared for it. Then, too, there was
something in me that would not suffer me lightly to break all ties
with my mother's only brother. After a moment for reflection, I
said, "I'll go, for two."
Meanwhile, Arnold Lamont had been studying us all and had seen, I am
confident, more than any of us. He had taken time to notice to the
full the sudden return of all Cornelius Gleazen's arrogance and the
extraordinary meekness of Uncle Seth who, without serious affront,
had just now taken words from Gleazen for which he would once have
blazed out at him in fury.
It did not take Arnold Lamont's subtlety to see that Gleazen, by
some means or other, had got Seth Upham under his thumb and was
taking keen pleasure in feeling him there. Gleazen's attitude toward
my uncle had undergone a curious series of changes since the day
when, for the first time, I had seen him enter our store: from
arrogance he had descended to courtesy, even to deference; but from
deference he had now returned again to arrogance. In his attitude on
that first day there had been much of the cool insolence that he now
manifested; but after a few days it had seemed to a certain extent
to have vanished. Rather, the consideration with which he had of
late treated my uncle had been so great as to make this new
impudence the more amazing.
Many things may have influenced Arnold in his decision; but among
them, I think, were his gratitude to Uncle Seth, who had taken him
in and given him a good living, and who, we both could see, was
likely now to need the utmost that a friend could give him; his
friendliness for Sim and me, with whom he had worked so long; and,
which I did not at the time suspect, the desire of a keen, able,
straight-forward man to meet and beat Cornelius Gleazen at his own
game.
"I will go with you," he quietly said.
"Good lads!" Gleazen cried.
"One thing more," said I.
"Anything--anything--within reason, aye, or without."
"Uncle Seth once spoke to me of selling out Abraham Guptil."
My uncle now bestirred himself and, shaking off the discomfiture
with which he had received Gleazen's earlier words, said with
something of his usual sharpness, "The sheriff has had the papers
these three days."
"Then," I cried, "I beg you, as a favor, let him have a berth with
us."
"What's that? Some farmer?" Gleazen demanded.
"He's bred to the sea," I returned.
"That puts another face on the matter," said Gleazen.
"Well," said my uncle. "But his lay comes out of the part that goes
to you, then."
"But," I responded, "I thought of his signing on at regular wages."
Then I blushed at my own selfishness and hastened to add, "Never
mind that. I for one will say that he shall share alike with us."
And the others, knowing his plight, agreed as with a single voice.
"Now, then, my lads," Cornelius Gleazen cried, "a word in
confidence: to the village and to the world we'll say that we are
going on a trading voyage. And so we are! All this rest of our
talk," he continued slowly and impressively, "all this rest of our
talk is a secret between you four and me and God Almighty." He
brought his great fist down on the desk with a terrific bang. "If
any one of you four men--I don't care a tinker's damn which
one--lets this story leak, I'll kill him."
At the time I did not think that he meant it; since then I have come
to think that he did.