University of Virginia Library

6. CHAPTER VI.

It was about six weeks subsequent to the occurrence
of the events last related that a gentleman with a decidedly
foreign air, and wearing a heavy moustache,
called at the mansion of the patroon, and inquired for
General Van Ness. He seemed greatly afflicted on
hearing of his death, and dismounting from the jaded
steed which had evidently borne him no small distance,
demanded to know who was in possession of
the house. He was surrounded, by this time, by a
circle of awe-stricken negroes, whose huge platter
eyes were distended to the last extent, while a brood
of monkey-like children were peering through the
interstices, looking, if possible, still more astonished
and alarmed. The hoarse croak of old Jake at length
found utterance sufficient to reply, in behalf of the
company, that they didn't any of them know anything
there, but that Massa Seth was in yender and could
tell the gemman everything.

“And who the d—l,” said the fierce-looking foreigner,
forgetting his grief, and frightening his whole
auditory a step or two backward, “who the d—l is
Massa Seth? Is there no one here to welcome
Bleecker Van Ness back to his father's house, after
ten long years of absence?”

Old Jake, on hearing this adjuration, ran up and
gave one eager gaze into the stranger's face, and then
stood mouthing horribly at him, without voice, while
every joint in his old palsied frame shook with agitation;
Aunt Dinah performed a feat never before recorded
of any of her race—she fainted outright, and
fell like a feather-bed upon the ground; while the rest
of the troop ran pell-mell in every direction, some
shouting, “A spook!” and others that the day of judgment
had come.

Attracted by the turmoil, Seth made his appearance
first at the window, and then descended into the court,
where, having hastily reproved the slaves, who had
rallied in the distance, he turned courteously to the
stranger, and inquired the cause of the alarm. The
latter at once assumed a more lofty air, and glancing
at the servants who were again clustering around him.

replied that their affright could scarcely be considered
a matter of surprise. “I,” he continued, “am Bleecker
Van Ness, the only son and rightful heir of the late
patroon of Kenterhook. How long shall I stand, sir,
surrounded by menials, awaiting a stranger's invitation
to enter my own doors?”

Hurriedly apologizing by saying that astonishment
had held him speechless—for very much amazed was
Seth—he immediately led the way into his study,
which both having entered, he locked and double-locked
the door; but conscious that the listening
negroes were already piled three tiers deep on the
outside, he at once conducted the stranger across the
room into an adjoining bed-room. The door of this
apartment he also hastily closed, and then turned
upon his visiter a face bearing the marks of the last
stages of suffocation.

“You'll do,” he said, “you'll do,” chuckling and
choking as he grasped the hand of the other, and
then, throwing himself upon the bed, he buried his
face in the pillow, and shook like a stranded grampus.

“Don't you think I'm rather too dark?” said the

stranger, looking in the mirror at his sun-burnt features.

“By no means,” replied Seth; “why, man, haven't
you been six years a prisoner in Algiers?”

“Oh, aye, I forgot that—so I have—and deuced hot
work it was, too, toiling on the quays under that broiling
sun.”

“Of course it was,” said Seth.

The two friends now sat down for further conference
and consultation, and for many days succeeding,
they were busily engaged together, at times poring
over maps and charts, and at times perusing books of
travels. The stranger proved an apt scholar, and
with Seth's aid, soon acquired a valuable addition to
his stock of useful knowledge. The delighted slaves
readily recognized him as their young master, and he,
in turn, remembered them all, not excepting some
youngsters of nine or ten years.

The new patroon did not, however, deem it prudent
to make any very extensive draughts as yet upon
the allegiance of his surrounding tenantry. His modesty
indeed extended so far, that he even denied himself
for the present to the few visiters whom the

rumor of his unexpected advent attracted to his house.
But in the presence of Seth and the domestics he was
more pretending, and seemed desirous of practising
some of those airs of authority and station which his
future dignities might require him to exhibit, and
which would indicate to the observer that he had
been “to the manor born.”

“Look at dat now,” exclaimed the sable Josh, half
surlily, and half in admiration, as booted and spurred,
and flourishing a fanciful riding-whip, his young
master made his appearance, and after much scolding
at the imperfect grooming of his horse, (or rather of
Livingston's choicest steed,) mounted and rode dashingly
off—“jes look at dat—he aint rubbed down, aint
he? and he shining like beeswax all over. But golly
gosh!” continued the negro after a pause, with his
eyes fixed wonderingly on the flying steed, “how
Massa Bleecker do ride—how stiddy he set—see him
go, Quash—cross de bridge—over de creek—troo de
grove—by jingo! Massa Harry no ride like dat, any
how; yhah! yhah! yhah!” and an echoing plaudit
arose from the whole sable fraternity.

“That is really a very respectable sort of an animal,”

exclaimed the new patroon when, after an
hour's absence, he had returned at the same rapid
pace, and dismounted among the officious slaves,
where Seth also chanced to be present; “quite respectable
for this new country, but you should mount
a real Barbary once, Mr. Van Corlear, to know what
riding is—a coal-black Barbary, with head erect and
flying mane, and flashing eyes, and flaring nostrils,
and feet that you'd swear didn't touch the ground once
in—”

An expressive glance from Seth interrupted this
beautiful rhapsody, and brought it to a rather lame
termination.

“Not that I ever rode one myself, of course, being
a prisoner there,” continued the other, “but I've seen
the Moors ride, you know, very often.”

“You'll do,” repeated Seth, once more, sotto voce,
as followed by the admiring eyes of the negroes, the
friends withdrew into the house; “You'll do—but—I
say!”

“What, Seth?”

“Do you know what is in that formidable looking
box, locked and strapped and cased in canvass?”

“Certainly not.”

“Nor I,” replied Van Corlear, smiling; “but it
came from London about six weeks ago; the ship
that brought it had a long passage, or it would have
arrived before the time which was set for Harry's
marriage last spring. As it is—”

“He knows nothing of its arrival?”

“Nothing—and cares less.”

“It may be placed in my room,” was the grave
reply. “This is the key, I think; there are doubtless
some articles of wearing apparel which will require
airing;—in fact, now that I reflect upon it, I believe
I ordered these things myself, just before I left London;—it's
all right—all right.”