University of Virginia Library

20. CHAPTER XX.

I accordingly determined to urge Balcombe
to reconsider his scruples, and to endeavour
to obtain the token from James Scott at once.
He agreed to make the experiment, and we accordingly
sought James, whom we found in my
room closely engaged with a book. Balcombe
now told him that on the next morning he was
to meet Montague, who would then comply with
the proper conditions, so as to entitle himself,

according to Mary's instructions, to receive the
parcel intended for him.

“You have it about you?” inquired Balcombe.

“Oh, yes, sir,” said he; showing, at the same
time, a small paper, which looked as if it might
contain such a little casket as is commonly used to
hold a single ring. It was tied up with several
threads of silk, all of which were secured at the
intersection by a seal.

“I will take it, then, James,” said Balcombe,
carelessly, “and deliver it to Mr. Montague, when
he has done the needful on his part.”

The young man hesitated, and said,

“I am afraid that will not be right, sir. My
sister made me promise that I would not give this
to any one upon earth but Montague.”

“But, James, she has committed the whole negotiation
to me; and it is therefore necessary for
me to have this casket, that I may give it to Montague
according to our agreement.”

“He shall have it, sir; my orders are to give it
to him, as soon as you say the word, and not before;
and I will do it. I will go with you, and
when you tell me to give it to him, he shall have
it.”

“Surely,” said I, “you can trust Mr. Balcombe.”

“I certainly can,” replied he; “and I hope Mr.
Balcombe does not suppose that there is any distrust
of him in my conduct.”

“None at all, my dear boy,” said Balcombe;
“I understand you perfectly.”

“But what if I tell you,” said I, “that that
casket is of more importance to me than to Montague,
and that I have a better right to it than he
or any other person.”

The young man started, stared at me in amazement,
then looked doubtingly at Balcombe, and
said,

“No; I will not believe it. This was no plan
of yours, Mr. Balcombe, to get this deposite into
your hands, in order that any one but Montague
might obtain it.”

“Indeed it was not, James.”

“How is this, then, sir?” said he, turning upon
me with some fierceness. But his manner became
immediately mild, and even tender. “I know
you,” he continued, “as Mr. Balcombe's friend,
but I know you in no other character; and I cannot
take it kindly of you, sir, to wish to beguile me
into a breach of trust. As to any interest you have
in the matter, I don't see it, and if I did I should be
but the more on my guard.”

“He is right, nevertheless, James,” said Balcombe.
“He has a great interest in the matter;
he has been very much wronged by this same
Montague; and the possession of that parcel
would enable him to right himself.”

“I am sorry for it, sir; and, as I am sure my
poor sister would not wrong any man, I wish you

had it. But my word is passed to her, and I shall
not put it into any hands but Mr. Montague's.”

“Are you satisfied?” said Balcombe to me.

“I am,” said I, holding out my hand to Scott;
“and I respect your scruples, though I suffer by
them.”

“I don't understand how it is, sir,” said he,
taking my hand with quiet indifference. “If you
are wronged, I hope you'll get justice. I only
wish you had not tried to make me break my
word.”

“You would not blame him, James, if you knew
all,” said Balcombe; “and you must be friends.”

“I must forget all my sister has told me about
you, sir, and all I have seen, before I refuse my
friendship to any friend of yours.”

Saying this, he turned to me, and held out his
hand again with an air of frank cordiality. I took
it, and we exchanged a grasp of good-will on his
part and admiration on mine.

I now saw that, for the present at least, it was
best to await the result of Montague's machinations,
and try to turn them against him. I accordingly
calmed myself, and resolved to pass the time
as agreeably as I could. I found that my hospitable
entertainer had invited a party to dine with me,
and it was my duty to rally my spirits. How far
I succeeded, I know not. The day, however,
passed off pleasantly, and I was willing to believe
that I had not made myself unacceptable to my
new acquaintances. In the evening we had a

dance to the fiddle of an old negro, and separated
with good feelings and high spirits, about midnight.

I had just retired to my room, when I heard
Keizer's whistle giving notice of his presence; and
soon after Balcombe appeared, half dressed, accompanied
by this trusty henchman.

“What news, John?” said he.

“Nothing very good, I'm afraid, sir; but I
thought I'd just come and tell you all about it, and
then you'd be the best judge. You know you told
me I need not come to you, if Montague made me
any direct offer, because you said you'd know
what it was; but then I thought it looked a little
suspicious, and was afraid, maybe, he might be
trying to fool me; so, you see, I'll just tell you the
straight of it all. You know he was to go to see
me at the camp to-day, and, sure enough, he was
there. And so he tells me, first, there was a certain
man that had some of his property, and refused
to give it up, unless he would pay him a power of
money.

“`Then,' says I, `why don't you sue him for it?'

“`Why,' says he, `I cannot prove anything
about it; and he would not let me know anything
of it; only it's worth a great deal to me, and of
little or no use to him.'

“`Well,' says I, `and what do you mean to do
about it?'

“`Why, that's what I don't rightly know,' says
he. `He has promised to meet me at a certain

place, and give it up to me; but then he says I
must pay him down a large sum of money on the
nail, and give him my bond for three times as much
more.'

“`Well,' says I, `every man knows his own
business best; but, if it was me, I'd see him d—d
before I'd give him one cent.'

“`I'd rather you wouldn't swear about it,' says
he; `but you may be sure I don't like it. But
that is not the worst of it,' says he. `There's two
of them; and they are to meet me together; and
when they get me there, in the woods, by themselves,
I don't think they'd be a bit too good to
take my money and keep my property too.'

“`Then,' says I, `I guess that you want somebody
to go with you.'

“`Something so,' says he. And then he claps
to thinking, and he rolls up the whites of his eyes,
just like he was going to say grace; and says he,
talking mighty serious and solemn, says he, `Would
it not be a righteous deed, in the sight of God, if
they do make such an attempt, to turn the tables
on them, and take my property without paying
for it?'

“Now, you see, colonel,” continued Keizer, “the
minute I heard him talk that way, I knew he was
dubious of me. Because, you see, sir, Mr. Montague
knows me before to-day; and he knows how
to do business with such as me, and he knows that
is not the way.”

“How so, John?” said Balcombe.

“Why, sir, in such business as this, it will never
do for one man to fool another, nor to tell him anything
but the naked truth; because, when a fellow
has a ticklish job in hand, he ought to know exactly
how the land lies. You see, sir, it's just like what
the lawyer said to the thief. Says he, `If you
don't tell me the truth, how am I to know how to
tell lies for you?”'

“And why did you think he was deceiving you,
John?”

“Because I knew who he was talking about;
and I knew that all that, about your wanting to
make him pay for his own, was a lie. And as to
his thinking that you would want to rob him, Lord
bles you, sir! Mr. Montague knows what an
honest man is; and he has no more notion of that,
than he would have of robbing himself.”

“You reasoned the matter well, John. And
what answer did you make?”

“Oh, I told him nothing in life would be easier
than to turn the tables on the fellows; and, if he
wanted help, why, there was I and the Indians.”

“And what said he?”

“Why, he made believe he had not thought
about it before, and he had no time to stay, but I
must go to see him to-night at Jones's.”

“And did you go?”

“Yes, sir; and then it was that I saw greater
cause to think that maybe he is a little suspicious.
You see I went there about dusk, and they had
been starving at the campmeeting all day, and

were just getting their dinner. So, as I was not
hungry, I sits down in the porch, at the front door;
and they were in the diningroom; and the door
into the passage was open, and I could hear all
the clash of their knives and forks; but they could
not see me. For a while they were too busy to
talk; but, at last, they seemed to slack eating, and
Montague, says he,

“`Brother Jones, do you know what sort of a
man John Keizer is?'

“`I cannot say I do, brother Montague,' says
Jones; `but many people give him a desperate
bad name. But I rather think he don't deserve it
all; because,' says he, `there's Colonel Balcombe
knows him better than anybody else, and he trusts
him in his business, and seems to have the greatest
confidence in him. And more than that,' says he,
`the colonel has employed him to buy cattle, and
horses, and mules for him; and he has bought of
me, and, so far as I could see, he never offered to
take the least advantage of either of us. There's
worse men than Keizer. There's that Sam Todd,
that was here this morning, and his brother, ten
times as bad.'

“`And how came he and Balcombe so thick?'
says Montague.

“`Oh,' says Jones, `they have been through the
rubbers together, in the war, and in the Indian
country, and in the Spanish country; and whenever
Keizer is in trouble any way, the colonel is
always ready to help him.'

“So they talked on a while longer,” continued
John; “and by this time it was getting dark, and
they were done their dinner. So, presently, all
was still; and then I heard Jones ask brother Montague
to return thanks. So I steps off a few steps
from the house, and then turns round and walks
right back and meets them in the porch, as they
came out to cool themselves; so they had no
chance to think I had heard a word. So we how-d'yed
all round; and Montague, he had not much
to say for a while, and it was so dark I could not
see how he looked. But after a while Jones went
into the house, and then says Montague to me, in
a sort of a whisper like, says he,

“`Can you stay here to-night?'

“`No,' says I, `I must go back to my camp
about midnight.'

“`Well,' says he, `you can stay till then.
There is a bed in my room, and you can tumble it,
and then go away after everybody's asleep, and
people won't know but what you went off after
light; because,' says he, `I sleep in an outhouse
there, off to itself.'

“`Well,' says I, `I have no objection.'

“So after a while Jones comes out, and Montague
tells him he had business with me, and
wanted me to stay all night, that we might talk it
over in bed.

“`To be sure,' says Jones, `brother Montague,
I shall be glad to accommodate you, and glad of
Mr. Keizer's company too.'

“So then we talked a while about one thing and
another, and then they had prayers, and we all
went to bed. When we got into our room, he sot
and studied a spell; and at last says he,

“`Do you know Colonel Balcombe?'

“`I guess I do,' says I; `I've known him longer
and better than any man in the whole country.'

“`Then he is a particular friend of your's?'

“`As to the matter of friendship,' says I, `that's
what I don't know so much about. It is not any
great deal I have to do with anybody, except in
the way of business; though I suppose if a poor
fellow like me has any friends, Colonel Balcombe
is as likely to be my friend as anybody else. But
I never calculate on nobody's friendship.'

“`Then, I suppose,' says he, `nobody need calculate
on your's?'

“`Why, no, sir,' says I, `not to say rightly
friendship; because, you see, sir, I cannot afford
it. But I live by my business, Mr. Montague;
and I know,' says I, `the way to do that, is to be
as true as my old rifle, that always puts the ball
right where I hold it; and them that primes and
loads me well,' says I, `sir, has only just to point
me right, and they can give a right good guess
where I'll hit.”'

“That was well said, John,” said Balcombe.

“I, God! sir,” said Keizer, “I was obliged to be
right foxy with him, and I thought that speech
sorter satisfied him; so says he,

“`Suppose it should be Colonel Balcombe that
I am to meet to-morrow evening?'

“`Damn the odds!' says I.

“With that he looks at me desperate hard, as if
he was going to scold again about my swearing;
but after a while his face brightened up like a bad
dollar rubbed over with quicksilver; and says he,

“`Well, come again at sunrise, and I will walk
out with you, and show you the place where we
are to meet; and then,' says he, `you can fix things
so as to lie close, till you see the time to show
yourself.'

“And with that,” continued Keizer, “I came
away, to let you judge for yourself how the matter
stands.”

“All right, John,” said Balcombe; “all exactly
right. It seems a little strange that he should be
willing to depend on you; but he thinks you as
great a villain as himself, and he would betray his
own father. But all is right, John; and you must
get to rest, and be ready to meet him in the morning.”

“No fear of that, sir; I am not apt to sleep too
sound when Indians are about.”

Balcombe now conducted him out, and returned.

“What think you of that fellow?” said he.

“I think,” said I, “that the twasome of you
would prove a match for the devil, and the best
imp in his dominions.”

“Perhaps so,” said he. “If he is not belied, I

should have the same advantage over him that I
have over Montague.”

“How so?”

“Being all evil, without any admixture of good,
I could calculate on him. Had not this been such
a villain as is not to be found again out of hell, he
would have foiled me, through fear that John's
gratitude might bind him to me. Good-night.”