University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER V.
SECRET PLOTTINGS—THE FROG HUNTER—MUSHROOMS AND PATTY
PANS.

We have seen that the appearance of Bill Dizzle, the frog
hunter, at Mrs. Winkle's, with the beautiful tom-cat, put an
immediate end to the game of whist. Miss Griselda Gusset
departed immediately after, and was met a few steps from
Mrs. Winkle's door by Ralph Roland, who drew her arm
through his and led her into the obscurity under a large sycamore-tree
that stood on the opposite side of the street.

“Well, Gusset,” said Roland, in a low voice, pausing under
the great tree, “is my peace truly made with the infernal old
maid? Bill Dizzle says so, but he don't know always what
he says.”

“It is, indeed. But why have you taken such pains to
please her? You don't wish to marry her.”

“Marry her! No—but you know Lucy is the most charming
creature in the world, and as the family in Babbleton are
likely to become dependent on the old maid, it will follow that
Miss Wilsome's caprices shall be respected by her niece.”

“But, really, are you in love with Lucy?”

“Desperately!”

“And Virginia?”

“Quite as deeply!”

“You are a Turk! But you can't marry them both.”

“Leave that to me. I believe Virginia Oakdale is in
love with Walter, and Lucy with this mysterious Lowe—a
fellow low enough, I doubt not, polished as he is in manners.
Now, my happiness depends upon the utter frustration of the
hopes and calculations of them all—and you must aid me, as
I am aiding you.”

“What have you done for me?”

“I rode to the Emperor's to-night just after his startling
cannonading. He was in one of his finest humors; and when
he asked if all the good people of Babbleton were not abusing
him, I told him you were delighted with his military celebrations,
and only regretted you were not a man to join him, and

share the pleasure of fighting all of Bonaparte's battles over
again.”

“What did he say to that?”

“Gad, he said you were the only national woman he
knew, and that if he were ten years younger he would marry
you.”

“He did? Did he say that to you?”

“Certainly—and he'll say the same thing the next time
he meets you, if his sister or sister-in-law be not present to
intimidate him. It is singular that one so indomitable and
self-willed in the field, should be so pusillanimous and impressible
in the house, when plied by the women.”

“But what did you say, when he made that remark?”

“Oh, I told him that he was quite young enough; that
no doubt you would accept such an offer, and if you did, he
would possess a meek and sympathizing coadjutor in his
wife.”

“I thank you, Mr. Roland—and I will assist you in all
your innocent love schemes to the utmost of my poor
ability.”

“One good turn deserves another, you know; and I rely
upon your superior understanding to find out something about
this Mr. Lowe, which may be of service to me. Oh, I forgot!
The great Napoleon, learning that his sister has arrived, is to
make amends for some old affront, by inviting a party to play
whist at his house. I have arranged it so that you shall be
there, to make up the game. I detest it myself, and the old
gentleman cannot be relied upon. So I fear this infernal
Lowe will also be required.”

“Miss Wilsome will have him for her partner.”

“I feared it. I might get Col. Oakdale—but his hard
swearing and sudden impulses are not to be trusted.”

“How would old Mr. Dowley answer?”

“John Dowley? He could hardly be induced to ride
within a mile of the premises. He believes old Winkle is
mad, and should be confined. If the old maid insists upon
having Lowe, she cannot be baulked. But he must be closely
watched. Good-night. I will see the Emperor in the morning,
and cause him to dwell upon the idea of an Empress. I
will tender him my carriage to send for the ladies, You know
it requires four horses to drag his. There will be seats for
four—and you must contrive to occupy one of them.”

They parted, and pursued different directions. And a
third person, who had been listening in an arbor, separated
only by a plank fence from the street, glided into the cottage
to which the garden was attached. This was Lowe's old
housekeeper. She entered the young man's chamber, as she
was privileged to do at all times, without ceremony. Her
master was sitting at a table covered with books and papers,
where he had been writing. Seeing by the excited features of
his old servant that something out of the usual routine of domestic
occurrences was to be communicated, he leaned back
calmly in his great chair and awaited the issue.

The handsome features of Lowe did not undergo the slightest
alteration during the housekeeper's recital, with the exception
of a scarcely perceptible shade on his pale forehead,
flitting momentarily past, when the name of Lucy Winkle was
mentioned in connection with his own.

“You are discreet, Mrs. Edwards,” said Lowe, when she
ceased speaking. “I do not perceive any reason why I should
be disquieted by the surmises of the people, it is the case every
where. One's neighbors would know one's occupation, place
of nativity, means of support, objects and desires. Very well.
If I do not choose to tell them, let them guess. It cannot
annoy me. But it must not affect Miss Winkle's peace of
mind, either. Therefore, Edwards—No. I will remain. She
is a fine lovely girl, and as pure and amiable as lovely. I
have seen Mr. Roland. He is a bad man. Well, I have also
seen roués—often. Like the rest, he is a contriver of stratagems.
What is the name of the dirty-faced boy who delivered
the peace-offering to the aunt?”

“Bill Dizzle, your honor.”

“He, too, is employed by him. Where is he now?”

“In the kitchen with the cook, your honor.”

“I suppose so. The enemy's camp is the place for a spy.
But that lad is not bad by nature. Send him to me.”

The frog-catcher appeared at the door with his invariable
smile, his long locks, and his mud-colored cap on his head.

“Come in, Bill,” said Lowe, “I want a conversation with
you. Sit down. I believe I am your best customer in this
village, eh?”

“They say frogs is nasty!”

“And mushrooms?”

“They're afeard of being pisoned!”

“But you and I know better.'

“And Sargent Blore, and the emperor.”

“Yes. And do we consume all you can procure?”

“The sargent eats a dozen hind-quarters at a time—and
your ooman pays me four dollars a week. He! he! he! how
the butcher would stare if he knowed it! But Mrs. Edards
bound me not to tell. People say you must be poor, you
buy so little, and live in such a little house.”

“Be sure, Bizzle —”

“Dizzle—Biddy calls me Bizzle.”

“Well. Be sure always to make Mrs. Edwards pay you
the money down, so that if we run away, you will lose nothing.”

“I aint afeard. Sargent Blore says he'll pay Mrs. Edards'
debts if she can't. He says he's in love with her,
'cause she is sensible 'nuff to 'preciate frogs and mushroons—”

“The himpudent one-harmed, one-heyed, one-legged himp
of satan!” said Mrs. Edwards, coming in at that moment,
with some dew-moistened roses, and with a face flushed to the
eyebrows.

“Edwards,” said Lowe, smiling, “you must not be angry
with the sergeant for admiring you. You can't prevent it,
and he can't help it.”

“She's gone, like a shot,” said Bill, as the old woman
vanished muttering something to herself.

“You must not say a word about this to the sergeant,
Dizzle.”

“No, sir. If I was to, he'd be dead sure to come and
marry her in spite of herself. I know his natur, sir.”

“Eh? Then you may tell him. I should like to witness
the progress of such a siege. But, Bill, don't Mr. Roland
sometimes throw profitable jokes in your way?”

“He's always paying me for doing something or other.
He's a rich gentleman—and he's good to me and my sister.”

“Your sister?”

“Yes. He let's her have her cabin and patch for nothing.
I stay with her sometimes, and sometimes at the emperor's.
I would like to stay here a little, too, if you've no objection.”

“I have none in the world. But why would you like to
stay here a little?”

“'Cause Patty O'Pan, in the kitchen, is good to me; and

she shows me how to cook frogs in every way—and she knows
a mushroon from a frog-stool—and she lets me buss her.”

“Buss her? What's that? Oh, I recollect. I suppose
that's one of her sauces. But your sister—has she a family?”

“Only one—a little gal. I don't know where it's from, or
how it come there. Them two and me is all.”

“Is she a widow?”

“She wasn't never married, sir, that I knows on.”

“Oh, I forgot that. Then, Mr. Roland likes you to tell
him all the news you hear, and all the things you see, and he
pays you for your trouble?”

“Yes, sir. But Mrs. Edards won't say anything, and
Patty O'Pan don't know nothing.”

“But you can see for yourself.”

“I see only you, and your books, and such things. But
that's not what he wants.”

“What does he want?”

“He wants to find out if you aint a counterfeiter, a
gambler, a robber, a murderer, or something of that sort.”

“And do you think I am any of these, Bill?” asked Lowe,
smiling.

“Blazes! No. You're a gentleman, and a nicer one nor
him.”

“Thank you, Dizzle. There's a dollar. Now remember,
we are to be good friends, and you shall come when you choose
to see my Patty Pan—”

“I called her that once, sir, and she slapped my jaws.”

“O'Pan, then. But you must not repeat my conversation
to him.”

“I won't tell only what you want me to.”

“You may say I am very poor, and can't get any employment.
That will do.”

“La! I saw you pitch out the trout once! and knock
down the ducks right and left as they sailed round! If you'd
only go in partnership with me, and let me sell 'em in the city,
we'd make a fortin!”

“We'll talk that over some other time. Good-by, now.”

Bill bowed unconsciously and withdrew.