University of Virginia Library

2. CHAPTER II.

The confusion attendant on settling for the passage
having subsided, and the trouble about the machinery
being pretty well over, I returned to my favorite station
by the fair quakeress; where I had an opportunity of
studying Middleton yet more at my leisure. He stood
near me, leaning over the rail and playing with the bolt
of the gangway—I spoke to him twice about the danger,
and he thanked me, though he persisted nevertheless,
and at one time the slightest lurch of the vessel would
have precipitated him into the sea—yet there he stood,
watching the beautiful countenance before him, the
placid mouth and the happy eyes turned up toward
her dear old grandfather, and occasionally wandering
toward mine, (though I am sure she never saw me
after Middleton crossed her path,) whenever he appeared
in a revery, or was looking another way. I
saw now that he was rather tall, and very thin; a decided
southerner in his carriage, indolent, haughty and
graceful—somewhat swarthy too about the uncovered
part of his face, with a very intellectual forehead—
the temples were absolutely transparent—a woman's
mouth, and the most effeminate-looking hands I ever
saw. I never was half so much puzzled before—what
to make of him, I could'nt tell for a long while. His
black joyful eyes and haughty lip, did'nt belong far
enough north for the fine chisseling of the other features,
and the singular beauty of his language. But
when I discovered, as I did before we parted, that he

was born of a New-England mother, remarkable for
her beauty and accomplishment, and that his father
was a Georgia planter, who died in a duel, which resulted
in the premature birth of his only child—this
very youth—and that after travelling in the south of
Europe, he had been educated in the north for the very
purpose of counteracting his fiery temper, and fortifying
his brave lineage by other and better principles
than he had imbibed in the south, I had a key to the
whole mystery; and from that hour the heart of
Gerard Middleton lay naked before me. I read it like
a map.

Finding I had no business there—the grand-father
being fully competent for the protection of the
child—I bore away for the walking down-easter—the
man with a nose like a sword-fish, and begged him,
half out breath already with no less than four attempts
to bring him to before I succeeded, to have compassion
on me, and tell me what the—gulp!—he meant
by the caution he had favored me with, so early in the
day. But he only walked so much the faster,
evading all my questions so adroitly, and with so much
ease to himself—now by a swing of his coat-tail, which
struck me so heavily as to satisfy me that he carried
weight, like John Gilpin's nag, and that people had
good reason for keeping out of his way, and now by a
flourish of his enormous pocket-handkerchief, that I
began to feel rather vexed with him.

In a con-siderable of a hurry jess now, said he—as if
he expected to arrive at Baltimore so much the sooner
for every step he took, though we lay at the time—

Smashin' round like a house a fire a—a—a, he added
passing me so swiftly that I lost a part of his remark,
and he the whole of my answer. And when I lay too,
waiting to fire into him as he wore upon his heel or
stood away upon a new tack; another and another
word, accompanied by a significant gesture, reached
my ear, and then—away he would go again! right
before the wind! wing and wing, all sails out, the
ballast shifting at every roll, and talking as fast as
ever, though I could'nt make out one word in forty.

No time to talk now! dont ye see where we air?—
right in the jaws o' the inimy; have to fight yit, I
vum if we dont! no runnin' away here, rot an' tarnation
seize the everlastin' steam-boats!; you seem to
be a leetle ryled yourself—dont wonder—dod burn an'
butter my hide; if you ever ketch me aboard o' steam-boat
agin, that's all! I know what you want! Stan'
out o' my way—I'm gettin' ready for a jump—

A jump! what the devil do you mean?—

Yis, a jump—right overboard! smash! the moment
I see the inimy; you may do as you like, you
and the rest o' the passengers, but I'm agoin' to swim
ashore—hullow! look o' there!—what's that-o'-comin'
up there! Aint them the boats?—I say, Cap'n
Trip! hullow, Cap'n Trip! aint them the inimy's
boats?

Captain Trip had been reconnoitering before; and
arriving aft with his spy-glass, he assured us we had
nothing to fear from that quarter, even if it should
prove to be the boats of the enemy; as long before
they could pull up with us, we should be at work under
a double pressure.

Dont believe a word on't, said the Yankee—no
business to come out, an' I toll him so when I wanted

to walk to Havre de Grace—meachin' feller! never
was half so mad afore—ryled all over, inside and out.

Ryled?

To be sure!—ryled—ructious—there ye go agin!
right off the reel, jest as eff you never heerd o' bein
ryled afore? Hullow there! I say you, mister!
bawling away like a two-and-forty-pounder at a mulatto
who was righting the baggage forward with a handspike,
and trying to get some of the best of it under
cover. Mind how ye jounce that air chist about!
Have to pay for all ye break o' mine, I tell ye now!
An' I say, neighbor, (turning to me) I take you for
a witness. Mind what ye're at now! never seed
sich a feller since I breathed the breath o' life; no
sprawl in ye—great slammerkin' good for nothin'—
there now! What did I tell ye!

One of the boxes had pitched over upon a black fellow
below, who cleared himself with a spring and a
howl, and began leaping about the deck with his foot in
his hand, his enormous mouth as wide open as it would
stretch, and the tears running down his cheeks—

There now! and away bounced the Yankee to his
relief; catching him up in his arms as if he had been
a child, scolding him heartily all the time; and laying
him out over the bales of goods, without appearing to
see the strange faces that gathered about him, or to
care a fig for their profound astonishment, he began
pulling and hauling the leg about, now this way and
now that, and wrenching the foot first one way and
then another, as if he would twist it off, while the
sufferer lay grinding his teeth and uttering an occasional
boo-hoo!—boo-hoo!

Boohoo!—boohoo!—cried the Yankee, who had

now satisfied himself as to the state of the case.
What's the use o' boo-hooin, I tell ye! Keep a stiff
upper lip; no bones broke—don't I know? Seventh
son of a seventh son—sarved ye right though—aint
hurt half bad enough—never hearn tell o' the rain
water doctor? some calls him the screw-augur doctor,
an' some the steam-doctor—boo-oo—boo-hoo—what
are ye afeard on? Got the stuff till cure ye, if ye'd
jammed your leg off—take the bruise right out by the
roots—look here! whipping out a large box, with a
lead-colored pigment, blue pill or opodeldoc perhaps,
or perhaps the scraping of a carriage-wheel. That's
the stuff for corns, I tell ye! capital too for razorstraps!
addressing himself now to one and now to another
of the bystanders, and either by accident or design
so as to hit rather hard here and there, and raise
a good-natured laugh at the expense of a little somebody
with pinched feet, and a cross-looking old woman
with a beard. Clear grit as ever you see! gut sech a
thing as a jacknife about ye marm?—to the latter, who
stood stooping over the box with a most inquisitive
air, eying him through her golden-bowed spectacles,
and occasionally touching the contents of the box, and
then smelling her fingers in a way that he did'nt appear
to relish—with a red-haired girl in very tight shoes
on one arm, and a sleepy-looking coxcomb with mustachios
on the other—clear grit, I tell ye!—take a
notch out of a broad axe!—whoa! to the nigger,
who-a! there, there!—best furnitoor-polish ever you
come across, mam. There, there, stiddy—-stiddy!—don't
kick—-plastering the foot all over with his furniture-polish,
and wrapping it up with a bandage of loose
oakum—ah, hah! begin to feel nicely aready, don't
it, mister?

O, yessa massa, groaned the poor negro—him peel
berry moodch nicaly; tankee massa—berry mudch—
boo-hoo!—gorrigh!

Told ye so! slickest stuff ever you see, aint it mister?
snatching up a rag of tarred canvass and a bunch
of spun-yarn that somebody held near—good for the
lockjaw—tried it on myself; nobody talks faster 'an I
do now, do they marm? fuss chop too for yeller-fever,
an moths, and lip-salve, an bed-bugs—try a leetle
on't, mister, (to the youth in moustachios) or maybe
you'd like a box or yer own—some call it a new sort
o' tooth paste with more varter in't than nineteen sea
hosses; only a quarter dollar a box at retail, or two
dollars a dozen box in all, and take your pay in most
any thing marm, (to the red haired girl) boxes worth
half the money, and more too, marm—take 'em back at
double price, if you aint satisfied, if I ever come across
you agin—sell ye the privilege right out for any o'
the states, so't your son there could make his fortin'
by sellin' it for bears-greese; don't kick, I tell ye!—
to tho nigger—sartain cure for the itch—help yourself,
mister—why if you'll believe me, but I know you wunt,
I've seen it cure a whole neighborhood so privately,
they did'nt know it themselves—chincough—striped-fever
and back-bitin' to boot, only by rubbin' it over
the minister's wig—mortal fine stuff for the hair!—
turns it all manner o' colors—there! letting the limb
go and lifting the poor man up with a bandage on it
about as big as a moderate-sized pillow—see there!
enough's enough, I tell ye—boo-hoo—boo-hoo! If
yer don't stop your blartin' an' boo-hooin, you'll
take cold inside, and that'll take all the varter out o'
the greese—and then, arter that's done, I defy yer to

stop—I call it greese; but its no more greese than you
air, (to a very fat man who had been laughing at all
the others in succession—it was their turn now) an'
what's more (to the nigger) your foot 'll turn all the
colors of a peacocks'-tail.

How would it answer in a case of yellow fever?
enquired the fat man.

Not knowin' cant say—suppose you try it with a
question or two yourself? But I've known it tried
out an' out with the slow fever?

On a four-wheeled one-horse dearbon, hey? said
somebody near me. Ah, and what's more, on a fever
an' ager; and it cured 'em both afore five o'clock, an'
gut all cleared away by supper time.

And ready for another, hey? continued the same
voice.

Here the poor negro began to hobble off, saying as
he moved away—Tanka massa, tanka berry mush.

I say tho', mister, cried the Yankee, calling after
him—might ask what's to pay; or buy a box o' the
hair-powder—that's the least you can do.

Why lor a bressa massa; massa so good, he neber
tink o' takin' notin' o' poor nigger, hey?

Try me.

I sholl dat! cried the poor fellow, beginning to
whistle, possum up a gum tree—ope he go! ope he go!
with one hand foraging at will in the pockets of his old
tarred trowsers, and the other, perhaps out of sheer
sympathy, sprawling about in the matted wool over-head,
the fingering whereof by a nigger implies great
inward perplexity.

Meanwhile the down-easter had got under way
again; giving me a nod as he went by, to make chase.

But I had satisfied myself on that point before—his
long legs were altogether too much for me; and my
only chance appeared to lie in raking him as he yawed,
or waylaying him on a return passage. O, that you
could see him! his newly-paved boots falling on the
deck at every step like a machine driving piles, or a
beetle shod with sole-leather; and his pockets rattling
as he drove by, hitting first one person and then another,
like a newly-freighted waggon finding its way
downhill backwards without a driver.

All in good part! said he, talking faster than ever
mortal talked before, with the wind right in his teeth,
so that I lost three words out of four, and had to guess
at the fourth. Forgit and forgive, that's my way,
which if you dont git swapped out o' somthin' hansum
I miss my guess, that's all! can't you see! wears a
putty clever coat to be sure; but when ye git a chance,
jest take a peep into the in'ards or that air umberill o'
his'n with a cloth over it—why its nothin' in this world
but a frame o' sticks 'at he swapped for at French-town—been
whipped into hoss hair long ago, if it
had'nt been kept for a trade. But he knows how the
cat jumps, I tell ye—cute as nutmeg—brought up on
ten-penny nails, pynted at both eends; why that air
hat o' his'n 't you see there, with a new hat-case, bran
fire new, see how he keeps muchin' it—whenever you
look that way; why that's nothin' arter all but an old
three quarter dollar swap, with the wool off, an' more
spots on the brim than you could try out in half a
year—

No!

As true as you're alive—or shake a stick at between
now an' everlastin'.

Pray tell me, said I, as he hove in sight again,—
what I have to fear from that—ah—he was already
out of hearing.

Why as to that question, said he, some five
minutes after, when we happened to cross one another's
route within speaking distance; my old
granfather, he said to me, says he, more 'n forty
years ago—here he made a full stop for a moment
with his eye upon two other negroes who were at work
with the baggage, and then sweeping by me as before,
I lost the remainder of his reply; and the next words
that reached me were,—don't want yer money; only
did it to try yer—not knowin' cant say—never thought
much o' Jedediah—do you chaw?

I stared and was about to answer, but I was too late.
He had gone by, with the poor old negro halting after
him and holding out a handful of change. We were
under way once more, and there was a great bustle
midships—and I felt the breeze blowing fresh—and
heard the sail run up with a pleasure that I wondered
at. If I had been becalmed for a month on a voyage
to Europe I could not have enjoyed the motion of the
vessel more—springing forward with new life and a
preternatural vigor, as the sea roughened with
the evening breeze and gradually darkened about our
path, over which the white foam poured with a deluge
of lustre from our wheels and prow.

I had lost myself entirely again, and was wandering
away I know not where—over the dim blue waters;
among the bright isles of the sea—far, far away, when
I was brought suddenly to my senses by a familiar
slap on the back. My teeth rattled again at the salutation.
It was the down-easter. I say, give us a nip

o' that air snuff o' yourn, 't I see ye have, down below
there, will ye? said he, rounding to as he finished,
and resting on his heel for a moment like a fine ship
that has been struck by a flaw in the midst of a capital
manoeuvre. Putty good o' the sort, hey, what there
is o'nt—an' enough on't too, such as it is; what d'ye
give a bladder?

A bladder! Oh—ah—I understand you now; I
dont buy it by the bladder;

O, you don't, do ye? how then?

By the box.

By the box! you don't say so!

But I do say so.

Oh—ah—whoolsale? Comes cheaper when you
lay it in by the box, hey? Pulling out a piece of ragged
brown-paper from his coat pocket—a store house
of odds and ends, of slops and fragments, blackball and
wafer-boxes, with a bunch of twine, a gimlet or two,
and a leather strap; and having spread the paper in
the palm of his hand, he began helping himself pinch
after pinch, till he had nearly emptied the box and
filled the paper; when seeing what he took for a
beetle or a cockroach at the bottom, he dropped the
last pinch as if he had burnt his fingers, and cried out
—lord a massy! what is it!

Where! where!—cried two or three persons near
me, all speaking together, and looking toward the
quarter where the British were expected. No wonder
they were half frightened out of their wits; I should
have been frightened too, had I not perceived the cause
of his consternation, as he stood pointing at the box,
and making the most horrible faces.

O—that's a bean, said I.

You dont say so! what's it good for?

To scent the snuff.

Why how ye talk!—pulling it slowly out with his
forefinger and thumb, and feeling it cautiously—
Would'nt a cockroach do? The man evidently had
his misgivings, and like a true down-easter, was trying
to turn it off with a little over-acting; and then after
eyeing it awhile at arm's length, so as to make every
body that stood near doubt whether he was not pretending
ignorance, he began to rub it slowly and cautiously
over the tip-end of his tremendous nose—I
never did see such a nose! that's a fact—it was about
the color and very much the size of a long-necked
winter-squash—the more I saw of it the more I was
troubled, and I saw more and more of it every time I
looked that way—no, no, I never did see such a nose!
and then, having smelt it, he gave it a bite with his fore
teeth—I'm not speaking of the nose now—heaven
forbid!—that belongs to another paragraph—and then
before I could possibly interfere, with his grinders;
my attention being diverted at the time by a half-smothered
girlish giggle. On turning my head, I
found all eyes upon him, as he stood there making
mouths at the bean, preparatory to trying the flavor in
the way mentioned above. I was ready to burst with
laughter and vexation, till I saw that she understood
the matter properly; though I was not altogether
satisfied I confess, when I turned that way and saw
her thinking of the stranger with the passionate lip
and the imperious eye. That she was thinking of him
I knew the moment I saw her face; and she knew that
I knew it; for she never lifted her eyes to mine afterwards,
but sat there trembling, with one snowy

hand lying so quietly in her lap, and the other stretched
out toward me so helplessly, that I longed to take
it into mine with the clasp of a brother—of an elder
not a younger brother—and say to her: be of good
cheer maiden! I will never betray thee! But how could
I? It was not yet dark; and we were not alone; and
perhaps if I had—for such things have been—perhaps
I might have had my ears boxed for my sympathy, or
a small sword flourished athwart my eyes, brother or
no brother, some cold frosty morning. It makes my
teeth chatter to think of it.