 | CHAPTER VII. Dukesborough tales |  |
7. CHAPTER VII.
To-morrow truly will I meet with thee.”
Midsummer-Night's Dream.
Mr. Pea writhed and chafed under his oath. He begged his Georgy
to let him tell somebody. He swore another oath — that he should
die if he didn't. He did tell it there in the house several times to
imaginary auditors, after looking out of the doors and windows to see
if no real ones were near. Even when he was out of doors, he went
tumultuously. Georgiana became uneasy.
“Pap, are you going to run distracted again?”
“Georgy, ef I don't believe I am, I'll — you may kill me!”
Georgiana had to yield. She wished to see Mr. Spouter upon a
little matter of business connected with Mr. Slack, and she concluded
to consent for him to be sent for and her father to inform him of what
she saw he must inevitably tell somebody. The old man was extremely
thankful, but he wanted to make a request.
“Georgy, you must let me send for Triplet. I've got a good joke on
Triplet: a powerful joke on him. And he's a officer, Georgy, too,” he
added, seriously. “Things like them, when they ar told, ought to be
told befo a officer, Georgy. Triplet is a officer. This case, an a leetle
more, an it would a got into cote; an as Triplet ar a officer, he ought to
be here, in cose.”
Georgiana consented on hearing this last argument. But she expressly
enjoined upon her father, that at any period of his disclosures,
when she called upon him to stop, he would have to do it. He promised
to obey; and the servant was sent into Dukesborough with the request
that Messrs. Spouter and Triplet should come out the next morning on
particular business. Georgiana knew fully what she, who was her
friend, but now, alas! abandoned, was thinking about, and therefore she
was included in the summons.
Early the next morning the party arrived. Miss Spouter alighted in
great agitation, rushed through the front room into Georgiana's, who
was there waiting for what she knew was to happen, looked all around
as if she was expecting to find somebody besides Georgiana, fell upon
her in the old way, pronounced her pardon, and then demanded to be
told all about it. Oh, my! Dreadful! Did ever! Vain and foolish
man! How did Georgiana feel?
Georgiana led her into her father's room, which also served for the
parlor. She was surprised and annoyed to find Mr. Pucket there with
the other gentlemen. Mr. Pucket had, somehow, gotten the wind of
it, and said to himself that he didn't know what might happen. He
had been told by an old lawyer that the only way for a young man to
succeed at the bar was to push himself forward. So he determined
to go, and he went. Uncle Ben was glad of it. He was going, for
the first time in his life, to make a speech; and he wished as large an
audience as possible. No, no; in cose there wern't no intrusion, and
no nothin of the sort, nor nothin else.
Georgiana sat very near her father.
Then Uncle Ben opened his mouth, and began:—
“You see, gentul-men, it was all my fault, from the fust. After
Georgy seed him she didn't think much of him. She said she didn't
keer about marryin nohow, and ef she did, she wanted it to be to a
Southering man. But I and him too, we overpersuaded her. He
seemed to think so much of me and her too; and he had a store, and
'peared like a man well to do. And I did want to see my only daughter
settle herself. The feelin is nat'ral, as you know yourself, Mr. Spouter;
all parrents that has daughters, has 'em: aint it so, Mr. Spouter?”
Mr. Spouter answered rather by his manner than in words. Miss
Spouter became confused, and didn't look at Mr. Pucket when he
coughed. Mr. Triplet had seen something of life in his time: still he
took a chew of tobacco.
“Go on, Pap,” said Georgiana.
“Yes. Well, you see, gentulmen, sich it war — anyhow they got
married. Georgy said when she gin her consent she gin it to keep me
from runnin distracted, as it did 'pear like I war. Howbeever, I ar
clean out o' that now. Circumances is altered powerful. Well, as I
said, anyhow they got married — that is, they didn't git married;
because he were already married, and thay warn't no law for it, as you
know yourself, Mr. Pucket, thay warn't. But — ah — leastways they
went throo the — ah — the motions, and the — ah — gittin out lisens,
and the — ah — stannin up in the floor and jinin o' hands; and he
come here to live. Well, now, don't you b'leeve that Georgy, she
spishuned him from the very fust day: for no sooner were he married
hardly, than he begun to sarch behind every nuke and corner about
here, and before night, bless your soul, he knowed more about whar
things was in this house than I did. Leastways, Georgy says so,
and it's obleeged to be so; for there's things, many of 'em in this
house, that I don't know whar they are.” And Mr. Pea looked around
and above, taking as big a view as if he were surveying the whole
universe.
“Well, Georgy, she and he tuk a walk that fust evenin. Instid of
talkin along like tother folks that's jest got married, he went right
straight to talkin about settlin hisself, and put at her to begin right
away to git all she could out'n me; which Georgy she didn't like no
sich, and nobody wouldn't a liked it that thought anything of herself.
You wouldn't, Angeline Spouter, you know you wouldn't, the very fust
day you was married.”
“Go on, Pap, please.”
“Yes. Well, Georgy spishuned him again at supper, from the way he
looked at the spoons on the table; which ef they had a been the
ginuine silver, they wouldn't a been in this house now, to my opinion;
probly; leastways, ef—” Uncle Ben smiled, and concluded to postpone
the balance of this sentence.
“Well, you see, Georgy Ann, arter supper, she got sick, she did, and
she hilt on to her head powerful. In cose, bed-time, hit had to come
arter a while. When hit did come, she were wusser, and she give that
feller a candle to go long to bed. When Georgy goes to bed, she
goes on throo into the little jinin back room and she locked the door
arter her. I never knowed one word o' this untel arter he went off.
Well, arter he went to sleep, Georgy she heerd a mighty groanin. So
she ups, she does, an onlocks the door, and creeps in mighty sly. It
seem like he were dreamin and talkin in his sleep powerful. He called
names, sich as Jemimy, Susan Jane, Betsy Ann, and — what was all
them names, Georgy?”
“It makes no difference, Pap; go on.”
“And a heap more of 'em. Georgy can tell you, cose she heard
'em over and ofting. Well, he seemed to be powerful shamed of all
of 'em, and he swore he wern't married, and them that said so was a
liar, and all sich. Well, sich carrin on made Georgy b'leeve that he
was a married man befo, and had two or three wives already, or probable
four or five. And so Georgy seed rightaway that she wasn't no wife o'
his'n, and didn't have no intrust in no sich a d-evil. And she war
right, Triplet. Triplet, warn't she right?”
“In cose,” answered Mr. Triplet.
“Do go on, Pap.”
“Well, yes. Yit still she didn't let on. She kept up tolerble well
in the day-time, but when night come agin, Georgy she gits sick agin and
goes into the jinin little room agin. I never seed sich carrin on befo.”
Uncle Ben had to stop and laugh a while. Georgy begged him to
go on.
“Well, she kep on hearin him a goin on, and you think she would
tell me the fust thing o' all this? Ef she had a told me — howbeever,
that aint neither here nor thar. Well, it seem he talked in his sleep
about other people besides wimming, about men and about money, and
declared on his soul that he never stole it, which goes to show Georgy
that he war a rogue, as well as a rascal about wimming. Yit in this
that he would like to have the whole plantation and all that's on
it!” Mr. Pea showed plainly by his manner, after making this last
remark, that no man had ever had an ambition more boundless than
the late Mr. Slack. “But I mighty soon give him to understand that
he war barkin up the wrong tree ef he thought I was gwine to give
up this plantation and my property before my head got cold. Them's
always fools that does it. Howbeever, he talked so much about settlin
hisself, and so easy and good about Georgy, and how that all he keered
about property was for her, and I knowed that was all I keered about it
for, that I told him I'd pay for a nigger 'oman for 'em. Well, you see,
I no sooner says that than he ups with a lie about havin to go to Augusty.
But shore enuff, arter he had been here two days, he had to go too
Augusty, or somewhar else. Becase he got a letter which skeered him
powerful, and he said he war goin right off. I didn't spishun nothin
agin the man, and I lets him have the money to buy the nigger 'oman. I
had no more spishun of him, Jeems Triplet, than I have of you, only
knowin that he was monstrous fond of money, which is all right enough
ef a man comes by it honest. Well, Georgy she was tuk back tremenduous
by his gittin the money so all on a sudding. Yit she didn't let on,
but makes out like she's mighty sorry he war goin so soon, but mighty
glad he's goin to fetch her a nigger 'oman when he come back. She has
him got a mighty good snack of vittles, and what ain't common for
dinner, she puts on the table a plate of nice fresh butter and a plenty
of biscuit, Triplet.” Mr. Pea now looked as sly and as good-humored
as it was possible for him to be. “Triplet, I've got a good joke on
you.”
Mr. Triplet seemed to guess what it was, and smiled subduedly.
“You know what you said about my never seein certing people and
certing things — certing property no more?”
Mr. Triplet acknowledged that he did.
“Well, Triplet, part of it was so and part of it were not so; all which
both is jest as I wants it to be. Triplet, that butter and them biscuit
is what saved me. He never expected to eat no more tell he got to
Augusty, and I tell you he hung to that butter and them biscuit. While
he was at 'em, and Georgy she made 'em late a comin in a purpose,
she takes some old keys which she had picked up, and finds one that
could onlock his peleese whar she seed him put the money, and whar
she knowed he kep all he had.”
Uncle Ben intended to laugh mercilessly at Triplet, but he was
stopped by the sight of Mr. Pucket, who did look as if he was trying
to swallow something that was too big for his throat.
“Ar anything the matter with you, Mr. Pucket? Is you got a cold?
Ar your thoat so'?” asked the old gentleman, with undisguised interest.
Triplet snickered as Mr. Pucket denied being sick.
Uncle Ben proceeded:
“So she jest opened it sly as a mice and tuk out my money —”
“And what else?” eagerly asked Mr. Pucket.
“My watch, that the villion beg me to let him take with him to have
it worked on, which I didn't like no —”
“What else?” asked Mr. Pucket again.
“That's the last pint I'm a comin too, and that's why Georgy sent
arter Mr. Spouter. She knowed that he owed Mr. Spouter thirty
dollars, and she made up her mind to pay the debt as now she seed
his money, and she tuk out thirty dollars o' his money, which here it
ar for you, Mr. Spouter.”
“I garnishee the thirty dollars!” interposed Mr. Pucket, holding out
his hands.
“You are too late,” answered Mr. Spouter, taking the money, putting
it into his pocket, and looking as if he had gotten in again after being
outed by Mr. Slack.
“Can't I garnishee, Triplet?”
“Garnishee for what?”
“For my fee?”
“Fee for what?”
“Why, for my services in — ah — coming out here on two occasions.”
“Well, you can't garnishee.”
Mr. Triplet looked as if he was ashamed of Mr. Pucket. Uncle
Ben hoped there was goin to be no bad feelins, and no difficulties.
“Certainly not,” answered Mr. Triplet. “Mr. Pucket ar a young
lawyer, and forgot at the minnit that it war other people that owed him
for his services instid of Mr. Slack. Besides, furthermo, Mr. Pucket
ought to know that you can't garnishee jest dry so, without fust gittin
out some sort o' paper from the cote. That would take so much time
that Spouter here mout spend his thirty dollars befo he got it, that
is ef Spouter wanted too.” Mr. Triplet looked interrogatively at the
other gentleman.
“Yes, ef I wanted too,” answered Mr. S., oracularly.
“But,” persisted Mr. Pucket, “there was other moneys.”
“Whar?” asked Mr. Triplet.
“In Mr. Slack's trunk.”
“No thay wan't,” answered Mr. Pea, who thought he ought to keep
Mr. Pucket to the true word. “They was in his peleese.”
“Well, in his peleese. That makes no difference,” and Mr. Pucket
looked as if he thought he had them on that point.
“Pucket,” said Triplet, “it won't make no difference. You are
right. It don't make nary bit o' difference with nobody, ner with your
fee neither. That fee ar a lost ball. Thay aint no money here to pay
it with, an ef there was, it would be Mr. Slack's lawyer and not you
that would git it. Well, gin it up, and another time try to have better
luck.”
Mr. Pucket was a young lawyer, and was, in part, owned by Mr.
Triplet. So he subsided. Uncle Ben looked troubled, until the
sheriff assured him that there could be no difficulties. “Go on, Uncle
Ben. You got your gun, of course?”
“Triplet, you rascal! You may laugh; but I don't want the gun.
He may keep it, and do what he pleases with it, even to blowin out his
own thievious brains with it for what I keer. He's welcome to the gun.
You, Triplet!”
“Don't mind me, Uncle Ben. Go on.”
“Well, thar's lots more to tell, ef Georgy would only let me; and
some things as would make you laugh powerful, Triplet, ef you was to
hear 'em. But she's made me swar, actilly swar, that I won't tell without
her leave. Maybe she'll tell your ole 'oman some o' these days.
Well, I felt mighty glad when I got my money back, and, ef anything,
a leetle gladder when I got back my watch agin. Triplet, when I
seed her” (and the old man drew out a watch as big and as round as
a turnip), “when I seed her agin, ef I didn't cry you may kill me. I've
had her thirty year, and none o' your new-fangled ones can beat her
runnin when you clean her out and keep her sot right with the sun.
Ah, well,” he continued, putting it back and shaking his foot in mild
satisfaction, “the thing is over, and the best of it all ar that —”
“Hush, Pap,” said Georgiana, raising her finger.
The old man smiled, and hushed.
After hearing parts of the story over several times, the party rose to
go. Mr. Triplet rising, said that in cose it war not any of his bisiness,
but he would like to ax Miss Georgy one question, ef he wouldn't be
why she didn't tell on the villion as soon as she found him out?
Georgiana answered:
“Well, Mr. Triplet, I many times thought I would; but you see I
didn't know for certain that he had done all the things that I was afraid
he had. Besides, Mr. Triplet, even if he wasn't my husband, I one
time thought he was, and before God and man I had promised to be
faithful to him. And then he had stayed in this house: and eat at our
table: and — and called Pap father, and — and — and — Well, Mr.
Triplet, somehow it didn't look right for me to be the first one to turn
against him; and — and when I did think of telling on him, something
would rise up and tell me that I ought not.”
“Wimming aint like men nohow, Uncle Ben,” said Triplet, wiping
his eye as he bade him good-bye.
“No they aint, Triplet,” and he laid his hand fondly on his daughter's
shoulder while the tears ran down his cheeks.
The visitors now left, all except Miss Spouter. She wished to get
behind the scenes and know more. How much more she learned I
cannot say. They went to bed early when the day ended, and to sleep
late. There was something which made them easily reunite. It was
pity. Miss Spouter imagined that she pitied her friend because she
had been deceived by a man, even more than herself had ever been,
and because of the hurtful influence which that deception would
probably exert upon any future expectations of marriage. Miss Pea,
who, instead of having any regrets, felt relief in the thought that henceforth
her father would be satisfied to allow her to manage such matters
for herself, and that she should be satisfied to have none to manage,
really pitied her friend because she yet yearned for an impossible
estate. When the time came for them to go to sleep (and Georgiana
thought it long coming), she did not wait a moment. Miss Spouter
lay awake some time further. She pondered long on what she had
heard. It was strange. It was almost like a novel. How could
George be still the same Georgiana Pea? She had been Mrs. Slack.
Wasn't she Mrs. Slack now? And how, oh! how exciting everything
must have been. Her thoughts followed Mr. Slack a while; but he
was so far away that they came back and went looking after Mr. Bill
Williams. He was not much; but he was something. He had never
exhibited any regard for her yet, but it was possible that he would
some day. He was at least ten years younger than herself. But her
heaven? or were they not a lottery, or something of the sort? Mr.
Bill Williams, after all, might be the very one to whom the something
in her alluded when it had so repeatedly told her that she was destined
to make some man so happy; who knows? Then her mind turned
again, and notwithstanding Mr. Slack's great distance ahead, it started
forth in the direction he had taken. She dwelt upon his strange conduct
and his running away, and although it was plain that he had done the
like before, and when he had never seen her nor heard of her, yet she
half persuaded herself that she was the cause, though the perfectly
innocent cause of it all. “Yes, yes!” she was saying to herself, as
sleep stole upon her at last, “he is gone; but the image of Angeline
Spouter is in his breast, and it will stay there forever!”
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