CHAPTER VIII.
A DISAGREEABLE ROOM-MATE.
I had not seen Mrs. Boomsby for several years; and though I had no reason to expect anything but abuse from her, my curiosity induced me to see her. If anything, she was more of a tyrant than her brutal husband, and I had no occasion to thank her for anything she had done for me. She was the more plucky of the pair, and it had surprised me, years before, to learn that she "ruled the roost." At that time the captain was actually afraid of her.
"You have got pretty well up in the world, Captain Boomsby," I said when we had gone up two flights of stairs and were about to ascend a third.
"Well, you see, I let all these lower rooms; and the folks is jest as well off up three pair of stairs as up one," he replied, almost out of breath, for the stairs told more heavily on him than on me. "Besides, I like to have the old woman as far as I can from the business; she don't interfere so much then."
The old reprobate chuckled then as though he had said something smart; but I would have given a quarter to have had his wife overhear the remark, for the fun of the scene that would have ensued.
"Parker Boomsby! where on earth air you goin'?" shouted a shrill, but very familiar voice on the floor below us.
"All right," replied the captain, evidently much disturbed by the call. "I thought she was up here; but she always turns up just where you don't want her. But come up, Sandy; I want to show you a room I've fixed up."
"No, I thank you; as Mrs. Boomsby is not up here, I think I will go down," I replied, beginning to retrace my steps.
"What are you doin' with strangers up gerret, Parker Boomsby?" demanded the lady on the floor below.
"I've got sunthin' up here that belongs to you, Sandy; I want to give it to you," pleaded the captain. "I fetched you up here to give it to you afore I took you in to see the old woman."
I concluded that he had some reason for taking me to the attic of the house, and I was curious to know what it was. It is true he had led me to believe that his wife was in this part of the house; but that might have been one of his huge jokes. I followed him up the last flight of stairs. I was then on the fourth floor of the house. There were two large and two small chambers in this attic, none of which appeared to be furnished.
"It is in this room," said Captain Boomsby, leading me into the rear hall chamber. "It's a little grain dark in here."
I saw that the window that looked out on the river-side of the house had been boarded up. He led the way into the room, and I followed him.
"I've got a picter of you when you wasn't more'n four year old. It was taken when you was in the poor-house, by a feller that come along taking picters, to show what he could do. It hangs on the wall over here," continued the captain, passing between me and the door. "You can look at it all the rest of the day, if you like."
Suddenly he dodged out of the door, and I heard the bolt spring as he locked the door behind him. I had not expected that he would resort to any trick to get possession of me; and I had been as unsuspicious as though I were on board of the Sylvania. In fact, I was amazed at the hardihood of the man in attempting to make a prisoner of me in this manner. For some reason or other, I was not at all alarmed at my situation. I did not consider the door absolutely invulnerable; and I was confident that I had strength enough to remove the boards that had been nailed up before the window.
When I had been in the room a few minutes, there was light enough which came through the cracks in the boards before the window to enable me to see where I was. There was not an article of furniture of any kind in the apartment. The boards appeared to be securely fastened, not with nails, as I had supposed, but with screws. The boards were of hard pine, and about as strong as oak. My prison was stronger than it seemed at first.
I came to the conclusion before I had been in the room ten minutes, that this apartment had been prepared for my reception. Captain Boomsby knew that the Sylvania was to return to Jacksonville, as others did. It was plain that he had not yet given up the idea of possessing the steamer. He claimed to be my guardian, and to have the legal right to possess whatever belonged to me. Carrington had told him my father was dead, and he believed he could carry his point. I had certainly been bound out to him until I was of age; but he had surrendered all his claims to me in writing to my father, though this document had been destroyed in the fire.
The fact that I had a father, rendered his claim upon me of no value. I was satisfied that no lawyer would undertake the case he proposed to make out against me. I learned that he had tried in Charleston to employ a legal gentleman to assist him in his work of getting possession of the steamer; but no one could furnish any warrant of law for the proceeding. I was not disposed to bother my head with the legal aspect of the case, for my ancient enemy certainly had no legal right to kidnap me, and make me a prisoner in his own house. I was a prisoner; and when I came to a realizing sense of the fact, I was ready for business.
"What on airth are you doin' up here, Parker Boomsby?" snarled the wife of that worthy; and as I stood at the door of my prison, I could hear her pant from the violence of her exertions in ascending the stairs, for, like her liege lord, she had greatly increased her avoirdupois since I lived with the family at Glossenbury. Possibly she drank too much whiskey, like the companion of her joys and sorrows, though I had no information on this point. I only knew that she used to take a little when she was too hot or too cold, when she was wet or when she was dry.
"Hush, Nancy! Don't cut up now!" pleaded the master of the house, as perhaps he supposed he was.
"Don't talk to me, Parker Boomsby! What are you a-doin' up here? What sort of a con-spy-racy be you gittin' up at this blessed moment? Don't talk to me about cuttin' up! It is you that is allus cuttin' up, and never tellin' your peaceful, sufferin' wife what you are doin'," replied Mrs. Boomsby; and I was confident she had been drinking to some extent, from her maudlin tones.
"Hush, Nancy! I've got Sandy Duddleton, with all his fine sodjer's clothes on, in that room," said the captain, in a tone of triumph. "I shall make him give up that steam-yachet; and I shall run her as a reg'lar line up to Green Cove Springs, stoppin' at our orange farm both ways," replied Captain Boomsby, using his best efforts to appease the anger of his spouse.
"Hev you got him in there?" demanded the lady, evidently entirely mollified by the announcement of her husband. "I want to see him. I hain't sot eyes on him sence I see him in Michigan."
"It won't do to open the door: he'll git away if I do. Wait till he gits tamed down a little, and then you shall see him. Good gracious! I forgot all about the bar! Jest as like as not some nigger will come in and help hisself to the best liquor behind the counter. Run down, Nancy, and tell Nicholas to tend to the bar," said the captain.
"Run down yourself, you old fool!" replied the amiable lady. "Do you think I come clear up here for nothin'? I want to see Sandy Duddleton in his sodjer's clothes."
"It won't do to open that door: he will git out if you do. But I must go down and look out for the bar. I shouldn't wonder if I had lost ten cents by this time," replied Captain Boomsby; and I heard his heavy step on the stairs as he went down.
A moment later I heard a hand applied to the handle of the door, and I had no doubt it was Mrs. Boomsby trying to open it in order to obtain a view of "Sandy Duddleton," which was the name by which I was known when an inmate of the poor-house. But the door was locked, and the key was in the pocket of the proprietor of the saloon. The lady seemed to be angry because she could not get into the room where I was; and I must add that I was also sorry she could not, for if she could get in, I could get out.
She tried the door several times, but she could not get in. She said nothing to me; and as I expected no assistance from her, I said nothing. Presently I heard her step on the stairs, hardly less heavy than that of her husband. I concluded that it must be five o'clock by this time; and looking at my watch, I found it was half an hour later. I wanted to get out before dark; and so far, I had not matured any plan to accomplish this purpose. I went to the window, and examined the boards which had been screwed up before it.
I had a large jack-knife in my pocket, which I had carried for several years. It had a kind of scimitar-shaped blade I had used when at work on rigging. But I had little hope of being able to remove the screws from the hard pine, which was as hard to work as oak. I struck a match I had in my pocket, and by the light of it made a careful examination of the screw-heads in the boards. I saw that holes had been bored in the wood to admit the screws: indeed, it would have been impossible to get them through without boring. Of course this would make it easier to remove the screws.
But what was the use of taking down the boards in front of the window? I could not jump down from the attic floor of the building. Yet I could go to the next window, come into the house again, and then go down-stairs, the same as anybody would. I noticed that the lowest board was not more than two inches wide: it had been cut to fit what remained uncovered of the window. I applied my knife to the screws in this narrow strip. Though they were hard to move, I succeeded in getting them out. But the labor of taking down the rest of the boards, or enough of them to enable me to pass out, was so great that I was discouraged in the attempt to accomplish it. The end of the knife-blade did not fit the slit of the screw.
The removal of the narrow board admitted light enough to enable me to see all about the room. Next to the door which opened into the hall was another, which I concluded led into a closet. There was no picture of me when I was a small child; and I wondered if Captain Boomsby had invented that fable on the spot. I was not willing to believe it. It would have required too great an exercise of imaginative power for him; and it was not unlikely that he had spent weeks in evolving the brilliant fiction.
I did not expect to be left alone and unguarded for any great length of time. My persecutor knew that I had some enterprise about me, and that I would not tamely submit to my imprisonment. Perhaps he noticed that I wore light shoes, and should not be likely to kick the door down with them, as I might if I had on thick cowhide boots. I picked up the narrow strip of board I had removed from the window; it was very heavy for its size. If I had got a purchase on the door of the room, I could have pried it down; but there was no chance to get hold of it.
Possibly there was something in the closet that would aid me. I opened the door. As I did so, an ugly-looking snake darted out into the room. He coiled himself up in one corner of the room and showed fight, while I fled to the opposite corner.
CHAPTER IX.
A BATTLE WITH THE SERPENT.
I had no idea what the snake was, for I had never seen one of that kind before. I am not particularly afraid of snakes, though they are very disagreeable to me. When I was at work in the field as a farmer, I suppose I never lost an opportunity to kill one that came in my way. But all these were harmless reptiles, and of late years I have not been disposed to meddle with them.
The snake that introduced himself to me so unexpectedly was not more than three feet long. He was of a greenish-brown color, with some yellow on the sides. I had the strip of board I had taken from the window in my hand when the reptile darted out of the closet. I don't think he had any particular intentions, at first, except to get out of his prison, as I had to get out of mine. I could not blame him for anything he had done so far. Like myself, he was a prisoner, and we ought to have been in full sympathy with each other.
I had released his snakeship from one prison, and placed him so much nearer to entire freedom. To this extent I was entitled to his gratitude, though I did not expect much of him. As he darted out of the closet, I sprang from his path into the corner of the room, behind the hall-door. The next instant he was coiled into a round heap. Then he raised his head from the middle of the coil about a foot, as it seemed to me, though it could hardly have been so high.
So far from feeling anything like gratitude for the favor I had done him, the villain made war upon me. Suddenly he made a spring at me; but I had both eyes wide open, and was watching him with the most intense anxiety. As he leaped, I hit him with the stick in my hand; and he fetched up against the wall, on the inside of the closet. I have no doubt his striking against the partition caused some confusion in his ideas: at any rate, he dropped on the floor, and began to wriggle about in such a manner as no decent snake would, unless his ideas were confused.
A Battle with the SerpentA Battle with the Serpent.Page 94.
My curiosity in regard to that identical snake was entirely satisfied, and I made haste to close the closet-door. I felt that I had no further business with that snake. It has taken me some time to tell about this reptile; but I think the villain was not out of the closet more than three seconds; at any rate, it was a very few seconds. He did business with great rapidity. He had lost no time in coming out of his prison, and none in making his attack on me. He had wasted no time in conducting operations; and if I had not had the bit of board in my hand, I am afraid the snake would have got the better of me.
At the time I had no acquaintance with this snake, though he never waits for a formal introduction when he means business. I know now that he was a moccasin. I saw many of them in the woods of Florida. They are as venomous as the rattlesnake, and are even more dreaded by many people, for they give no notice of their intention to strike. In the English books of natural history this snake is called the water viper. The copperhead is one of the same sort.
I felt as happy as the patron saint of Ireland must have felt after he had boxed up the old serpent, and sunk him at the bottom of the lake. I had the enemy where he could not harm me, for it was not possible for him to make his way through the door. I took the precaution to see that there were no holes or cracks through which the snake could again force himself into my unwilling company. I could find no opening of any kind. For the present I felt entirely safe.
Though I did not know anything about the kind of snake I was shut up with, I felt from the beginning that he was poisonous, and that his bite would make an end of me. I had closeted him; and now I had time to consider the situation. I came promptly to the conclusion that he was put into that closet for my benefit. The conspiracy seemed to be almost too crafty for Captain Boomsby; though I knew that he was capable of doing such a thing.
When I had considered this subject for a few minutes, I found my blood boiling with indignation. Before I saw the snake, I was more inclined to regard the whole trick in the light of a practical joke, rather than as a serious matter. It seemed to me just then that my ancient enemy, in his bargain with Carrington, intended to resort to some such device to get rid of me.
I did not intend to spend the night in that attic chamber; and when my blood began to boil, I aimed a blow at one of the panels of the door with the heavy stick in my hand. The thin board that formed this part of the door split under the blow. I followed it up as though I had been chopping wood. The panel shivered under the vigorous assault I made upon it. In a minute, I had a hole through. Inserting my stick in the opening, I pried out the rest of the panel. But the hole was not big enough to admit the passage of my body.
I had hardly succeeded in making a breach in the door, before I heard the most lusty screams in the lower part of the house. I had no difficulty in recognizing the voice of Mrs. Boomsby. She heard the noise of my bombardment, and was calling her husband in her usual affectionate manner. But I was not at all disturbed by the outcry. I was even willing they should bring the police to their assistance. But I did not expect any outside aid would be called in, for that would do the Boomsbys more harm than it would me. In a word, I did not care who came: I intended to break my way out of my prison, all the same.
Placing my stick edgeways in the opening I had made, I had a good leverage, the end of the bar being outside of the stile of the door, and the face of it against the middle piece. I pushed against the end of the lever with all the power I had. The middle stile snapped in the mortise, for the whole door was not more than an inch and a quarter thick. I had broken out the mortise, and the lever went "home." I could no longer apply the implement with effect, and I expected every minute to see the portly form of Captain Boomsby on the stairs, hurrying up to save his prisoner. But I had no fear of him: if he attempted to prevent my departure, I should use the stick as an argument with him, as I had done with the door.
Finding I could no longer use the lever to advantage, I grasped the middle piece of the door with both hands, and gave a desperate pull at it. There were no nails or pins to resist me, and the parts of the door snapped like pipe-stems. I wrenched out the middle piece, and then the other panel. Then I had an opening in the door eighteen inches wide, which was almost enough to permit the passage of my fat foe.
The middle piece and both panels of the upper part of the door lay in many pieces on the floor, in the room, and in the hall. I used all reasonable haste in making my way through the opening I had forced. When I was in the hall, I began to feel good-natured again; for I will not deny that I was mad when I realized my relations with that snake. I did not care a straw for Captain Boomsby. If it came to the worst, I believed I could "handle" him, to use his own choice phrase, with the aid of the stick in my hand. I was determined not to let the piece of hard pine go out of my hands while I remained in the house.
Mrs. Boomsby was still shouting for "Parker Boomsby," for she always called him by his full name when she was excited. I was willing she should shout. I felt quite cool, composed, and pleasant. I was ready to make an orderly retreat from the house. But I had not lost all interest in that snake, which I believed was intended for my executioner. I put my head into the opening I had made in the door. I found I could reach the door of the closet; and with a very hasty movement I threw it wide open.
I wondered whether or not I had killed his snakeship when I poked him back into his prison. The last I had seen of him he was wriggling on the floor, stirring himself up in the most lively manner. But the reptile immediately proved that I had not killed him by darting out into the room as lively as he had done the same thing before. I did not believe it was possible for him to get out through the opening by which I had escaped from my prison; but I was not quite willing to wait to test the question. The villain could crawl like most other snakes with which I was familiar, but he also had a talent for leaping. I considered it wise and prudent to begin my retreat without any delay.
I took a last look at the snake. He had retreated to the corner of the room opposite the closet-door and coiled himself up, with his head in the centre. He kept his eyes fixed on me, or I fancied he did. He looked as ugly as sin itself. He seemed to me to be as near like Captain Boomsby as one pin is like another. They both did business on the same principle. Mentally I bade him an affectionate adieu. So far as I was concerned, he seemed to have none of the serpent's power of fascination, for I had not the slightest inclination to continue gazing at him after I had gratified my curiosity. I descended the upper flight of stairs. The doors of the rooms on this floor were all open, and I saw that the two rear chambers were furnished as bedrooms.
I went into one of these rooms, and seated myself in a chair. Mrs. Boomsby was on the floor below, standing at the head of the stairs, calling for her husband. It has taken me a long time to record the incidents of my escape so far, and my reflections upon them; but when I looked at my watch I found that only eight minutes had elapsed since I consulted it before, at half past five. Probably it was not five minutes from the time I first saw the snake till I was seated in the chair in the room below. The lady of the house had not, therefore, stood a great while in her present position. Her husband had had time enough to come up-stairs since he was first called, but he probably had a customer in the saloon.
As I sat in the chair, I suddenly began to wonder whether snakes had a talent for coming down-stairs. The idea was just a little bit appalling, for I had no desire to meet his snakeship again. Neither the stairs nor the halls were carpeted. If he came down in the usual way, I should be likely to hear him tumbling down the steps. But I rejected this idea; for on further reflection I concluded that a snake would not come down like a man, when there was a better way for one of his habits to accomplish the purpose. Whatever the villain was, if he came down at all, he would take to the stair-rail. I felt sure of this, for it seemed to be the most natural thing for a snake to do.
I could not see how the snake was to get out of the room. I did not think he could crawl up to the opening I had made, for there was nothing for him to fasten to in his ascent. It did not seem to me that he could get out unless he made a flying leap through the opening. I was by no means sure he could not do this; and I did not care to wait for him to experiment on the matter. Just then it occurred to me that I was not the only person liable to be bitten by that snake. As I thought of it, I walked down the stairs. I knew that Mrs. Boomsby had a mortal terror of snakes when I lived with the family.
She confronted me in the hall of the second story.
CHAPTER X.
THE FELLOW IN THE LOCK-UP.
"You abominable wretch!" exclaimed Mrs. Boomsby, placing her arms akimbo, and looking at me with the utmost ferocity, so that between her and the snake I found there was little choice. "What are you a-doin' in my house?"
"Getting out of it, Mrs. Boomsby," I replied, with the good-nature I had been nursing up-stairs for several minutes.
I wondered whether she knew anything about the snake. The bare thought was enough to assure me that she did not. She would no more have permitted the captain, or any other person, to bring the most harmless reptile into the house, than she would have opened her sleeping apartment for the reception of the sea-serpent, in which both she and her husband believed as in the ocean itself.
"What are you a-doin' here? Can't you let us be here no more'n you could in Michigan? Must you pursue us wherever we go?" demanded the lady, putting the matter in an entirely new light to me, for I believed I had always been able and willing to keep away from the Boomsbys.
"I was invited up-stairs to see you," I began.
"Don't tell me that! Do you think I live in the garret?"
"I thought we were going rather high up; but I supposed Captain Boomsby knew where to find you," I replied, smiling as sweetly as though there were no snakes in the Land of Flowers. "But it seems that your husband lured me up there to make a prisoner of me. He locked me into the little room in the rear attic, which he had fitted up for me by screwing boards over the window."
"Don't tell me such a ry-dicerlous story! I don't believe a word on't. Nobody ever could believe a word you say, Sandy Duddleton!"
"You know very well that I was up there; for I heard your husband tell you so. You talked with him about it, and insisted upon seeing me. But I don't wish to dispute about this matter with you, for I don't think you understand all his plans," I replied, moving towards the head of the stairs, while she planted herself before me so as to prevent my going down.
"Don't talk to me, Sandy Duddleton!"
"I won't talk to you if you will get out of my way, and let me out of the house," I replied, trying to get by her.
"What be you go'n' to do with that stick?" she asked, as she placed herself in front of me.
But I saw that she had a reasonable respect for the stick, and she was milder than I had seen her twenty times before. I looked about me to see if there was any other flight of stairs which would take me to the street, or to the back yard, which opened into a lane by the shore of the river. From the lower hall a door opened into the saloon; and this was the way by which I had come up. I stood in the hall with my back to a door, which I concluded must lead to the rear of the house. Without turning around, I opened this door.
"What be you a-doin'?" demanded Mrs. Boomsby, when she saw that she was flanked; for a glance behind me revealed the back stairs. "Parker Boomsby, come right up here, this minute!" she called down the front stairs.
"I won't trouble the captain," I interposed. "I have a word to say to you before I go, Mrs. Boomsby. I don't think you knew there was a snake about three feet long in the room where your husband made me a prisoner."
"A snake!" gasped the lady of the house, starting back with alarm. "I don't believe a word on't!"
But she did believe it, whatever she said.
"Yes, a snake; and I have no doubt he is a poisonous one, put there to bite me, and make an end of me, so that the captain could get possession of the steam-yacht!" I continued, rather vigorously, for I was afraid I should be interrupted by the coming of the captain.
"A snake in this house! a pizen one, too!" groaned Mrs. Boomsby.
"He was put in the closet; and when I opened the door he came out and made a spring at me. I left him in that room."
"Didn't you kill him, Sandy Duddleton? You used to kill snakes."
"I didn't kill this one, though I struck at him. I broke through the door, and, for aught I know, the snake is following me down-stairs," I replied deliberately. "I think you will see him coming down on the stair-rail."
She did not wait to hear any more, but, with a tremendous scream, rushed by me, bolted into the front room, and closed and locked the door behind her. I certainly did not wish the reptile to bite her or her children; but I did not think there was much danger of the villain getting out of the room through the opening I had made in the door.
The scream of the stout lady did not appear to move her husband, who was probably used to this sort of thing. I had put her on her guard in case the snake did work his way out of the room and down the stairs. I had done my duty, and I walked leisurely down to the hall. The door leading into the saloon was still wide open. The uses of this door were many and various. I had been not a little surprised in some of the Southern cities to notice that the drinking-saloons were all closed on Sunday. In some of them not even a cigar could be bought at the hotel on that day.
Doubtless the law was as strict in Jacksonville as elsewhere; but I had noticed that every saloon had a side door for Sunday use. The front door of the house was closed on other days; on Sunday it was left open, as an intimation that the saloon could be reached in that way. I thought of this Sunday rum-selling as I noticed the arrangement of the doors. Of course the police understood it.
I approached the door opening into the saloon, for I heard the voice of my former tyrant. I wanted to assure him that I was happy still, and that he had better look out for the snake before he bit any of his family.
"He never could get out of there in this world!" exclaimed Captain Boomsby, as I was about to enter the saloon.
"Do you think so, Captain Boomsby?" I coolly asked, as I walked into the room.
To my astonishment, the person to whom the Captain's remark appeared to be addressed was Mr. Kirby Cornwood, whom I had left on board of the Sylvania, asleep under the awning. The Floridian was evidently as much astonished to see me as I was to see him.
"We were speaking of a fellow who was arrested last night," said Cornwood, with one of his blandest smiles. "I think he will get out of the lock-up in less than three days; but the keeper of this place remarked that he would never get out in this world. Only a slight difference of opinion."
"I tell you the fellow will never get out; he isn't smart enough in the first place, and the lock-up is stronger than you think for, Mr.--I don't know's I know your name, though I cal'late I have seen you somewhere afore," added Captain Boomsby.
"I reckon you have seen me here before," replied Cornwood, taking his card from his pocket and presenting it to the captain.
"I can't read it without my glasses," said the saloon-keeper, holding the card off at arm's length.
"My name is Kirby Cornwood," added the Floridian.
"Well, Mr. Corngood, do you----"
"My name is Cornwood," interposed the guide.
"I beg your parding, Mr. Cornwool."
"Cornwood," repeated the owner of that name, rather indignantly.
"All right, Mr. Cornwood. Do you want to bet sunthin' that man won't git out within three days?" continued Captain Boomsby.
"I don't care to bet on it; in fact I never bet," replied Mr. Cornwood, glancing at me, as though he expected me to approve this position, which I certainly did, though I said nothing.
"I will bet five dollars agin three the feller gits out in less than three days, Mr. Woodcorn," persisted Captain Boomsby.
I could not see what the captain was driving at, unless it was to vex the Floridian by miscalling his name. I had known him to do the same thing before. If my old tyrant had manifested some surprise at first at seeing me, he seemed to have got over it very quickly. I was very glad indeed to be satisfied that Cornwood had no knowledge of my imprisonment in the attic, as I supposed he had when I entered the saloon. I had employed him, and was then paying him five dollars a day for doing nothing. I did not wish to believe that he was a friend of my ancient enemy.
"Captain Boomsby, I had to break a hole through the door of the room in which you locked me, in order to get out," I said, as soon as I had an opportunity to get in a word.
"Then you must pay for it, for the landlord will charge it to me," said he, promptly.
"I think not; and if it were not for the time it would take, I would complain of you at the police office. I don't know what kind of a snake it was you put into the closet for my benefit; but I think you will find him running about your house by this time," I replied. "I gave Mrs. Boomsby warning of the danger, and she has locked herself into her room."
"What snake, Sandy Duddleton? What you talking about?" demanded the captain. But I could see that he was not a little disturbed by the information.
"You put a poisonous snake into the closet of that room where you locked me in. You expected me to open the door of the closet, and let him out. I did open the closet-door and let him out; but I did not give him a chance to bite me," I continued, rehearsing the facts for the benefit of Cornwood rather than my tyrant.
"What on airth are you talking about, Sandy? I don't know nothin' about no snake," protested Captain Boomsby.
"I think you know all about the snake, and that you put him there for my benefit. I have nothing further to say about the matter, except that the creature is still in your house, and that he will bite one of your children as readily as he would me. I advise you to attend to the matter, and have him killed," I continued, moving toward the door.
"Stop a minute, Sandy," called my persecutor. "What sort of a snake was it?"
"I don't know; I never saw one like it before."
"I guess I know sunthin' about it, arter all," said Captain Boomsby, with a troubled look. "I had a lodger in the house, and he had an attic room. He had a lot of young alligators, rattlesnakes, lizards, and other critters; and I let him put 'em in that room. He screwed the boards over the winder so they couldn't git out. I cal'late this was one of his snakes."
I had no doubt this story was all an invention, but I had no means of showing to the contrary. He begged me to go up-stairs, and help him kill the "varmint;" but I declined to do this, for I was not willing again to make myself the victim of his treachery. The captain called his son Nicholas from the front shop, which was a cigar store, and told him to look out for the bar.
Before he could go up-stairs two black policemen entered the saloon, armed with sticks. Mrs. Boomsby had told them what the matter was, and they had come in to kill the reptile. I left the premises, followed by Cornwood.
CHAPTER XI.
THE HON. PARDON TIFFANY'S WARNING.
I learned the next day, from one of the negro policemen who had been called in, that the snake had got out of the room where I left him, and that he had been found on the stair-rail, a floor below where I had confronted him. My informant told me he had killed him as he was crawling along the rail, on his way down another flight.
"He was only tryin' to git away, sah," added the policeman. "Dey allus run away when dey can, dem moccasins do; but dey spring at folks, and bite when dey git cornered. Awful bad snake, sah. Wuss'n a rattlesnake. Bite kill a man, suah."
When I left the saloon, I walked with Cornwood to the post-office. When we were in the street, he volunteered the opinion that Captain Boomsby was the greatest scoundrel in Jacksonville; and without going into the comparative merits of the question, I was not disposed to dispute the point. Cornwood seemed to feel relieved after he had expressed this opinion, and the subject was dropped.
I had told a colored clerk in the post-office to keep all letters for me until my return, for when we left Jacksonville I could not tell where we were going, and I expected to be back a month sooner. He greeted me very politely when I presented myself at the window, and handed me a large package of letters, secured with a rubber band. I thanked him for his kindness; and I must add that this one and another colored clerk I saw in Charleston, were more polite and gentlemanly than many a white clerk I have encountered in more northern cities.
Though I had received no letters for over two months, I had not failed to write them regularly to Mr. Brickland, and to my father since I had been assured that he was still living. I looked over the package that had been handed to me. There were two from my father. My heart thrilled with emotion when I recognized the handwriting. I thought no more of Captain Boomsby and his snake.
"Will there be anything I can do for you to-day or to-night, Captain Garningham?" asked Cornwood, as I stood looking at the outside of my letters.
"Nothing," I replied.
"Then I think I will sleep on shore, if you have no objection," he added.
"None whatever," I answered; and with the bundle of letters in my hand, I was glad to get rid of him, for he was rather officious, and often interrupted me in my state-room when there was not the least need of it.
Cornwood raised his Panama hat, bowed politely to me, and then hastened out of the building. He had hardly disappeared before the Hon. Mr. Tiffany came into the office. He dropped some letters into the box, and then approached me with a smiling face. All I had seen of this gentleman pleased me very much. My father called him his best friend in the letter of introduction brought to me. For this reason, if for no other, I should have respected and esteemed him; but I was not glad to see him at this moment. I wanted to be alone with my letters.
"Good evening, Captain Alick," said he. "I see you have a large packet of letters, and I won't interrupt you but for a moment. Are you going on board of the steamer now?"
"Yes, sir; I thought I would go on board and read my letters. Two of them are from my father--the first I have received from him for many months," I replied, wishing to have him understand my situation fully.
"I will not keep you from them a moment," he added, considerately. "But I suppose you will not attempt to read them till you go on board?"
"No, sir," I answered, putting the two letters from my father into my breast-pocket, with my most valuable papers, and dropping the others into a side-pocket. "I can't read them very well in the street."
"Then I will walk with you to your boat," continued Mr. Tiffany.
"I shall go to the wharf on which the market is located, and hail the steamer. I have found that is the best place to land."
We left the office, and walked up the street. My companion evidently had something to say to me, and had possibly started to go on board for the purpose of seeing me. I did not feel much interest in anything he might have to say under the circumstances.
"Just before I joined you in the post-office, I saw you with Mr. Cornwood. Pray don't think I wish to meddle impertinently with your affairs, Captain Alick," said Mr. Tiffany; and he seemed to be somewhat embarrassed about saying what he wished to say.
"By no means, sir," I replied, beginning to feel an interest in the conversation; but rather on account of the manner than the matter of what he said.
"Then if you won't take offence, I wish to say that I desire to warn you in regard to this man Cornwood," continued the friend of my father.
"You desire to warn me in regard to Mr. Cornwood!" I exclaimed, stopping short on the sidewalk, so great was my surprise at his words, as well as his manner.
"I beg you will not take any offence at what I say, Captain Alick, for I assure you I have nothing but the best of motives towards you," protested Mr. Tiffany, as we resumed our walk.
"I shall not take offence at anything you say, sir," I answered.
"After the very great service you have rendered me, you must think I am inhuman to be ungrateful to you so soon," continued Mr. Tiffany. "I assure you there is nothing like ingratitude in my heart; and I would wrong myself a thousand times before I would wrong you once."
"I believe every word you say, sir: and it has not even occurred to me to suspect your motives," I replied with energy. "The letter you brought me from my father would cause me to put entire confidence in you; but without that, I should not for an instant suspect you of anything unworthy towards me, or anybody else. When you warned me against Mr. Cornwood, I was surprised on account of something which occurred this afternoon."
"I shall not even ask you what occurred this afternoon; and you may keep your own counsel in regard to Mr. Cornwood. I repeat that I have not the least desire to meddle with your affairs."
"As the best friend of my father, I am sure I should value your advice and counsel very highly."
"I do not often counsel or advise anybody out of my own family, unless I am asked to do so. Here is the market wharf; and I have said all I have to say in regard to Mr. Cornwood. I only desire to warn you to keep your eyes wide open in dealing with him, for I learned from Owen that you have engaged the Florida person for your journey up the river."
"Do you know anything about him, Mr. Tiffany?" I asked, as much surprised to hear that he had nothing more to say as I had been, in the first place, to learn that he had anything to say in regard to the guide.
"I can't say that I do," he replied, with a rather vacant look.
"Why do you warn me against him, then?"
"That is certainly a very pertinent question, Captain Alick. I have no right to say anything against this person, for I know nothing against him. While I will not harm him, I warn you to look out for him."
"I suppose you must have some reason for what you say," I added, as I waved my handkerchief in the direction of the Sylvania, as a signal for a boat.
"Undoubtedly I have some reason for what I say. It may be enough to cause me to suspect him. I have only asked you to look out for him, for I do not feel at liberty to utter a word to his disparagement until I know it is true."
Mr. Tiffany seemed to be very earnest in what he said; but I was disappointed because he did not say more. He had been in Jacksonville a week before he went to St. Augustine; and it was possible that he had seen something of the guide during his stay.
"I see that you are not quite satisfied with what I have said. I cannot blame you for feeling so; but I should blame myself if I said anything more about this man," continued my father's friend. "I make no charge against Cornwood; I only say, as I might if we were facing a strange snake, he may do us harm, and we must look out for ourselves. Really, that is all I can say about the matter."
By this time the port boat had come up to the wharf. Mr. Tiffany bade me good night, and hastened up the pier. I was not satisfied, as he had suggested. He suspected Cornwood of something, but he did not even say what, much less give me the grounds for his suspicion. But I could obtain no more, and went into the boat. In a few minutes I was on the deck of the steamer. My supper was all ready, and I was obliged to attend to it before I looked at my letters.
My state-room was lighted, and I was by myself. At last I was alone with my letters. Washburn was on the forward deck, discussing the condition of the South with Griffin Leeds. I took out the two letters from my father. Both of them were mailed in London, though my father's home was in Shalford, Essex, about fifty miles from the great city. One was postmarked December 15th, and the other January 2d. I opened the one of the earliest date.
It was written immediately after his return to England from India. He had received no letters or intelligence of any kind from me for many months. He had been so worried about me that he could hardly stay to complete his business in India. He found nothing from me on his arrival at his home, nothing at the office of his solicitor, to whom all my letters had been forwarded, in London. He wrote that he found Mr. Carrington had gone to America, and his office was in charge of his confidential clerk.
I understood it all. This clerk must have destroyed all my letters to my father as soon as they reached the office, as he had been instructed to do by his employer. I felt sick at heart when I realized the distress of my father at getting no tidings from me. But since I sailed on this cruise from Detroit, six months before, I had supposed he was dead, and of course I wrote no letters to him.
I took up the second letter, expecting to read more of my father's despair on account of my long silence. I opened it: it was bright and cheerful as the first was gloomy and despondent. He had received my "welcome letter of December 4th," which I had written at Jacksonville, after the discovery of all the details of the conspiracy against me. I had written a full account of the matter, with the history of the voyage up to that date. It was after Colonel Shepard's house had been damaged by fire, and the West India trip had been arranged. I had asked him to write me at Jacksonville, but not to be alarmed if he did not hear from me for some time, for I hardly knew where we were going. He had been amazed at the contents of my letter. The clerk had confessed all to him. I was entirely satisfied with the conclusion of the matter. The rest of the letters were from my friends at the North.