CHAPTER XVI.
GRIFFIN LEEDS AT A DISCOUNT.
I did not expect that Mr. Cornwood would come on shore after what had passed between him and me, and I did not hurry on board when I left the house of Colonel Shepard. I passed from St. James Square down Laura Street, into Forsyth, on which the St. Johns House was situated. I passed the house several times, looking for Washburn, for I desired to know what success he had had in looking up Mr. Cobbington. I saw nothing of the mate, and I went into Bay Street, only a square from Forsyth.
I looked in every direction for Washburn, but I could not find him, and I was obliged to give up the search. I found my boat's crew on the wharf, watching some negroes opening oysters. It was done in a very clumsy manner, compared with the work of a Providence opener I had seen in New York; and my men were not at all satisfied with the manner it was done, though they had no interest in the job.
"Have you seen Mr. Washburn, Ben?" I asked, as we walked down the wharf.
"Yes, sir; we put him on board half an hour ago," replied the assistant engineer, who preferred to pull a boat rather than be idle.
"That was why I could not find him in the streets of Jacksonville," I added. "Has any one come off from the steamer since I came ashore?"
"No, sir, not a soul," answered Ben, decidedly.
I was glad to hear this, for it assured me that Cornwood had not left the steamer. The Sylvania was anchored on the other side of the main channel, which was near the line of wharves, but not more than a quarter of a mile distant. In a few minutes I was on board. The mate was at supper; and as I had dined within a couple of hours, I did not disturb him. I went to the steward, and gave him directions in regard to the lunch and dinner for the next day. Cornwood was smoking his cigar on the forecastle. I took the precaution to tell him that I wanted to see him in about half an hour or less, that he might not come into my room while I was engaged with Washburn.
I had done some thinking over the matter of eavesdroppers on board. I came to the conclusion that I would have nothing of the kind on board. I had entire confidence in the two engineers, one of whom was the son of my guardian in Montomercy, and the other had sailed with me since the Sylvania had come into my possession. Moses Brickland, the chief, was lying on a sofa in the engine-room. I called Ben, and told them both enough to enable them to understand the situation, and that some of the later additions to our ship's company might be eavesdroppers. I asked them to keep an eye on the open windows of my state-room, and let me know if there were any skulking or loitering near them. Moses seated himself at one door of the engine-room, and Ben at the other. They were on deck, next to the rail, where they could see the windows of my room. There was a skylight in the hurricane-deck overhead, which was always open in this climate when it did not rain. I said nothing about this opening, because I could hear any person's footsteps on the deck over me.
Washburn came on deck soon after I had made this little arrangement. We went into our room by mutual consent, for one had something to say, and the other wanted to hear it. I explained to him what I had done to trap any listener who might want to know what we said. He replied that he had thought of doing something of the kind himself; but he did not care to throw suspicion even upon Griffin Leeds by telling others the true story.
"Well, Washburn, did you find your man?" I asked.
"I am sorry to say I did not," he replied. "But I found where he boarded; and was told he was out, and would not return before nine or ten in the evening. I shall try again early in the morning, before he goes out for the day, for he takes only his breakfast at the house where he lodges."
"Where does he lodge?" I inquired.
Washburn gave me the street and number. It was not in the best part of the city by any means; and the mate inferred that he was not connected with the "first families." But he was none the worse for this. His landlord knew nothing about him, and had made him pay a week's board in advance.
We continued to talk about Cobbington for some time; but we were none the wiser when we got through than when we began. Suddenly we heard a tremendous scuffling overhead. It sounded as though two men or more were engaged in a severe conflict. After the first onslaught was over, the voices of two angry men were heard; and one of them was that of Ben Bowman. Both Washburn and I rushed out of the state-room, he at one door, and I at the other.
When we were able to see the combatants, they were found to be Ben Bowman and Griffin Leeds. Ben had by this time proved that he was the more powerful and efficient of the two, for the octoroon had been pinned, as it were, to the deck, so that he was unable to do anything but kick. The assistant engineer had him by the throat, and the listener's attempts to speak resulted in nothing but a hoarse, choking sound, which it was painful to hear. Griffin's strength was rapidly failing him under the severe treatment of the engineer.
Griffin Leeds At a DiscountGriffin Leeds At a Discount.Page 167.
In another minute, all hands were climbing the ladder to the hurricane-deck. I noticed that Cornwood came up from the forecastle over the top of the pilot-house, which I had forbidden any one on board to do, at the beginning of the voyage, to prevent injury to the paint. I concluded that Griffin had come up in the same way. The occasion of the strife was plain enough to me as soon as I discovered who were engaged in it. I felt a little cheap after all the precautions I had taken to prevent being overheard.
"Let him up, Ben," I said, when I thought he had done enough.
The engineer at once relinquished his hold on the octoroon, and stood up. But Griffin did not appear to be able to get up yet. Both of the men were gasping for breath, and neither of them was able to speak for some minutes. As the waiter lay on the deck, I noticed that he wore no shoes, though he had on a pair of woollen socks. I looked about for his shoes. I had not seen Griffin before since I came on board.
"It is plain enough what this affair means," I said to the mate, while we were waiting for Ben to get his breath, and to be able to explain what the occasion of the conflict was.
"It don't need a very long-headed man to explain it," replied the mate. "Griffin has been at the old trick again."
"What is the old trick, Mr. Mate?" demanded Cornwood, rather offensively.
"If you are a sailor, you will call me by my name," replied Washburn, with dignity.
"Excuse me, Mr. Washburn; but I am somewhat interested in one of the parties to this row," added Cornwood, as he glanced at me. "I meant no offence, but I was a little excited by the circumstances. I brought this man on board, and I am anxious to have him do his duty faithfully," answered Cornwood, with what seemed to me to be affected humility, for his eye still flashed, and he was evidently struggling to be calm. "Will you be kind enough to tell me, Mr. Washburn, what the old trick was?"
"Eavesdropping; listening to conversation not intended for him, which was going on in the captain's room," replied the mate, rather warmly.
"It is very strange to me, for I have known the boy for years, and I never heard any of his employers find fault with him before," added Cornwood. "I don't believe there is a better behaved boy in the State than Griffin Leeds. Excuse me for saying so much, which I should not have said if I had not brought the boy on board and recommended him to you."
I had no fault to find with his statement, as long as it was respectful. By this time Ben had got his wind again, and appeared to be ready to explain the reason for the conflict which had created such a sensation on board. All hands were on deck, gathered around the combatants. I was satisfied from the beginning that Ben had not begun the fight, for this was the first time I had ever known him to resort to violence, except when he had been ordered to do so by the mate in two instances, both of them being the expulsion from the vessel of Captain Boomsby.
"Well, how was it, Mr. Bowman?" I asked, calling him by his last name with a handle to it, as I always did in the presence of the ship's company.
"A few minutes before I came upon the hurricane-deck, sir, I thought there was something like motion forward of the foremast. I stood up, but I could not see anything or anybody. But I could not get it out of my head that something was going on there. I spoke to Mr. Brickland about it, and he told me to go up and see what it was."
"Where was Mr. Brickland at that time?" demanded Cornwood.
"Mr. Bowman is answering my question, Mr. Cornwood, and you will not interfere," I interposed, for the Floridian appeared to have taken upon himself the duty of counsel for the octoroon.
"I beg your pardon, captain," replied Cornwood with a deferential bow.
"I went to the ladder on the starboard side, and mounted to this deck. As soon as I got up here, I saw Griffin lying flat on his face, with his right ear at the opening under the sash of the skylight. I slipped off my shoes, and crept as lightly as I could to the place where Griffin lay. I had no idea of attacking him, and only intended to see what he was doing there. As soon as I was satisfied that he was listening to the conversation between you and Mr. Washburn, which I could hear, though I could not tell what you said, I just touched him on the shoulder. I meant to beckon him to come away from the skylight, but he did not give me time to do that. He sprang to his feet, and we all know he is a spry fellow, and pitched into me as though I had tried to murder him."
"You lie!" yelled the octoroon, with a savage oath. "You did try to murder me!"
Griffin leaped from his recumbent position, and, foaming with rage, drew a bowie-knife from his pocket, the long blade of which he threw open with a jerk of his hand. With the knife gleaming in the air, he rushed upon Ben Bowman. He would surely have plunged the blade into his intended victim, if Buck Lingley had not darted upon him as soon as he saw the knife. The deckhand was the stoutest person on board, and he bore the octoroon to the deck in an instant, and wrenched the knife from his grasp.
"Hold on to him a moment, Buck!" I called to him. "Get some line, and tie him hand and foot!"
Hop Tossford sprang to obey my order. He seized the end of a heave-line, and while Buck drew the arms of the waiter behind him, he secured them in this position with the assistance of the mate. This line was only for temporary use; and Hop soon brought a handful of pieces of whale-line from the store-room, and the prisoner was carefully secured. The octoroon struggled to escape, but the mate and Buck held him tight.
"Drop the starboard boat into the water," I continued. "Mr. Washburn, you will deliver him to the police of the city."
CHAPTER XVII.
POOR GRIFF AND HIS COUNSEL.
"Surely, Captain Garningham, you cannot mean to hand the man over to the police for getting into a common brawl," said Cornwood, when I had given my order.
"We don't allow brawls on board this steamer. This is the first one that ever occurred on the decks of this vessel," I replied, debating in my own mind whether or not I should discharge the Floridian, who seemed to be the real culprit, though of course I could not prove that he was the octoroon's principal in the business of eavesdropping.
"But this was simply a misunderstanding between the men; and both of them will be as good friends as ever before morning," pleaded Cornwood. "Mr. Bowman intended to do the boy no harm when he seized hold of him; and poor Griff thought he intended to kill him."
"That's just what I thought," replied the octoroon, who had entirely cooled off.
"But I didn't seize hold of him, as the gentleman says," interposed Ben Bowman. "I did not lay the weight of one hand on him; I only just touched him, as I said before; and I don't want anybody to say I seized hold of him. I didn't do anything of the sort."
"I lay down there and went to sleep, for I have had to work hard to-day. I lay in a hard position, and I suppose it was that which made me dream that somebody had struck me on the head, and was trying to murder me," Griffin explained, in the most humble tones. "I woke, and seeing a man bending over me, I thought the dream was a reality."
"Were you dreaming when you drew the knife, at least five minutes after you were pinned to the deck by Mr. Bowman?" I asked, sternly. "Your story is too thin."
"I was mad, crazy with excitement; I didn't know what I was doing," pleaded "poor Griff." "Don't give me over to the police! I never was before a court for anything in all my life! Forgive me this time, dear Captain!"
I was afraid I might do so if he talked to me long in this strain.
"Take him down to the boat! Obey your order, Mr. Washburn!" I said, with energy. "Take the knife with you, and deliver it to the police."
"Captain Garningham, I beg you to consider that you are doing a very great injustice to this boy, who, I am certain, intended no harm to anybody," interposed Cornwood again.
"I don't believe in the harmless intentions of a man who can draw a bowie-knife on another," I replied; and I had no more doubt of the octoroon's guilt than I had of my own existence.
"I am very sorry indeed that you should take so serious a view of what has proved a harmless affray," added Cornwood. "If you deliver him over to the police, which, as the captain of the vessel, you have a right to do, I suppose his case will be called to-morrow forenoon. I must ask leave of absence to act as his counsel."
I supposed this was said to remind me of the excursion of the next day, the news of which had been circulated from the steward's department. But the excursion made no difference to me; I felt that I had a duty to perform, and I was resolved to perform it, even if the excursion had to be postponed to another day. Griffin Leeds was carried into the boat, and the mate departed for the city with him.
"Now, Mr. Cornwood, I should like to see you in regard to the up-river trip," I said, as soon as the boat had left the steamer. "We leave on Monday."
"If this affair which has just occurred will permit us to do so," added the Floridian, rather stiffly.
"That need not detain us a single day," I replied, decidedly. "We have twice as many hands as we need for this river navigation; and we can spare all that may be needed as witnesses."
"But I have to remain to defend poor Griff, who, I am persuaded, is a victim of circumstances," said Cornwood, who evidently intended to make it plain I was to reap the bitter fruits of my folly in the dissatisfaction of my passengers, as they might not be inclined to stay after they had made up their minds to go.
"Then I shall be obliged to make the trip with a river pilot," I added promptly, for I did not intend that the Floridian should get ahead of me in this business.
The guide bit his lips, as though he did not quite like the situation. He knew enough of Owen Garningham to understand that, after he had made up his mind to start on the up-river trip on Monday, he would be determined to go in the face of all obstacles.
"I can hardly desert the poor fellow in his trouble," sighed Mr. Cornwood.
"That is a question you must decide for yourself," I replied, with as much indifference as I could assume. "It seems to me you make a light matter of a serious assault, and your sympathy is all with the man who committed it. You call him 'poor Griff,' as though he were a persecuted victim, instead of one who had raised his hand with a knife in it against one of the ship's company."
"I have a great regard for that boy, for he saved my life once when I fell overboard and was injured so that I could not swim, and there were three large sharks near the vessel. I should be inhuman to desert him, even if he were as guilty as you seem to think he is," continued the guide; but I was inclined to believe that his explanation was more than half an invention.
"In what court will this man be brought up?" I asked.
"He will be brought before the mayor, as magistrate; and if he considers it a simple assault, he will fine the boy, or send him to prison; if an assault with intent to kill, he will bind him over to a higher court for trial."
"In either case, the matter is likely to be disposed of in season for the excursion to-morrow forenoon. If he is bound over, we can appear, such of us as are required as witnesses, at the proper time," I replied, as off-hand as though I had been a lawyer all my days. "Now we will leave that question, and turn to others of more importance."
"It may be a matter of light importance to have the boy sent off to work with a prison-gang for two or three years, but I don't so regard it," growled Cornwood.
"When a man draws a knife on another, he needs the attention of the courts. You seem to be so accustomed to that sort of thing that you mind nothing about it. Where I come from we don't use knives with that sort of freedom."
"If it were not clearly a misunderstanding on the part of poor Griff, I wouldn't say anything more about it."
"It was no misunderstanding when Griffin leaped to his feet, at least five minutes after the struggle with the engineer, and rushed upon him with a knife. But we will say nothing more about it, anyhow. Colonel Shepard says the party wish to go up the river as far as Sanford and Enterprise, and up the Ocklawaha to Lake Griffin."
"As it seems to be very uncertain whether I go with you or not, I prefer to say nothing about the trip for the present," replied the Floridian, sulkily.
"Very well; then you will consider your engagement at an end," I added, without an instant's hesitation; and already I began to feel some relief at the idea of getting rid of a suspicious person.
My sudden decision did not seem to suit the guide any better than my position in regard to Griffin Leeds. I had risen from my chair at the desk, as though the business was finished, when I gave my decision; and by this time he could believe that I meant all I said.
"There will be time enough to settle this business after the court has met to-morrow morning," said he, with an evident intention of "backing down."
"But my passengers wish to know at once what the plan is, and I desire to procure a pilot for the excursion to-morrow," I replied.
"I will go with you on the excursion, whether I go up the river or not."
"No, you will not. I have no time to fool with you. I shall engage a pilot to-night for the up-river trip, if you cannot go with me," I added, indignantly.
"I think I can go with you; in other words, I will go with you. It is not possible to go up the Ocklawaha in this steamer," said Cornwood, suddenly changing front, somewhat to my regret. "The masts and yards would be carried away by the trees that overhang the stream, and she draws too much water for the Ocklawaha or the upper St. Johns."
"That matter is settled, then, and I will report to Colonel Shepard. Will you explain to me where we can go in this steamer."
The guide became as communicative as ever in a little while, and seemed to have forgotten the little difference which had threatened a serious rupture in our relations. He was as pleasant as though no cloud had passed between us. We discussed the up-river trip, and I made memoranda of what he said till ten o'clock, when we retired. If what he said about his obligations to Griffin Leeds was true, I could not blame him for wishing to stand by the waiter. But a fair statement of his relations, without any of the bullying he had attempted, would have accomplished his wishes better.
When I turned out in the morning, I found the mate had gone ashore. At half-past eight, as requested by the chief of police through Washburn, Ben Bowman and I went on shore to attend the mayor's court. I had started in season to call on Colonel Shepard, to whom I related all the events of the preceding evening, including my interview with the Floridian. The Colonel decided to ask his friend, Colonel Ives, a lawyer of influence, and a Floridian, to attend court with me.
Washburn was on hand in season, and the mayor listened to the testimony. Cornwood had his opportunity to badger the witnesses, and he made the most of it. The magistrate, in spite of the eloquence of the counsel for the defence, chose to regard the offence as a serious assault, and bound the prisoner over for his appearance at a higher court, three weeks hence. This was about the time we expected to be absent up the river, and I saw that the Colonel's friend had managed the case well without saying a word out loud. Cornwood found bail for the culprit, and he was released.
"I suppose he can return to his duties on board of the steamer," said the waiter's counsel.
"No, sir; I would not tolerate such a man on board any more than I would a rattlesnake," I replied.
I paid him his wages, and something more, on the spot; and when he left the court, his look and his manner indicated that he was more intent upon revenge than anything else. It was quarter of ten when the case was thus settled for the present, and we hastened to the wharf, and on board. I had engaged a large barge at the boat-wharf to put the passengers on board, and they were all taken off at one load.
We had the anchor up by the time they were alongside, and it was only a few minutes after ten when I rang the bell to go ahead.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE EXCURSION TO MANDARIN.
The band struck up a lively air as the boat started; and nothing could be more exhilarating than the strains of the music, in the soft sunshine and mild, sweet air of that semi-tropical region. It was March; but the air was like summer. As soon as we had passed the first bend, the St. Johns appeared more like a far-reaching lake than a stream. The river is from one to six miles wide below Pilatka. The shores are never elevated, for there is not a bluff upon it that is more than thirty feet high, while generally the land is only a few feet above the level of the water. The highest elevation near the river hardly exceeds sixty feet.
The country is almost wholly covered with woods, as seen from the river. With the exception of a few villages, hardly a house can be seen from the passing steamer. One seems to be nearly alone with nature while voyaging on this broad tide. The trees are pines and magnolias, and now and then one sees a patch covered with jasmine, the vine of which climbs the trees and shrubs, and blossoms there. There are plenty of flowers, even in the early spring. Compared with Maine or Michigan, where I had spent most of my life, it was fairy-land in March.
"What are you doing here, Cornwood?" asked Colonel Ives, as he entered the pilot-house, soon after we were under way.
The party was somewhat larger than it had been the day before, and both the Mayor and Colonel Ives, with their families, were on board.
"I am the pilot of this steamer for the present," replied Cornwood; and I thought he felt a little "cut" by the question.
"Isn't this a little derogatory to the profession?" laughed the Colonel.
"I don't practise at the bar much, as you are aware: my health does not admit of the confinement," the pilot explained.
"That is often the case with practitioners who don't have much to do in their profession."
"I have always had all I could do at the bar; but the open air and an active life agree best with me."
"It does with everybody who is short of cases."
"But he is a good pilot down the river, and I have no doubt he is just as good up the river, Colonel Ives," I interposed. "His knowledge of his native State surprises us all."
"I was only bantering him, captain," replied the passenger. "I think he is a very good lawyer too, though he did not have a good case this morning."
"When it comes to trial, I will show you that it is a better case than you think it is," replied Cornwood, with more spirit than he had before exhibited. "'Prisoners hang that hungry jurymen may dine,' and you and the Mayor were in a hurry to finish the case, so that you could join this excursion."
"I was not in the case," added the Colonel.
"But you prompted the magistrate to end it as soon as possible."
"What was the use of talking all day over a matter that was as plain as day? The rascal would have killed the engineer, if the deck-hands hadn't interfered," replied Colonel Ives. "The case might have been finished in ten minutes, as well as in three-quarters of an hour."
I was willing the lawyers should fight it out between themselves, and I left the pilot-house, which Owen and his ladies had not yet invaded. I saw Washburn on the top-gallant forecastle, looking at the scenery of the river, and I joined him in this retired place. I had not yet had an opportunity to ask him if he had found Cobbington, and I went to the forecastle for this purpose.
"I found him," replied the mate, in a disgusted tone. "But I might as well not have found him."
"Why so?" I inquired, rather amused by the manner of my friend.
"Since I came on board, I have found out something more than I knew before. Last evening, while you were ashore, Cornwood called a boat that was passing, and sent a letter ashore by the boatman," continued Washburn, as much dissatisfied as though he had been personally injured. "Of course that note went to Captain Boomsby."
"How do you know Cornwood sent a letter on shore last night?"
"Buck," called the mate to the deck-hand who was on duty forward.
"On deck, sir," replied Buck, touching his cap to the mate.
"You told me this morning, when you set me ashore, that the pilot sent a letter to the city last night by a boat he hailed."
"Yes, sir; three or four of us were on deck at the time, if there is any doubt about it," replied the deck-hand.
"No doubt at all about it. Did you notice the boatman that took the letter?"
"It was a blacky I have seen a dozen times about the steamer and on the wharf, looking for jobs for that boat-yard," replied Buck. "He was in the barge that brought off the passengers to-day."
"All right, Buck;" and the deck-hand retired. "After I heard about this letter, I didn't expect anything of Cobbington, if I found him."
"Did you find him?"
"I did; he was not out of his bed when I called for him. He told me he had two water moccasins, and one of them had got away while he had a room at Captain Boomsby's. He did not know what became of him. He had looked all about the house without being able to find him."
"Did he tell you what became of the other?"
"I asked him that question, and he told me he had him still. I asked him to let me see him, but he refused in spite of all I could say to induce him to show him. He said the snake was nailed up in a box, with only some holes bored in it to admit the air; and he could not show the snake without taking off the cover of the box. The moccasin was a dangerous fellow, and he didn't want to run any risks with him. He had left his last boarding-place because they killed a rattlesnake belonging to him. I asked him to show me the box, but he wouldn't even do that, and said it was all nonsense to show the box."
"You made up your mind that he had no moccasin?" I added.
"No more than I had. On my way down from the house I met his landlord, coming home from the market. He asked me if I had found Cobbington. I told him I had, and then informed him his lodger kept a live moccasin snake in his room. He was greatly astonished at what I told him, and declared that he wouldn't have a moccasin in his house for all the money there was in Jacksonville; the snake might get loose, and bite his wife or one of his children. He intimated that he should hasten home and turn Cobbington out of his house: he would not have any man under his roof who would endanger the lives of his wife and children."
"That was bad for Cobbington," I replied, with a smile.
"I told the landlord what his lodger said, that he had the moccasin nailed up in a box. He didn't care how he kept him: he would not have such a fellow about his house. I added that I did not believe Cobbington had any such snake in his room, though he insisted that he had. Then he either had a moccasin, or he lied about it, and in either case he didn't want the fellow in his house. I came to the conclusion that the landlord wanted to turn out his lodger, and only wished for a reasonable excuse for getting rid of him. I left him; and I suppose Cobbington has been turned out by this time. I shouldn't want a poisonous snake in my house."
"Nor a man who would lie without a reasonable excuse," I added.
The steamer went along at her usual speed. I returned to the pilot-house, where by this time Owen had installed all the young ladies he could get into it. They were all full of fun and jollity, and were enjoying the excursion to the utmost. As it seemed to me that they ought to do so, I found no occasion to complain. I could not help suspecting that the pilot might be guilty of some treachery, after the events of the morning, and I deemed it advisable to have a close watch upon him. But he kept the steamer in the middle of the river, where I had been informed there were no shoals; and certainly no rocks, for not one could be found in this part of the state, even big enough to stone a stray dog.
"Mulberry Grove on the right," said Cornwood, who did not neglect his duties as guide, while he attended to those of pilot.
We could see little besides a long pier, though there was a glimpse to be obtained of a house through the vista of trees.
Twenty minutes later we ran up to the pier at Mandarin, where the pilot made as handsome a landing as I ever saw in my life. It was half-past eleven when we had secured the steamer to the wharf. The band played some popular airs, and in a few minutes I judged that we had the entire population of the village on the wharf. It was a lively time for Mandarin, which is a remarkably quiet place. I believe I saw something like a store there, though I am not quite sure. About all the houses are on the bank of the river, and were reached by a long, narrow foot-bridge, built over the lagoon. From the main bridge, cross bridges extended to each house.
At twelve the lunch was ready, and the excursionists went down into the cabin to attend to it, while the band on the hurricane-deck continued to play. An oyster chowder and baked shad were the principal substantials of the lunch; and while they were served, Gopher was the greatest man on board. As soon as the lunch was disposed of, and the cook had been sufficiently complimented, the party went on shore. Cornwood led the way over the long foot-bridge.
"There is an alligator in the wild state," I said to Miss Margie, as I was walking with her and her father.
"I don't see anything," she replied.
"Don't you see that splashing in the water, with something black in the midst of it? That is an alligator, the first one I ever saw," I added.
It looked like a stick of wood. A little farther along we saw one on a log. He was not more than three feet long. He attracted the attention of the party, who had never seen one in his native element before; but we expected to see larger ones in the course of a week or two. Mrs. Stowe's cottage was one of the first we came to. It was a one-story, wooden house, with no pretensions to elegance. An immense live-oak grew near it, and covered the cottage with its branches. Around it was an orange grove, on the trees of which many oranges still remained. The distinguished lady was not at home, and we did not see her.
We walked to the end of the bridge, looking at the pretty dwellings on the shore, and then went upon the land, where we had quite a ramble. But an hour enabled us to see all there was of the place, and we embarked for the return. Before five o'clock we were in sight of Jacksonville. The pilot ran the boat as near the shore as it was safe to go, and the barge I had engaged to be present transported the party to the shore. Mrs. Mitchell's house looked very pleasant from the outside; but we were principally interested in the garden and orange grove. It was said that over five thousand oranges had been gathered from one of the trees we saw. We examined a great variety of semi-tropical trees and shrubs, such as lemon, banana, grape-fruit, and others I cannot remember.
The party dined on the river, and landed at the market at six.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE ADVENTURES OF AN INVALID.
Mr. Cornwood had been very polite and pliable all day, and his skill as a pilot won my commendation. When he expressed a desire to remain on shore, at the wharf, I did not object. As soon as the anchor was let go, all hands were piped to supper; but I was in no condition to take another meal that day, after the dinner with the excursionists, from which I had risen an hour before. I was glad to be alone in my state-room, after the excitement of the day. In spite of what had transpired in the morning, and in spite of the evidence obtained by Washburn in regard to the snake, I could not help wondering if, after all, the pilot was not innocent of any evil intentions.
It seemed to me that a man of his education, having a profession, could not take part in any small conspiracy, such as Captain Boomsby would be likely to get up. If either Cornwood or Griffin Leeds, his agent, intended to do me any harm, it seemed to me they had had abundant opportunity to do it already. The pilot might have wrecked the vessel, and the waiter might have poisoned the food I ate. I resolved to be very careful how I charged Cornwood with any evil, unless it was capable of being proved.
"I should like to go on shore, Alick, if you have nothing better for me to do," said Washburn, coming into my room when he had finished his supper.
"I have nothing for you to do," I replied. "What's up now?"
"I have some curiosity to know what has become of Cobbington; and I think I shall call upon his landlord," replied the mate, laughing.
"I will go with you, if you have no objection," I added.
"I should be glad of your company," said he, leading the way to the gangway. "Hold on a minute, captain," he added, when I began to order my boat. "There is the boatman that carried off Cornwood's letter. He is looking for a job: suppose we give him one?"
I did not object, and the mate hailed the boatman. We seated ourselves in his boat, and he pulled for the shore. Our uniforms gave us great distinction among the colored people. Very likely some of them thought we were United States naval officers: at any rate, they all treated us with "distinguished consideration."
"What's your name, boatman?" asked Washburn.
"Moses Dripple," replied the man.
"Well, Moses Dripple, were you alongside our steamer last evening?" continued the mate.
"Yes, sar; made a quarter taking a letter ashore," answered Moses, showing teeth enough for a full-grown alligator.
"Put it in the post-office, did you?" inquired Washburn, indifferently, as he looked behind him at the steamer.
"No, sar; didn't put it into the post-office; car'ed it to a saloon-keeper, and he gave me a drink of apple-jack, as soon as he had read it, for bringin' de letter."
"Is it possible that you drink apple-jack?" asked the mate, with some observations on the folly of drinking liquor.
"Drink it when I git it, sar."
"Where did you get your apple-jack?"
"At de saloon; where else would I get it, sar?"
"I suppose it made you so boozy you don't know where the saloon was," added the mate, keeping up his indifference, as though his talk was mere banter.
"It was de new saloon, sar; not boozy at all, sar; Captain Boomsby keeps dat saloon. Mighty mean man, Captain Boomsby. As soon as he done read de letter, he put on his coat, and left de saloon."
That was all that Washburn cared to know--that the letter from Cornwood had gone to Captain Boomsby; and he bestowed a look of triumph upon me. I paid the boatman a quarter, and we walked up to Bay Street. We had hardly turned the corner before we came plump upon a man who seemed to be very anxious to meet my friend and companion. I had never seen him before.
"Mr. Cobbington, this is Captain Garningham, of the steamer Sylvania," said Washburn, chuckling.
"How do you do, Mr. Cobbington," I replied.
"How are you, captain: I'm glad to see both of you," replied Cobbington. "One of you has got me into a bad scrape, for this morning, Gavett, the man I boarded with, turned me out of his house because I had a moccasin snake in a box in my room."
"Rough on you, was he?" added the mate.
"Mighty rough! I have been looking for another room all day, and I can't get one. I've got to sleep out-doors to-night," replied Cobbington, with a very long face.
"You shouldn't keep poisonous snakes in your room," I added.
"He never would have known it if this man hadn't told him," said the snake-man, turning to the mate. "I don't know your name, but you got me into a very bad scrape for an invalid; and that's the reason why I am down in Florida, instead of at home where I could earn a decent living," whined Cobbington. "I shall die in a week, if I have to sleep out in the night-air: and I don't know of even a shed to get under."
"It was no more than right to tell a man you had a poisonous reptile in his house," added Washburn. "The snake might have got out, and bitten his wife and children."
"Early this morning I paid Gavett the last dollar I had for the rent of the room; and I haven't had a mouthful to eat since I had my breakfast. How long can an invalid live, sleeping out-doors, with nothing to eat?" added Cobbington.
I saw the tears roll down the thin cheeks of the man, and my sympathies were excited. I saw it was the same with Washburn.
"I have been in to see Captain Boomsby; I had a room in his house for a while, and always paid for it. He wouldn't let me sleep on the floor in one of his empty chambers, nor give me anything to eat," continued the poor wretch.
"You shall have something to eat, and a place to sleep," I said.
We went over the way to Lyman's restaurant with him, and I ordered a sirloin steak and fried potatoes for him, with other food. When it came, he devoured it like a starving man. Whatever other lies he had told, it was the truth that he was very hungry.
"That is the best meal I have eaten since I came into Florida," said he with emphasis, when he had drained his coffee-cup. "Gentlemen, I am more than grateful to you. I have struggled hard to keep my soul and body together, and I've done it so far, though there isn't much left of my body. I could live here, if I could earn enough to live on. You have been kind to me; and now I'm going to tell you something: I have no moccasin-snake, and I never had one, say nothing of two. I know I'm a liar; but I told that lie for a dollar Boomsby gave me for telling it, so that I need not be turned out of my room. If I had that Judas dollar, I would send it back to Boomsby, and die with a clean conscience."
"It never pays to do wrong," I added, deeply moved by the invalid's story.
"I told Gavett I had no snake; but he turned me out, all the same. I showed him everything I had; and he could find no box for the snake: only a lot of baby alligators, that won't hurt anybody. I make a quarter now and then by selling them to the children at the hotels. I had to sell my gun I used to shoot alligators with for their teeth; my best clothes are pawned; and my trunk is about as empty as my stomach was half an hour ago. I have got about to the end of my rope; and I don't know what will become of me."
"We will see what we can do for you, Mr. Cobbington," I added. "What was your business at home?"
"I have done almost everything. I was brought up on a farm, and had a pretty good education. My father and mother both died, and my brother followed them, all in consumption. I went to teaching school, for we lost the farm, and I had to take care of myself before I was twenty. My health gave out, and I tried to work on a farm, but I wasn't strong enough. Then I went to tending table at a summer hotel, and saved about a hundred dollars. A man told me I should get well if I came to Florida. I thought I could make my living here, and I came. I brought a gun with me, and went into the woods. I shot deer, wild turkeys, and alligators. I sold the game and the teeth, and got along pretty well in the winter. Last summer I spent all the money I had left in coming down here. My health was pretty good then. I sold my gun for sixty dollars, half what it was worth, and did jobbing enough to keep me alive. I worked as a waiter on a steamer, in place of a sick man, for a month, and left the boat at Silver Spring, where the man took his place. I hired a gun, and tried to get a living by shooting again; but I couldn't find a market for the game. I had to give it up.
"I had a lot of alligators' teeth, a rattlesnake, which a gentleman on a steamer offered to give me ten dollars for in Jacksonville, and I worked my way down here. I sold the teeth; but the man that wanted the rattlesnake was at St. Augustine, and I had to wait till he came back, on his way north. Boomsby's wife turned me out when she found she didn't like me, and they killed the snake at the St. Johns. I couldn't stay there any longer now I had lost the ten dollars for the snake. My money was all gone; but I picked up a little selling babies."
"Selling babies!" exclaimed Washburn.
"Baby alligators, I mean," added Cobbington, with a languid smile. "My health was good while I was in the woods; I don't have any cough now, but I've been running down lately."
Poor fellow! My heart was touched for him. It was hard to grub for a bare subsistence, with the immediate prospect of dying in the street. Washburn looked expressively at me, and I nodded to him. We rose from the table, and told Cobbington to come with us. We took him to a clothing-house, fitted him out with a new suit, yacht-club style, with a white canvas cap like my own, except the gold band. We supplied him with under-clothing, and with everything he needed, even to handkerchiefs, socks, and shoes. Having obtained these, one-half of the cost of which Washburn insisted upon paying, we next visited a bath-house, where the invalid "washed and was clean." He then clothed himself in the new clothes, and came out of the bath-room looking like another person.
We went to the wharf, where we obtained a boat, and in a few minutes we were on board. I formally engaged the man to take the place of Griffin Leeds, as the waiter at the mess in the forward cabin. He had served in this capacity in an hotel, and on steamers on the St. Johns and Ocklawaha rivers. I gave him a berth in the forward cabin. I think he was happy when he turned into it.
On Sunday I went to church in St. James Square, and called upon Owen as I came out. Colonel Shepard informed me that he had chartered a steamer that plied on the Ocklawaha at times, to take us anywhere that a steamer could go. She was small, but large enough for our party.
I dined with the family and their guests, and went on board in the afternoon. The steward was entirely satisfied with the manner in which Cobbington had discharged his duties, and the invalid was the happiest man I had seen in the Land of Flowers.