CHAPTER XLIV.CLOSING THE SHUTTERS.
Jared Boyce had a taste for society, and managed to enjoy a good deal of it from the side-walk and park-benches wherein he could get an hour or two in the day-time, or close the grocery early enough to witness the outgoings or incomings of a fashionable party at night. Of course, this great entertainment at the Carters had been the excitement of the week in that corner store. Innumerable were the errands Boyce had run to milliners, thread needle stores, and apothecaries, in behalf of his mistress, who was so completely absorbed in her preparations, that she generally forgot to count the change brought back from these little excursions—a circumstance out of which he had made considerable profit.
On the eventful night, Boyce was as busy as a bee running up and down stairs, crossing the street for yards of ribbon, or papers of pins, holding consultations with Kate Gorman, and haunting the stables to make certain that the carriage would come in time. Now and then he got a glimpse of the mistress, who made a general dressing-room of the whole second floor, and betrayed the progress of her toiletmore frequently than she was conscious of. At such times Boyce would lean forward, with a hand on each knee, and exclaim, in the fullness of his admiration,
“Oh, my! Isn’t that dress agoing to put down the hull bilen of ’em. If there’s a more stupendous lady than she’ll be, I’d like to see her a going to the party, that’s all. Jim’s sister to think of evening herself agin us. White pigeons agin peacocks, with moons on their spread feathers! Bosh!”
Mrs. Smith heard these exclamations with no little elation; and Kate Gorman repeated them, with Hibernian improvements, that fairly took the good woman off her feet.
It was an important moment when Mrs. Smith descended to the store, with her red moire antique gathered up in voluminous folds around her person, and a huge bouquet in her hand.
When Boyce heard her step on the stairs, he fell to work at once, removed baskets of fruit, butter-tubs and fish-barrels from their places, and widened a safe passage for the gorgeous dress, which passed through, as it were, with a rustle and flutter of acknowledgment. This the mistress intensified, by a world of gracious thanks, and permission to close the store immediately after ten. This was exactly what Boyce had been aiming at, having made a private arrangement to go out with Kate Gorman.
The moment Smith’s carriage drove off, Boyce took authority on himself, and summoned James to action.
“Come along here and help put up the shutters. Haul them baskets inside, and don’t stuff your pockets full of cranberries, while you’re a doing it. I know yer tricks, old feller, so look sharp, if you want me to hold my tongue.”
James had just seen his sister come forth in her soft white raiment, and fresh flowers, on her way to the party, and felt some resentment at the disparaging remarks Boyce made about her. But he knew well enough that wordswould be of no avail with the young tyrant, and obeyed him in angry silence.
In a few minutes the shutters were closed, and even the coal-bin, which projected on the side-walk, was safely fastened. When this was done, Boyce led the way up stairs, and met Kate Gorman at the landing, with her shawl and bonnet on.
“They’re asleep at last,” she said, “all but Jerusha Maria; she holds out like a trooper, for the sight of that red dress just drove her wild, and she keeps snatching at the yeller feather yet. I gave her a double dose of paregoric, and got her under a little; but she’s wide awake yet.”
“Just in time,” Boyce broke in. “We shall have a good look at the whole crowd. Jimmy will take care that the young ones don’t fall out of bed. Just you go in there, old feller, and see that you stick to your post, and hold that precious little girl in your arms till she crows herself to sleep. It’s just the work for you.”
“I’ll go in, of course, because some one must take care of her,” said James; “but it’s too early to close up, and you have no business to go out so soon.”
“So soon,” cried Kate Gorman, tying her bonnet with an angry jerk. “Look at the clock.”
James did look at the little time-piece, in its square mahogany case, and was astonished to see that it only wanted a few minutes of ten o’clock.
Kate gave Boyce a knowing wink, and made a swift motion with her fingers, as if turning the pointers of a clock, which he understood, and answered with an approving nod.
“Not just yet,” said Boyce, as James was going into the sleeping-room where Jerusha Maria was making vigorous efforts to get out of her cradle. “You’ve got to go down, and lock us out. I’m not a going to carry a heavy key about in my pocket. Besides, safe bind and safe find is mymotto. So make sure you don’t go to sleep with the baby, for we depend on you to let us in, and so will the other party.”
James made no answer, but took the key that Boyce held out, and followed the two down stairs. The store was dark as midnight, for the shutters were firmly closed, and the candle which James carried, only gave out a faint circle of light, by which the clerk and housemaid found their way into the street.
James closed the door after them, locked it, and looked around for an iron bar, that usually stood back of the door, ready for the two staples sunk into the woodwork on either side. It was not to be seen. The boy held down his light, and searched for it in every place he could think of, but in vain.
“Boyce has flung it down somewhere, moving the things about,” he thought, a little anxiously. “It was awful careless of him; but there’s no need of it. The lock is strong enough, and I’m not likely to go to sleep.”
Just then the little girl up stairs gave an impatient yell, which drove all ideas of the bar out of the lad’s mind; with the key in his hand, he rushed up stairs, calling out cheerfully to the little night-hawk as he went.
During the next half hour James was busy carrying that spoiled child up and down the room, while she tugged viciously at his hair, sobbed, shrieked, and kicked her tiny feet against his chest, until even her unnatural energy gave out, and she fell asleep in his tired arms.
With the stealthy tread of a cat, and holding his breath, James laid the child in its crib, and sat down completely tired out. He had been busy all day, and excitement had taken away his appetite. He was not hungry now, but found his throat dry, and a feverish thirst upon him.
A pitcher of root beer stood on the table, with a tumbler, from which Boyce had drank before going out. The bottleof paregoric, brought from the druggist’s that afternoon, was on the window-sill close by, almost empty.
James took up the tumbler, filled it, and drank eagerly. It seemed a little strong, but he thought nothing of that until he noticed the vial on the window. Then he fancied a taste of paregoric in his mouth.
“I suppose they dropped the spoon into the glass, after the baby had done with it,” he thought. “But what a jolly dose they must have given her. There isn’t a teaspoonful left. How she will sleep, now that I’ve got her down.”
The boy seated himself by the crib, and began to swing it lightly to and fro, rather to keep himself busy, than from any idea of its usefulness. After awhile his eyes grew heavy, and his hand rested motionless on the crib. Then it fell away altogether, and, seated in the Boston rocking-chair, James slept as soundly as his little charge.
Once or twice the boy awoke with a start, as if some noise had aroused him; but his head was heavy, and his senses dull. Strive as he would to listen, sleep overpowered him, and was more and more profound as the night wore on.