Confessions Of Con Cregan Part 35

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"The 'Christobal' sails to-morrow," said he, "for Galveston; but even she, smart sailer that she is, will scarce arrive in time to catch these fellows. Here we are at the fifth of the month: the eighth was to be the start; then that, supposing you to reach Galveston by the seventh, gives you no time to get your kit ready, look after arms, and buy a nag. What say you, then, if we make a party of our own,--charter one of these small craft?--a hundred dollars or so will do it. We can then take our time to pick up good cattle, look out for a couple of mules for our baggage, and a spare mustang or so, if a horse should knock up."

I concurred at once; the plan was fascination itself. Adventure, liberty, novelty, enterprise, and a dash of danger to heighten all!

Falkoner talked of dollars as if they macadamized the road to St. Louis; and I, glowing with punch and pride together, spoke of the expense as a mere trifle. To this hour, I cannot say whether I had really mystified myself into the notion that I possessed ample means, or was merely indulging the pa.s.sing pleasure of a delightful vision. So was it, however; I smiled at the cheapness of everything, could scarcely fancy such a thing as a Mexican pony for eighty dollars, and laughed--actually laughed--at the price of the rifle, when all my worldly substance, at the moment, would not have purchased copper caps for it.

"Don't go too expensively to work, Cregan," cried he, "and, above all, bring no European servant. A Mexican fellow--or, better still, a half-breed--is the thing for the prairies. You have to forget your Old World habits, and rough it."

"So I can," said I, laughing good-humoredly; "I 'm in a capital mind for a bit of sharp work too. Just before I left the 90th, we made a forced march from St. John's through the forest country, and I feel up to anything."

"You'll not like the cattle at first, I'm afraid," said he. "They have that racking action the Yankees are fond of. There is a capital mare at Galveston, if we could get her. These fellows will snap her up, most likely."

"Butcher's mare," said I, hazarding a guess.

"Ah, you 've been looking after her already," said he, surprised.

"Well, to tell you the truth, that was one of my objects in coming here to-night. I heard that some of these skipper fellows had got the winning ticket: I paid twenty dollars to the office-clerk to see the number, and determine to buy it up. Here it is. Can you read these figures? for, hang me if the punch, or the heat, or the dancing, has not made me quite dizzy."

"Let me see: Number '38," said I, repeating it a couple of times over.

"Yes, that is it. If I could have chanced on it, I 'd have run down to-morrow by the 'Christobal.' She lies about a mile out, and will weigh with the ebb, at eight o'clock. That mare--she killed Butcher by a down leap over a rock, but never scratched herself--is worth at least a thousand dollars."

"I offered eight hundred for her on mere character," said I, sitting back, and sipping my liquid with a most profound quietude.

Falkoner was evidently surprised with this announcement; but more so from the rakish indifference it betrayed about money, than as bespeaking me rich and affluent. And thus we chatted away till the black waiter made his appearance to open the windows and prepare for the work of the day.

"Where are you stopping?" said Falkoner, as we arose from the table.

"At Condor House," said I, boldly giving the name of a very flash hotel.

"But it's too noisy; I don't like it."

"Nor do I. It's confoundedly expensive, too. I wish you would come to Herrick's; it is not quite so stylish, perhaps, but I think the cookery is better, and you 'd not pay five dollars a bottle for Madeira, and eight for Champagne."

"That _is_ smart," said I. "They 've not let me have my bill yet; but I fancied they were costly folk."

"Well, come and dine with me at Herrick's to-morrow, and decide for yourself."

"Why not try the Condor with me?" said I.

"Another day, with all my heart; but I have a friend to-morrow, so come and meet him at six o'clock."

I agreed; and then we chatted on about London and town folks in a way that, even with all I had drunk, amazed me for the cool impudence in which I indulged.

"You knew De Courcy, of course," said he, after a long run of mutual friends had been disposed of.

"Jack?" cried I,--"Jack De Courcy, of the Cold-streams,--yes, I think I did. Jack and I were like brothers. The last steeplechase I rode in Ireland was for poor Jack De Courcy: a little chestnut mare with a good deal of the Arab about her."

"I remember her well,--an active devil, but she could n't go for more than half a mile."

"Well, I managed to screw a race out of her."

"You must tell me all about that to-morrow; for I find my unfortunate head is like a bell with the vibration of the last stroke of the hammer on it. Don't forget,--to-morrow, sharp six. You 'll meet n.o.body but Broughton."

"Dudley,--Sir Dudley Broughton?"

"The same. You know him, then, already? Poor fellow! he's terribly cut up; but he 'll be glad to see an old friend. Have you been much together?"

"A great deal. I made a cruise with him in his yacht, the 'Firefly.'"

"What a rare piece of fortune to have met you!" cried Falkoner, as he shook my hand once more. And so, with the most fervent a.s.surances of meeting on the morrow, we parted,--he, to saunter slowly towards his hotel; and I, to stand in the middle of the street, and, as I wiped the perspiration from my brow, to ask myself, had I gone clean mad.

I was so overwhelmed by the shock of my own impudence that I stood where Falkoner left me, for full five minutes, motionless and spell-bound.

To have boasted of my intimacy with Captain De Courcy, although the Atlantic rolled between us, was bad enough, in all conscience; but to have talked of Sir Dudley--the haughty, insolent, overbearing Sir Dudley Broughton--as "my old friend," was something that actually appalled me.

How could my vain boastfulness have so far got the better of my natural keenness; how could my silly self-sufficiency have carried me so far? "Ah," thought I, "it was not the real Con Cregan who spoke such ineffable folly; these were the outpourings of that diabolical 'Thumbo-rig.'"

While, therefore, I entered into a bond with myself to eschew that insidious compound in future, I also adopted the far more imminent and important resolve, to run away from New Orleans. Another sun must not set upon me in that city, come what might. With a shudder, I called to mind Sir Dudley's own avowal of his pa.s.sion as a hater, and I could not venture to confront such danger.

I accordingly hastened to my miserable lodging, and, packing up my few clothes, now reduced to the compa.s.s of a bundle in a handkerchief, I paid my bill, and, on a minute calculation of various pieces of strange coinage, found myself the possessor of four dollars and a quarter,--a small sum, and something less than a cent for every ten miles I was removed from my native land. What meant the term "country," after all, to such as me? He has a country who possesses property in it, whose interests tie him to the soil, where his name is known and his presence recognized; but what country belongs to him where no resting-place is found for his weary feet, whose home is an inn, whose friends are the fellow-travellers with whom he has journeyed? The ties of country, like those of kindred, are superst.i.tions,--high and holy ones sometimes, but still superst.i.tions. Believe in them if you can, and so much the better for you; but in some hour the conviction will come that man is of every land.

Thus pondering, I trudged along at a smart pace, my bundle on a stick over my shoulder, never noticing the road, and only following the way because it seemed to lead out of the city. It was a gorgeous morning; the sun glittered on the bright roofs, and lit up the gay terraces of the houses, where creepers of every tint and foliage were tastefully entwined and festooned, as these people knew so well to dispose.

Servants were opening windows, displaying handsomely-furnished rooms, replete with every luxury, as I pa.s.sed; busy housemaids were brus.h.i.+ng, and sweeping, and polis.h.i.+ng; and s.h.i.+ning n.i.g.g.e.rs were beating carpets and shaking hearthrugs, while others were raking the gravel before the doors, or watering the rich magnolias and cactuses that stood sentinel beneath the windows. Carriages, too, were was.h.i.+ng, and high-bred horses standing out to be groomed,--all signs of wealth and of the luxuries of the rich men, whose close-drawn curtains portended sleep. "Ay," thought I, "there are hundreds here, whose weightiest evil would be that they awoke an hour earlier than their wont; that their favorite Arab had stood on a sharp stone; that some rude branch had scratched the rich varnish on their chariot: while I wander along, alone and friendless, my worldly substance a few dollars." This disparity of condition of course occurs to the mind of every poor man; but it only is a canker to him who has had a glimpse, be it ever so fleeting, of a life of luxury and ease.

For this reason, the servant-cla.s.s will always be a great source of danger to our present social condition; seeing the weakness, the folly, and sometimes the worse than folly of those they serve, viewing, from a near point, the interior lives of those who, seen from afar, are reckoned great and ill.u.s.trious,--they lose the prestige of respect for the distinguis.h.i.+ng qualities of station, and only yield it to the outward symbols,--the wealth and riches. What Socialists are our butlers; what Democrats our footmen; what Red Republicans are our cooks; what a Leveller is the gardener! For all your "yellow plush," you are Sans-culottes, every man of you.

Now, I deem it a high testimony to my powers of judgment that I never entertained these views. On the contrary, I always upheld the doctrine that society, like a broken thigh-bone, did best on an "inclined plane,"

and I repudiated equality with the scorn a man six feet high would feel were he told that the human standard was to be four and a half. The only grudge I did feel towards the fortunate man of wealth was that I should lose so many brilliant years of life in acquiring--for acquire it I would--what I would far rather employ in dispensing. A guinea at twenty is worth a hundred at thirty, a thousand at forty, a million at sixty,--that's the geometrical mean of life. Glorious youth, that only needs "debentures" to be divine!

My head became clearer and my brain more unclouded as I walked along in the free air of the morning, and I felt that with a cigar I should both compose my vagrant fancies, and cheat myself out of the necessity of a breakfast. Excellent weed! that can make dulness imaginative, and imagination plodding; that renders stupid men companionable to clever ones, and gives a meek air of thought to the very flattest insipidity!

I searched my pocket for the little case that contained my Manillas, but in vain; I tried another,--like result. How was it? I always carried it in my great-coat: had I been robbed? I could not help laughing at the thought, it sounded so ineffably comic. I essayed again, alas! with no better success. Could I have placed it in the breast-pocket? What! there is no breast-pocket! How is this, Con? Has Thumbo-rig its influence over you yet? I pa.s.sed my hand across my brow, and tried to remember if the breast-pocket had only been a tradition of another coat, or what had become of it. Pockets do not close from being empty, like county banks, nor do they dry up, like wells, from disuse.

"No, no; there certainly was once one here." As I said this, what was my amazement to find that the pocket for which I had been searching had changed sides, and gone from left to right! "Oh, this is too bad!"

thought I; "with a little more punch, I could have fancied that I had put my coat on wrong-sided. Here is a mystery!" said I, "and now, to solve it patiently;" and so I sat me down by the wayside, and, laying my bundle on the ground, began to reflect.

Reflection, I soon found, was of no use. Habit--the instinct of custom--showed me that my pocket had always been to the left; my right hand sought the spot with an almost mechanical impulse, whereas my left wandered about like a man in search of his newly-taken lodging. As I came to this puzzling fact, my fingers, deeply immersed in the pocket, came in contact with a small leather case. I drew it forth; it was not mine,--I had never seen it before! I opened it; there was nothing within but a small piece of card, with the words, "Full Share Ticket," on top, and, underneath, the figures, '"38."

From the card, my eyes reverted to the coat itself; and now I saw, with a surprise I cannot convey, that it was not my own coat, but another man's, I was wearing. The negro at the ordinary had a.s.sisted me to put it on. It was the only one, indeed, remaining, as I came away, and some other had carried off mine. So far, it was a fair exchange, of which I was not in any way accountable, seeing that I performed a mere pa.s.sive part; taking--and even that unwillingly--what was left me. Certain threadbare symptoms about the cuffs, and a missing b.u.t.ton or two, also showed me that I was no gainer by the barter. Was it worth while to go back? Were the chances of recovering my own equal to the risk of being myself discovered? I thought not. It was decidedly a shabby investment, and, now that I examined it more closely, a very miserable subst.i.tute for my own. I was vexed at the occurrence, and could not help reflecting, in very severe terms, upon the breach of honor such an act displayed. "Lie down with dogs, Master Con," says the adage, "and see if you don't get up with fleas!" "Such company as you pa.s.sed the evening with were a.s.suredly not above a piece of roguery like this." Falkoner it could not be; and I own that I was glad to know that, since he was much taller than me; nor could I remember one who was near enough my own size to make me suppose him the culprit; and so I ended by attributing the knavery to the negro, who probably had kept this ancient vestment for a moment of subst.i.tution.

It may be inferred, from the difficulty of solution in the case of this very simple occurrence, that my faculties were not pre-eminently clear and lucid, and that the vapor of the Thumbo-rig still hung heavily over me; such, I am bound to own, was the fact. Every event of the previous night was as shadowy and imperfect as might be. It was only during the last half-hour of my conversation with Falkoner that I was completely conscious of all said and done around me. Previous to this, my mind had established a kind of Provisional Government over my rebellious ideas, and, like most such bodies, its edicts had little force, for they were based on but a weak prestige.

Now then came a question of this strange-looking piece of card, with the numbers on which, by some wonderful process, I seemed to myself perfectly familiar,--nay, I felt that they were, from some hidden cause, recorded facts in my memory. All I could remember of the night before threw little light upon the matter, and I wondered on, striving to pierce the dull mist of uncertainty that enveloped all my thoughts; by this time, I had reached the bank of the river, and could perceive, about half a mile off, down the stream, a tall-masted smack getting ready for sea,--her blue-peter fluttered at the mast-head, and the pleasant "yo-ho!" of the sailors kept time with the capstan-bars as they heaved at the anchor. The wind was a nor'-wester, and beat with impatient gusts the loose canvas that hung ready to be shaken out, while the stream rushed rapidly along her sides.

"Would I were to sail in you, wherever your voyage tended!" was my exclamation; and I sat down to watch the preparations, which the loud commands of the skipper seemed to hasten and press forward. So occupied was I with the stir and bustle on board the craft, where everything was done with a lightning speed, that I did not remark a boat's crew who sat leaning on their oars beside the wall of the stream; and it was only when an accidental sound of their voices struck me that I saw them.

"That's a signal to come away, Ben!" said one of the men. "He 'll not wait no longer!"

"And why should he lose a tide for any land-lugger of them all? It's not every day, besides, we get a nor'-wester like this!"

"Well, what d'ye mean to do?" asked the former speaker.

"Give him ten minates more, Ben," cried another. "Let's have a chance of a dollar apiece, anyhow!"

"There goes a shot!" said the man called Ben, as he pointed to the smack, from whose bow-port the smoke was lazily issuing. "I'll not stay here any longer; shove her away, lads!"

Confessions Of Con Cregan Part 35

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Confessions Of Con Cregan Part 35 summary

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