Down South Part 5

"They haven't even given me their names; I know nothing whatever in regard to them. Rather than have them stay out in the street, I was ready to give up my room."

"It's all right, Alick. Give the lady my state-room, and I will take a berth. The curtains draw out in such a way as to make a little room in front of each bunk, and I shall be just as well off as in my room."

"I don't like to have you do this. Won't you take my room? I will have it fitted up for you in as good style as this cabin; and it is twice as large as this room."

"No, I thank you, Alick. I shall be very comfortable in one of these berths. Let me hear no more objections. Now bring the gentleman and his daughter down into the cabin, and a.s.sure them they are as welcome as they would be in their own house."

It was useless to say anything more to Owen; for when he insisted on having his own way, he had it. I went forward and invited the strangers below. Ben brought their trunks and other baggage after them, and they were soon installed in their new quarters.

"What a lovely little room!" exclaimed Miss Margie, as I showed the state-room. "It is ever so much nicer than the one I had in the steamer I came across the ocean in!"

"I am sorry I have not another state-room for you, sir," I said to her father, as I came out of the daughter's room. "But we will do the best we can for you."

I pulled out the slide to which the curtains were attached, in front of one of the berths.

"Nothing could be better than that," replied the gentleman, with enthusiasm. "We are better lodged than we were in that boarding-house.

The only fear is that we are intruding."

"Not at all, sir. The gentleman that charters the yacht wished me to say to you that you are as welcome as you could be in your own house."

"I will soon pay my respects to him. I dare say he is the owner of this delightful little craft."

"No, sir; he only charters her."

"And who is the owner of her?"

"I am the owner, sir."

"Bless me! You are quite a young man to be the owner of such a fine little vessel," said the new pa.s.senger. "Will you favor me with your name?"

"Alexander Garningham," I replied, not supposing my name could be of any particular consequence to him.

"Garningham! I half suspected it!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the gentleman. "I have a letter for you."

"A letter for me, sir!" I exclaimed, wondering who could have given him such a missive.

"It is very strange that I should stumble on you in this manner, when I have been looking for you all over the country," continued the gentleman, fumbling his pockets for the letter.

I almost came to the conclusion that he was a "fraud," trying to play some trick upon me, in the interest of Captain Boomsby, or some other designing person, when he produced the letter. He handed it to me. I instantly recognized the peculiar handwriting of my father. It thrilled me to my very soul. I glanced at the superscription. It was my name in the familiar writing. Under it was, "By the hand of the Hon. Pardon Tiffany."

"Mr. Tiffany, I am very happy to meet you," I said, when I had read what was on the outside of the letter.

"Captain Alick Garningham, I am more than happy to see you," he replied, grasping my hand. "I know all about you from your father."

I excused myself, and opened the letter; but it was only an introduction, written just before my father started for India. He spoke of Mr. Tiffany as his best and truest friend in England, who was to travel a year or more in America.

"How long have you been in this country, Mr. Tiffany?" I asked, thinking it very strange, from the date of the letter, that I had not seen him before.

"Less than four months. I was ill after your father started for India, and was unable to leave home till six months later than I had intended," he replied. "I suppose you hear from your father occasionally?"

"I have not heard from him since he left for India," I replied.

I saw that he knew nothing of the events which had occurred since I left Lake St. Clair. It took me an hour to tell the story in full. He seemed to be greatly astonished when I told him that the person who chartered the steam-yacht was my cousin, Owen Garningham. He knew most of the family, though he had never met Owen, who had been away at school, or on his travels on the Continent, when he visited my father.

Miss Margie had come out of her state-room some time before I finished my story; but she busied herself with a book till we had concluded our conference. I asked them both to go on deck with me, and I introduced them to my pa.s.sengers. Owen did not appear to know Mr. Tiffany, or to know of him when his name was mentioned. I thought it was best not to say anything at present. Both of the guests were treated with the utmost consideration and kindness by Owen and the Shepards. The story of the fire was rehea.r.s.ed, and Miss Margie was the heroine of the hour.

The afternoon was wearing away, and I had yet made no inquiries in regard to Cornwood. I knew not where to find the person to whom he had referred me at the house which had been burned. I ordered the boat again, and went on sh.o.r.e. I found a party at one of the hotels who had employed the Floridian, and they spoke in the highest terms of him. The natives of St. Augustine usually smiled when I asked about Cornwood; but no one said anything against him that I did not know--that he was "airy" and given to "brag." It was about dark when I returned, but the Floridian was still on board.

"I am sorry to hear that Colonel Estwell's house has been burned," said Cornwood, as I came on deck. "It was doing a good business, and the fire will be a heavy blow to the Colonel. I suppose you heard nothing bad about me."

"Nothing very bad. I engage you at the terms you named for the time the steam-yacht remains in Florida," I added. "You will have a berth in the forward cabin, and mess with the officers."

"You will have no occasion to regret what you have done," said the Floridian, confidently.

"I hope not. Now, can you find a waiter for me?" I continued, explaining the need of additional help in the steward's department.

"A waiter! Fifty more than there are in the city could find places in one hour," said he, laughing at the apparent absurdity of the question.

"However, as you have applied to me, I have no doubt I can find one for you."

"Do you think you can?" I asked, rather anxiously. "I have added two more persons to the company to be cared for at the cabin-table, and we shall get nothing to eat in the forward cabin if we don't have more help."

"You shall have a waiter if I have to take him out of the dining-room of the St. Augustine Hotel," replied Mr. Cornwood, with as much a.s.surance as though all the waiters in the city were under his charge.

I sent him ash.o.r.e in the starboard boat; and Buck and Landy, the crew, were glad to spend an hour in the city. In less than that time the Floridian returned, and with him was the waiter. When the new man came into my room to see me, I was not a little surprised to find he was the same "yellow man" I had seen in the boat that brought off the guide the first time he boarded the Sylvania.

He was a remarkably good-looking fellow, and I soon ascertained that he was as intelligent as he was handsome. His name was Griffin Leeds. He was neither a Spaniard nor an Italian, but an octoroon.

Both the guide and the waiter brought off their baggage in the boat.

Among the effects of Griffin Leeds I noticed a violin-case. Tom Sands, the cabin-waiter, whom I had obtained at Jacksonville, played the banjo in the most artistic manner. Neither of the waiters were any common sort of colored men; and I soon found that race distinctions were vastly more insisted on by these men than by any white man on board, unless it was the Floridian.

We had a full table in the forward cabin at supper that night, and Griffin Leeds showed that he thoroughly understood his business, and that he was active and zealous besides. I was very well pleased with him, and so were all the other officers of the steamer.

It was a bright moonlight evening, and the air was soft and balmy. I sat with the pa.s.sengers under the awning on the quarter-deck. By this time Edith and Margie had got along far enough to sit with their arms around each other's waists. One would think they had known each other for years, they were so affectionate. We were talking about the voyage down from the Great Lakes, when the attention of the whole party was attracted by the music of a violin on the hurricane-deck. The instrument was well played. Presently the volume of the music was increased by the addition of a banjo.

"That's good," said Owen. "I think music, even if it isn't first-cla.s.s, is delightful on the water."

"It is perfectly charming!" exclaimed Edith.

"It seems almost like fairy-land!" added Margie.

I saw that all hands were in the gangway; then a violoncello, of whose existence on board I was not aware, was pa.s.sed up to the hurricane-deck. Landy Perkins played on this instrument, which had been purchased at St. George. I knew that Ben Bowman had formerly played in the Montomercy Bra.s.s Band, and I saw him mount the ladder with his cornet. In a few minutes our band was playing "There's music in the air," though the first attempts were evidently not entirely satisfactory to the musicians. After an hour's practice together the music improved.

We sat on deck till a late hour. The next day, under the guidance of Mr. Cornwood, the party visited the coquina quarries on Anastasia Island, and wandered over the city again. In the evening the band played again, reinforced by the Floridian, who played the cornet. He told me confidentially that he was not in the habit of playing with "n.i.g.g.e.rs," but he was willing to do anything to contribute to the pleasure of the party. I thought it was very condescending in him.

After three days at St. Augustine we sailed for Jacksonville.