CHAPTER XXVII.
THE RESULT OF AN EVENING WITH GENTLEMEN.
All the time that these smiling villains were by consummate art drawingtheir weak-headed victim into their tolls, what was August doing? Wherewere his prompt decision of character, his quick intelligence, his fineGerman perseverance, that should have saved the brother of JuliaAnderson from harpies? Could our blue-eyed young countryman, who knewhow to cherish noble aspirations walking in a plowman's furrow--could hestand there satisfying his revenge by witnessing the ruin of a young manwho, like many others, was wicked only because he was weak?
In truth, August was a man whose feelings were persistent. Hisresentment was--like his love--constant. But his love of justice washigher and more persistent, and he could not have seen any one fleecedin this merciless way without taking sides strongly with the victim.Much less could he see the brother of Julia tempted on to the rocks bythe false lights of villainous wreckers without a great desire to savehim. For the letter of Andrew had ceased now to burn in his pocket. Thatother letter--the only one that Julia had been able to send throughCynthy Ann and Jonas--that other letter, written all over with suchtender extravagances as love feeds on; the thought of that other letter,which told how beautiful and precious were the invitations to the wearyand heavy-laden, had stilled resentment, and there came instead a keendesire to save Norman for the sake of Julia and justice. But how to doit was an embarrassing question--a question that was more than Augustcould solve. There was a difficulty in the weakness and wrong-headednessof Norman; a difficulty in Norman's prejudice against Dutchmen ingeneral and August in particular; a difficulty in the fact that Augustwas a sort of a fugitive, if not from justice, certainly from injustice.
But when nearly a third of Norman's employer's money had gone into thegamblers' heap, and when August began to understand that it was anotherman's money that Norman was losing, and that the victim was threatenedby no half-way ruin, he determined to do something, even at the risk ofmaking himself known to Norman and to Parkins--was he Humphreys indisguise?--and at the risk of arrest for house-breaking. August actedwith his eyes open to all the perils from gamblers' pistols andgamblers' malice; and after he had started to interfere, the mud-clerkcalled him back, and said, in his half-indifferent way:
"Looky here, Gus, don't be a blamed fool. That's a purty little game.That greeny's got to learn to let blacklegs alone, and he don't looklike one that'll take advice. Let him scorch a little; it'll do himgood. It's healthy for young men. That's the reason the old man don'tforbid it, I s'pose. And these fellows carry good shooting-irons withhair-triggers, and I declare I don't want to be bothered writing home toyour mother, and explaining to her that you got killed in a fight withblacklegs, I declare I don't, you see. And then you'll get the 'old man'down on you, if you let a bird out of the trap in which he goes snucks;you will, I declare. And you'll get walking-papers at Louisville. Letthe game alone. You haven't got any hand to play against Parkins, nohow;and I reckon the greenhorns are his lawful prey. Cats couldn't livewithout mice. You'll lose your place, I declare you will, if you saya word."
THE MUD-CLERK]
August stopped long enough to take in the full measure of his sacrifice.So far from being deterred by it, he was more than ever determined toact. Not the love Julia, so much, now, but the farewell prayer andbenediction and the whole life and spirit of the sweet Moravian motherin her child-full house at home were in his mind at this moment. Thingswhich a man will not do for the love of woman he may do for the love ofGod--and it was with a sense of moral exaltation that August enteredinto the lofty spirit of self-sacrifice he had seen in his mother, andcaught himself saying, in his heart, as he had heard her say, "Let us doanything for the Father's sake!" Some will call this cant. So much theworse for them. This motive, too little felt in our day--too little feltin any day--is the great impulse that has enabled men to do the bravestthings that have been done. The sublimest self-sacrifice is onlypossible to a man by the aid of some strong moral tonic. God's love isthe chief support of the strongest spirits.
August touched Norman on the arm. The face of the latter expressedanything but pleasure at meeting him, now that he felt guilty. But thiswas not the uppermost feeling with Norman. He noticed that August'sclothes were spotted with engine-grease, and his first fear was ofcompromising his respectability.
In a hurried way August began to explain to him that he was betting withgamblers, but Smith stood close to them, looking at August in such acontemptuous way as to make Norman feel very uncomfortable, and Parkinsseeing the crowd attracted by August's explanations--which he made insome detail, by way of adapting himself to Norman--of the trick by whichthe upper card is thrown out first, Parkins said, "I see you understandthe game, young man. If you do, why don't you bet?"
At this the crowd laughed, and Norman drew away from the striker'sgreasy clothes, and said that he didn't want to speak any further to aburglar, he believed. But August followed, determined to warn himagainst Smith. Smith was ahead of him, however, saving to Norman, "Lookout for your pockets--that greasy fellow will rob you."
And Norman, who was nothing if not highly respectable, resolved toshake off the troublesome "Dutchman" at once. "I don't know what you areup to now, but at home you are known as a thief. So please let me alone,will you?" This Norman tried to say in an annihilating way.
The crowd looked for a fight. August said loud enough to be heard, "Youknow very well that you lie. I wanted to save you from being a thief,but you are betting money now that is not yours."
The company, of course, sympathized with the gentleman and against themachine-oil on the striker's clothes, so that there arose quickly amurmur, started by Smith, "Put the bully out," and August was "hustled."It is well that he was not shot.
It was quite time for him to go on watch now; for the loud-tickingmarine-clock over the window of the clerk's office pointed to threeminutes past twelve, and the striker hurried to his post at thestarboard engine, with the bitterness of defeat and the shame of insultin his heart. He had sacrificed his place, doubtless, and risked muchbeside, and all for nothing. The third engineer complained of histardiness in not having relieved him three minutes before, and Augustwent to his duties with a bitter heart. To a man who is persistent, asAugust was, defeat of any sort is humiliating.
As for Norman, he bet after this just to show his independence and toshow that the money was his own, as well as in the vain hope of winningback what he had lost. He bet every cent. Then he lost his watch, and athalf-past one o'clock he went to his state-room, stripped of all loosevaluables, and sweating great drops. And the mud-clerk, who was still inthe office, remarked to himself, with a pleasant chuckle, that it wasgood for him; he declared it was; teach the fellow to let monte alone,and keep his eyes peeled when he traveled. It would so!
The idea was a good one, and he went down to the starboard engine andtold the result of the nice little game to his friend the striker,drawling it out in a relishful way, how the blamed idiot never stoppedtill they'd got his watch, and then looked like as if he'd a notion tojump into the "drink." But 'twould cure him of meddlin' with monte.It would so!
He walked away, and August was just reflecting on the heartlessness ofhis friend, when the mud-clerk came back again, and began drawling hiswords out as before, just as though each distinct word were of adelightful flavor and he regretted that he must part with it.
"I've got you even with Parkins, old fellow. He'll be strung up on alamp-post at Paducah, I reckon. I saw a Paducah man aboard, and I put aflea in his ear. We've got to lay there an hour or two to put off ahundred barrels of molasses and two hundred sacks of coffee and two lotsof plunder. There'll be a hot time for Parkins. He let on to marry agirl and fooled her. They'll teach him a lesson. You'll be off watch,and we'll have some fun looking on." And the mud-clerk evidently thoughtthat it would be even funnier to see Parkins hanged than it had been tosee him fleece Norman. Gus the striker did not see how either scenecould be very entertaining. But he was sic
k at heart, and one could notexpect him to show much interest in manly sports.