IX.
_TOBY'S PATIENT HAS A CALLER._
Mr. Bythewood had now taken his departure; Salina had been intrustedwith the secret; and Penn had been put to bed (as the rover correctlysurmised) in the corner bedchamber.
He had been diligently plucked; as much of the tar had been removed ascould be easily taken off by methods known to Stackridge and Toby, andhis wounds had been dressed. And there he lay, at last, in the soothinglinen, exhausted and suffering, yet somehow happy, thinking withgratitude of the friends God had given him in his sore need.
"Bress your heart, dear young massa!" said old Toby, standing by the bed(for he would not sit down), and regarding him with an unlimited varietyof winks, and nods, and grins, expressive of satisfaction with his work;"ye're jest as comf'table now as am possible under de sarcumstances. Ifdar's anyting in dis yer world ye wants now, say de word, and ol'Toby'll jump at de chance to fetch 'em fur ye."
"There is nothing I want now, good Toby, but that you and Carl shouldrest. You have done everything you can--and far more than I deserve. Iwill try to thank you when I am stronger."
"Can't tink ob quittin' ye dis yer night, nohow, massa! Mr. Stackridgehe's gone; Carl he can go to bed,--he ain't no 'count here, no way. ButI'se took de job o' gitt'n you well, Mass' Penn, and I'se gwine to putit frew 'pon honor,--do it up han'some!"
And notwithstanding Penn's remonstrances, the faithful black absolutelyrefused to leave him. Indeed, the most he could be prevailed upon to dofor his own comfort, was to bring his blanket into the room, and promisethat he would lie down upon it when he felt sleepy. Whether he kept hisword or not, I cannot say; but there was no time during the night when,if Penn happened to stir uneasily, he did not see the earnest, tender,cheerful black face at his pillow in an instant, and hear theaffectionate voice softly inquire,--
"What can I do fur ye, massa? Ain't dar nuffin ol' Toby can be a doin'fur ye, jes' to pass away de time?"
Sometimes it was water Penn wanted; but it did him really more good towitness the delight it gave Toby to wait upon him, than to drink thecoolest and most delicious draught fresh from the well.
At length Penn began to feel hot and stifled.
"What have you hung over the window, Toby?"
"Dat ar? 'Pears like dat ar's my blanket, sar. Ye see, 'twouldn't do,nohow, to let nary a chink o' light be seen from tudder side, 'cause dat'ud make folks s'pec' sumfin', dis yer time o' night. So I jes' sticksup my ol' blanket--'pears like I can sleep a heap better on de barfloor!"
"But I must have some fresh air, you dear old hypocrite!" said Penn,deeply touched, for he knew that the African had deprived himself of hisblanket because he did not wish to disturb him by leaving the room foranother.
"I'll fix him! Ill fix him!" said Toby. And he seemed raised to the verysummit of happiness on discovering that there was something, requiringthe exercise of his ingenuity, still to be done for his patient.
After that Penn slept a little. "Tank de good Lord," said the old negrothe next morning, "you're lookin' as chirk as can be! I'se a right smarthand fur to be nussin' ob de sick; and sakes! how I likes it! I'se gwineto hab you well, sar, 'fore eber a soul knows you'se in de house." YetToby's words expressed a great deal more confidence than he felt; for,though he had little apprehension of Penn's retreat being discovered, hesaw how weak and feverish he was, and feared the necessity of sendingfor a doctor.
Penn now insisted strongly that the old servant should not neglect hisother duties for him.
"Now you jes' be easy in yer mind on dat pint! Dar's Carl, tends toout-door 'rangements, and I'se got him larnt so's't he's bery good, berygood indeed, to look arter my cow, and my pigs, and sech like chores,when I'se got more 'portant tings on hand myself. And dar's Miss Jinny,she's glad enough to git de breakfust herself dis mornin'; only jes' Ikind o' keeps an eye on her, so she shan't do nuffin wrong. She an'Massa Villars come to 'quire bery partic'lar 'bout you, 'fore you wasawake, sar."
These simple words seemed to flood Penn's heart with gratitude. Tobywithdrew, but presently returned, bringing a salver.
"Nuffin but a little broff, massa. And a toasted cracker."
"O, you are too kind, Toby! Really, I can't eat this morning."
"Can't eat, sar? I declar, now!" (in a whisper), "how disappinted she'llbe!"
"Who will be disappointed?"
"Who? Miss Jinny, to be sure! She made de broff wid her own hands. Undermy d'rections, ob course! But she would make 'em herself, and took aheap ob pains to hab 'em good, and put in de salt wid her own purtyfingers, and looked as rosy a stirrin' and toastin' ober de fire as eberyou see an angel, sar!"
For some reason Penn began to think better of the broth, and, to Toby'sinfinite satisfaction, he consented to eat a little. Toby soon had himbolstered up in bed, and held the salver before him, and looked aperfect picture of epicurean enjoyment, just from seeing his patienteat.
"It is delicious!" said Penn; at which brief eulogium the whole rich,exuberant, tropical soul of the unselfish African seemed to expand andblossom forth with joy. "I shall be sure to get well and strong soon,under such treatment. You must let Carl go to Mrs. Sprowl's and fetch myclothes; I shall want some of them when I get up."
"Bress you, sar! you forgets nobody ain't to know whar you be! Mass'Villars he say so. You jes' lef' de clo'es alone, yit awhile. Wouldn'thab dat ar Widder Sprowl find out you'se in dis yer house, not if you'dgib me----"
Rap, rap, at the chamber door; two light, hurried knocks.
"Miss Jinny herself!" said old Toby, forgetting Mrs. Sprowl in aninstant. And setting down the salver, he ran to the door.
Penn heard quick whispers of consultation; then Toby came back, his eyesrolling and his ivory shining with a ludicrous expression of wrath andamazement.
"It's de bery ol' hag herself! Speak de debil's name and he's allus atde door!"
"Who? Mrs. Sprowl?"
"Yes, sar! and I wish she was furder, sar! She's a 'quirin' furyou,--says she knows you'se in de house, and it's bery 'portant she mustsee ye. But, tank de Lord, massa!" chuckled the old negro, "Carl'sforgot his English, and don't know nuffin what she wants! he, he, he! Orif she makes him und'stan' one ting, den he talks Dutch, and _she_ don'tund'stan.' And so dey'se habin' it, fust one, den tudder, while MissJinny she hears 'em and comes fur to let us know. But how de ol' crittereber found you out, dat am one ob de mysteries!"
"She merely guesses I am here," said Penn. "I'm only afraid Carl willoverdo his part, and confirm her suspicions."
"'Sh!" hissed Toby in sudden alarm. "She's a comin! She's a comin' rightup to dis yer door!" And he flew to fasten it.
He had scarcely done so when a hand tried the latch, and a voicecalled,--
"Come! ye needn't, none of ye, try to impose on me! I know you're inthis very room, Penn Hapgood, and you'll let me in, old friends so, I'mshore! I've bothered long enough with that stupid Dutch boy, and nowVirginny wants to keep me, and talk with me; but I've nothing to do withnobody in this house but _you_!"
Mrs. Sprowl had not been on amicable terms with her daughter-in-law'sfamily since Salina and her husband separated; and this last declarationshe made loud enough for all in the house to hear.
Penn motioned for Toby to open the door, believing it the better way toadmit the lady and conciliate her. But Toby shook his head--and his fistwith grim defiance.
"Wal!" said Mrs. Sprowl, "you can do as you please about lettin' a bodyin; but I'll give ye to understand one thing--I don't stir a foot fromthis door till it's opened. And if you want it kept secret that you'rehere, it'll be a great deal better for you, Penn Hapgood, to let me in,than to keep me standin' or settin' all day on the stairs."
The idea of a long siege struck Toby with dismay. He hesitated; but Pennspoke.
"I am very weak, and very ill, madam. But I have learned what it is tobe driven from a door that should be opened to welcome me; and I am notwilling, under any circumstances, to treat another as you last nighttreated me."
This was sp
oken to the lady's face; for Toby, seeing that concealmentwas at an end, had slipped the bolt, and she had come in.
"Wal! now! Mr. Hapgood!" she began, with a simper, which betrayed alittle contrition and a good deal of crafty selfishness,--"you mustn'tgo to bein' too hard on me for that. Consider that I'm a poor widder,and my life war threatened, and I _had_ to do as I did."
"Well, well," said Penn, "I certainly forgive you. Give her a chair,Toby."
Toby placed the chair, and widow Sprowl sat down.
"I couldn't be easy--old friends so--till I had come over to see how yoube," she said, folding her hands, and regarding Penn with a solemnpucker of solicitude. "I know, 'twas a dreadful thing; but it's somecomfort to think it's nothing I'm any ways to blame fur. It's hardenough for me to lose a boarder, jest at this time,--say nothing about afriend that's been jest like one of my own family, and that I've cooked,and washed, and ironed fur, as if he war my own son!"
And Mrs. Sprowl wiped her eyes, while she carefully watched the effectof her words.
"I acknowledge, you have cooked, washed, and ironed for me veryfaithfully," said Penn.
"And I thought," said she,--"old friends so,--may be you wouldn't mindmaking me a present of the trifle you've paid over and above what's duefor your board; for I'm a poor widder, as you know, and my only son is awanderer on the face of the 'arth."
Penn readily consented to make the present--perhaps reflecting that itwould be equally impossible for him ever to board it out, or get her toreturn the money.
"Then there's that old cloak of yourn," said Mrs. Sprowl,sympathizingly. "I believe you partly promised it to me, didn't you? Ican manage to get me a cape out on't."
"Yes, yes," said Penn, "you can have the cloak;" while Toby glared withrage behind her chair.
"And I considered 'twouldn't be no more'n fair that you should pay forthe----I don't see how in the world I can afford to lose it, bein' apoor widder, and live geeses' feathers at that, and my only son----" Shehid her face in her apron, overcome with emotion.
"What am I to pay for?" asked Penn.
"Fur, you know," she said, "I never would have parted with it fur anymoney, and it will take at least ten dollars to replace it, which ishard, bein' a poor widder, and as strong a linen tick as ever you see,that I made myself, and that my blessed husband died on, and helped mepick the geese with his own hands; and I never thought, when I took youto board, that ever _that_ bed would be sacrificed by it,--for 'twas onyour account, you are ware, it was took last night and done for."
"And you think I ought to pay for the bed!" said Penn, as muchastonished as if Silas Ropes had sent in his bill, "To 1 coat tar andfeathers, $10.00."
"They said I must look to you," whined the visitor; "and if you don'tpay fur't, I don't know who will, I'm shore! for none of them have sotat my board, and drinked of my coffee, and e't of my good corn dodgers,and slep' in my best bed, all for four dollars fifty a week, washing andironing throwed in, and a poor widder at that!"
"Mrs. Sprowl," said Penn, laughing, ill as he was, "have the kindnessnot to tell any one that I am here, and as soon as I am able to do so, Iwill pay you for your excellent feather-bed."
"Thank you,--very good in you, I'm shore!" said the worthy creature,brightening. "And if there's anything else among your things you canspare."
"I'll see! I'll see!" said Penn, wearily. "Leave me now, do!"
"But if you had a few dollars, this morning, towards the bed," sheinsisted, "for my son----" She almost betrayed herself; being about tosay that Lysander had arrived, and must have money; but she coughed, andadded, in a changed voice, "is a wanderer on the face of the 'arth."
Penn, however, reflecting that she would have more encouragement to keephis secret if he held the reward in reserve, replied, that he could notpossibly spare any money before collecting what was due him from thetrustees of the Academy. Her countenance fell on hearing this; and,reluctantly abandoning the object of her mission, she took her leave,and went home to her hopeful son.