CHAPTER IV.
A TRIP UP THE SAN SEBASTIAN.
Strange as it may seem, the Shepards, though they had resided twowinters in Jacksonville, had never been to St. Augustine, or even upthe St. Johns River. The state of Mrs. Shepard's health had notpermitted her to travel for several years, until the preceding summer.They had simply left the ancient city and the up-river glories of "TheLand of Flowers" to a more propitious season in the future.
"How do you like the looks of St. Augustine, Miss Edith?" I asked,after we had passed the civilities of the moment, though I did notventure to present Mr. Kirby Cornwood to the party.
"I like it well enough," replied the pretty young lady, with somethinglike a yawn. "But I am getting tired of it so soon; for we have seen somany old Spanish cities in Spain and in the West Indies, that St.Augustine reads like an old story."
The face of the native Floridian wore an expression of horror as helistened to the remark of Miss Edith. Possibly he might have abated hisastonishment at this partially unfavorable opinion of his native cityif he had known that she and Owen spent most of their time in thinkingof other matters than an old city.
"I am delighted with the place," added Mrs. Shepard. "But we passvarious objects of interest without knowing what they are. We have noteven a guide-book to help us out."
Mr. Cornwood smiled, but he said nothing. I wondered that he did notoffer his services to the lady; but he manifested what seemed to be avery strange modesty for him, standing a little apart from the rest ofus, and not even looking at the pretty face of Miss Edith. I took theliberty to introduce the Floridian. He removed his Panama, and bowedlow when I mentioned his name; but he did not even speak, much lessindulge in any of his pretentious speeches. The walk was resumed, andin the course of the forenoon we had explored the city, from Fort SanMarco, on the north, to the point at the south of the city.
Mr. Cornwood proved that he knew all about St. Augustine. I had studiedthe history of the place and the state very carefully during theleisure hours of the voyage from the Bermudas, and I was able toconfirm the truth of all he said, so far as my knowledge extended,though he went far beyond me. In a little while he was the very centreof the party. It is true that Owen several times requested him to "cutit short," at which the Floridian did not seem to be at all offended;but he soon found that the rest of the company did not wish to haveeven the historical portions of the guide's discourse abbreviated.
I do not intend to give the history or describe the objects of interestwe saw in Florida, except incidentally, for it would take all my spaceto do these, and I do not pretend to do much more than tell my story. Imust say that I was very much interested in the history anddescriptions of Mr. Cornwood; and I have no doubt my readers would beequally interested, if I had pages enough at my disposal to includethem.
The Floridian did his duty modestly, though he had become the mostimportant person of the party for the time being. There was not aparticle of the "brag" and pretension which had caused me to distrusteverything he said. As we walked from place to place he kept at arespectful distance from the passengers, and never intruded himselfupon them, though he was always ready to answer any questions. After athree-hours' run we returned to the pier.
I had expected that the party would prefer to go on shore, after theirsea-voyage, and take up their residence for our stay at the principalhotel; but they manifested no such intention. As they had taken nothingon shore with them, I had told the steward to have dinner ready forthem at the usual hour. The port quarter-boat, which was mine, had cometo the landing-place, and the party embarked. I invited Mr. Cornwood togo on board with me, and he accepted the invitation. He took his placein the fore-sheets of the boat, apparently for the purpose ofmaintaining his respectful distance from the passengers.
In a few minutes we were on the deck of the Sylvania. The passengersretired to the cabin, and Cornwood followed me to my state-room. Assoon as we entered the apartment his manner underwent a sudden change.He was as free and familiar as he had been at our interview on board inthe morning. As I interpreted his conduct, he considered himself on anentire equality with me, while he intended to treat my passengers withthe utmost deference and respect. I did not object to his view of therelations to be maintained to my passengers and myself; on thecontrary, his view was precisely my own.
"What is your price for the service you propose to render, Mr.Cornwood?" I asked, when we were seated.
"Five dollars a day, including Sundays," he replied, without anyhesitation. "Of course this salary is besides my board and allexpenses."
"That is only three times my own wages," I added with a smile.
"If you will engage me for a year, I will call it fifty dollars amonth, and be glad to make this slight reduction of two-thirds," heanswered promptly, and with the most easy assurance. "I can make hayonly when the sun shines, captain; and I could make more at your wagestwice over than I can at my own. The year is not often more than fourmonths long for my business. I attend upon first-class parties only,and I charge eight dollars a day when I am engaged for only a singleweek. Your party want to go up the St. Johns for at least a month.However, if you object to the price, there is a party at the St.Augustine Hotel who want me for a week to go to Indian River with them.They are willing to give me ten dollars a day; but I prefer to go withyour party at the price I named."
"I am very much obliged to you for this mark of consideration on yourpart," I replied. "Though you are a perfect stranger to me, I supposeit would not be regarded as an insult for me to ask for anytestimonials."
"Not at all. Though I could procure a bushel or two of them, I do nothappen to have any with me; but I will refer you to the landlords, andto any resident of St. Augustine."
He seemed to be ready to answer anything I could ask him, and he nameda dozen persons of whom I might inquire in regard to him. While thepassengers were on shore in the forenoon, I had directed the hands tospread the awnings on the quarter-deck and forecastle. When dinner wasover the party seemed to be very well satisfied to remain on boardafter their walk, for after the sea-voyage the exertion tired them.Owen told me they should not go on shore again, and I decided toinquire into the character and antecedents of Mr. Cornwood.
When we came up from dinner I found Owen smoking his cigar on theforecastle. My passenger asked Cornwood a question, and they were soonengaged in conversation in regard to Florida. Taking the port boat,with Ben Bowman and Hop Tossford, I left the steamer. I did not eventake the trouble to tell the Floridian where I was going. If myinquiries were satisfactorily answered, I intended to engage him forthe time we remained in Florida. He had mentioned the name of a familythat boarded on the west side of the city, near the San SebastianRiver, and I decided to make the first inquiries there.
I steered the boat around the point into the river, and soon passed themore thickly settled portion of the town. Orange groves lined theshore, and the fragrant jasmine scented the air. If I had not been allwinter in the tropics, I should have gone into ecstasies over the scenethat was spread out before me. But orange groves were nothing new to menow, and I was familiar with banana and palm trees.
I could not be insensible to the beauties of the region, and in thatmild atmosphere I could not help enjoying it. On the shore were thedwellings of wealthy men who spent their winters in this delightfullocality. Soon we came to a house, on the very bank of the river, witha kind of pier built out into the river, at which several sail and rowboats were moored. This was the large boarding-house to which I hadbeen directed by the Floridian.
I identified it from his description some time before we reached it. Asthe boat approached the house, and I ran in towards the pier, I noticedthere was a great commotion in the vicinity. The inmates were rushingout of the house, negroes were running here and there, apparentlywithout any settled purpose, and not a few women were screaming.
"I wonder what the matter is at that house," I said to the oarsmen, whowere back to the scene, and could see nothing of it.
> "Matter enough, I should say," replied Ben Bowman, who pulled thebow-oar, as he looked behind him. "The house is on fire!"
The immense live-oaks that half concealed the house from my view hadprevented me from seeing the volume of smoke and flame that was risingfrom one corner of the mansion. The fire had already made considerableprogress.
"Give way, lively, my men!" I called to the rowers. "We shall be neededthere."
Ben and Hop pulled a strong stroke, and they exerted themselves untilthe oars bent before their vigorous muscles. I headed the boat for somesteps I saw on the pier, and in a few moments more we were withinhailing distance of the wharf.
"Way enough!" I called to the oarsmen. They ceased rowing, and broughttheir oars to a perpendicular, man-of-war fashion, as required by ourboat-drill.
Ben Bowman went to the bow, fended off, and then jumped ashore with thepainter in his hand. Hop Tossford and I followed him in good order, asall were instructed to move when in the boats; and in a moment we wereon the pier. My men broke into a run for the scene of the fire; but Imoved more slowly, and studied the situation as I walked up the wharf.
The inmates of the house and the neighbors who had gathered appeared tobe in utter confusion, and incapable of doing anything, if there wasanything that could be done. It seemed to me that the fire hadprogressed too far to be checked, and that the entire destruction ofthe house was inevitable. But certainly some portion of the property inthe building could be saved, and the people seemed to have no powereven to attend to this duty. Our boat's crew could set a good examplein this way, if in no other; and I hurried my steps as soon as I coulddecide what to do.
As soon as I reached the garden in the rear of the house, I found therewas something more important to be done than saving furniture. Agentleman whom I judged to be about forty years of age was on the pointof rushing into the burning house when he was held back by others. Theysaid the stairs were already in flames, and the second story could bereached only from the outside.
"My daughter is asleep in the corner-room!" gasped the gentleman,pointing to the window of the chamber.
The next instant Hop Tossford was running up the posts of the veranda.