Part 9 (1/2)

Uncle Nathan uttered a very peculiar ”O!” and, seemingly perfectly satisfied with this explanation, asked to be shown his berth. The captain consulted the clerk, and the clerk consulted the berth-book, which conveyed the astounding intelligence that the berths were all taken!

”All taken!” exclaimed Uncle Nathan, aghast. ”Haven't I paid for one?”

The gentlemanly clerk acknowledged that he _had_ paid for one, and kindly offered him a mattress on the floor, a.s.suring him that there would be plenty of berths after the boat got off.

Uncle Nathan did not see how this could be, and was informed that many berths taken were not claimed.[1]

[Footnote 1: Western steamers seldom start at the time they advertise, but wait until they are full of freight and pa.s.sengers. The latter are boarded on them from the time they take pa.s.sage, if they wish,--often a week or ten days. Berths are often engaged by ”loafers,” who eat and sleep on board, and grumble at the detention, but who suddenly decamp when the boat starts.]

Contenting himself with this explanation, Uncle Nathan sought the boiler deck again, to obtain the only possible oblivion for his uneasiness in the society of mongrel gentlemen and monstrous mosquitos. Those who have been subjected to these steamboat impositions will readily perceive that Uncle Nathan was in no very agreeable state of mind. He was, to a certain extent, home-sick. There was something in his expectant state, and something in the gloomy aspect of the low city with its cheerless lights, in the damp atmosphere and the clouds of mosquitos, to produce a sigh for home and its joys. If any one had hummed ”Sweet Home” in his ears, it would have brought the tears to his eyes. He thought of everything connected with his hallowed home: of the good-natured spinster who was his housekeeper, and of the ten-acre lots upon his farm; of the red steers and the gray mare; of the s.h.a.ggy watch-dog and the tabby-cat; of home in all its minutiae. Its familiar scenes visited him with a vividness which added ten-fold to their influence. He was as far abstracted as the mosquitos, which gathered in swarms upon every tenable spot of his flesh, would permit, when his meditations were disturbed by the gentleman who occupied the next chair. He wore the uniform of the army, and was battling the mosquitos with the smoke of a plantation cigar, which bore a very striking resemblance to those rolls of the weed vulgarly denominated ”long nines.”

This gentleman was Henry Carroll, who had been in waiting three days for the sailing of the Chalmetta. On his return from Georgia he had not deemed it prudent to visit Bellevue. Of the startling events which had transpired there since his departure he was in entire ignorance.

”No prospect of getting off to-night, is there?” said he to Uncle Nathan.

”Not the least,” replied the latter. ”The cap'n just told me the mail hadn't come, so he should have to wait till mornin'.”

Henry turned to Uncle Nathan rather sharply, to discover any mischief which might lurk in his expression. Perceiving that he looked perfectly sincere, and was innocent of any intention to quiz him, he merely uttered, in the most contemptuous tone, the single word ”Humbug!”

”You seem a leetle out o' sorts,” returned Uncle Nathan, piqued at the coldness with which his intelligence was received.

”Well, sir, I think I have very good reason to be so,” returned Henry; ”for I have lain about this boat, like a dead dragoon, for three days, in suspense.”

”You don't say so!” responded Uncle Nathan, with interest. ”When did they tell you they should start?”

”The captain said in about ten minutes,” answered Henry, with a smile.

”Good gracious! he told me the same thing!” said Uncle Nathan, astonished at the coincidence.

”But I knew he lied, when he said so; yet the boat seemed full of pa.s.sengers, and I did not expect to wait so long.”

”Don't you think they will get started to-morrow?”

”I cannot venture an opinion, having been so often deceived. The captain is trying to get a freight of soldiers on deck. The city is full of them now, returning to their respective states.”

”Then he has taken me in most outrageously,” said the New Englander, with emphasis.

”A very common occurrence, sir,” replied Henry, who now explained to his companion some of the tricks of Western steamboat captains.

”Is there no remedy?” asked Uncle Nathan, anxiously.

”Certainly; you can go in the next boat, if you choose. I shall take the 'Belle of the West,' which I am pretty well a.s.sured will sail to-morrow, if this one does not. But I prefer this, as many of my friends go in her.”

”But will they give you back your pa.s.sage-money again?” asked the economical Yankee.

”I have not paid it yet,” replied Henry, now understanding the position of his fellow-traveller.

”Then how did you secure a berth? The sign in the cabin says 'No berth secured till paid for.'”