roads of destiny-第53节
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dy visitors。
The planter held at arm's length the unceremonious visitora long dangling black stocking。 〃It's loaded；〃 he announced。
As he spoke； he reversed the stocking； holding it by the toe； and down from it dropped a roundish stone； wrapped about by a piece of yellowish paper。 〃Now for the first interstellar message of the century！〃 he cried； and nodding to the company； who had crowded about him； he adjusted his glasses with provoking deliberation； and examined it closely。 When he finished； he had changed from the jolly host to the practical； decisive man of business。 He immediately struck a bell； and said to the silent…footed mulatto man who responded： 〃Go and tell Mr。 Wesley to get Reeves and Maurice and about ten stout hands they can rely upon； and come to the hall door at once。 Tell him to have the men arm themselves； and bring plenty of ropes and plough lines。 Tell him to hurry。〃 And then he read aloud from the paper these words：
To the Gent of de Hous：
Dere is five tuff hoboes xcept meself in the vaken lot near de road war de old brick piles is。 Dey got me stuck up wid a gun see and I taken dis means of communication。 2 of der lads is gone down to set fire to de cain field below de hous and when yous fellers goes to turn de hoes on it de hole gang is goin to rob de hous of de money yoo gotto pay off wit say git a move on ye say de kid dropt dis sock on der rode tel her mery crismus de same as she told me。 Ketch de bums down de rode first and den sen a relefe core to get me out of soke youres truly；
Whistlen Dick。
There was some quiet； but rapid； mavoeuvring at Bellemeade during the ensuring half hour； which ended in five disgusted and sullen tramps being captured； and locked securely in an outhouse pending the coming of the morning and retribution。 For another result； the visiting young gentlemen had secured the unqualified worship of the visiting young ladies by their distinguished and heroic conduct。 For still another； behold Whistling Dick； the hero； seated at the planter's table； feasting upon viands his experience had never before included； and waited upon by admiring femininity in shapes of such beauty and 〃swellness〃 that even his ever…full mouth could scarcely prevent him from whistling。 He was made to disclose in detail his adventure with the evil gang of Boston Harry； and how he cunningly wrote the note and wrapped it around the stone and placed it at the toe of the stocking； and； watching his chance； sent it silently； with a wonderful centrifugal momentum； like a comet； at one of the big lighted windows of the dining…room。
The planter vowed that the wanderer should wander no more； that his was a goodness and an honesty that should be rewarded； and that a debt of gratitude had been made that must be paid； for had he not saved them from a doubtless imminent loss； and maybe a greater calamity？ He assured Whistling Dick that he might consider himself a charge upon the honour of Bellemeade； that a position suited to his powers would be found for him at once； and hinted that the way would be heartily smoothed for him to rise to as high places of emolument and trust as the plantation afforded。
But now； they said； he must be weary； and the immediate thing to consider was rest and sleep。 So the mistress spoke to a servant； and Whistling Dick was conducted to a room in the wing of the house occupied by the servants。 To this room； in a few minutes； was brought a portable tin bathtub filled with water； which was placed on a piece of oiled cloth upon the floor。 There the vagrant was left to pass the night。
By the light of a candle he examined the room。 A bed； with the covers neatly turned back； revealed snowy pillows and sheets。 A worn； but clean； red carpet covered the floor。 There was a dresser with a beveled mirror； a washstand with a flowered bowl and pitcher； the two or three chairs were softly upholstered。 A little table held books； papers； and a day…old cluster of roses in a jar。 There were towels on a rack and soap in a white dish。
Whistling Dick set his candle on a chair and placed his hat carefully under the table。 After satisfying what we must suppose to have been his curiosity by a sober scrutiny； he removed his coat； folded it； and laid it upon the floor； near the wall； as far as possible from the unused bathtub。 Taking his coat for a pillow； he stretched himself luxuriously upon the carpet。
When； on Christmas morning； the first streaks of dawn broke above the marshes； Whistling Dick awoke； and reached instinctively for his hat。 Then he remembered that the skirts of Fortune had swept him into their folds on the night previous； and he went to the window and raised it； to let the fresh breath of the morning cool his brow and fix the yet dream…like memory of his good luck within his brain。
As he stood there； certain dread and ominous sounds pierced the fearful hollow of his ear。
The force of plantation workers； eager to complete the shortened task allotted to them； were all astir。 The mighty din of the ogre Labour shook the earth； and the poor tattered and forever disguised Prince in search of his fortune held tight to the window…sill even in the enchanted castle； and trembled。
Already from the bosom of the mill came the thunder of rolling barrels of sugar； and （prison…like sounds） there was a great rattling of chains as the mules were harried with stimulant imprecations to their places by the waggon…tongues。 A little vicious 〃dummy〃 engine； with a train of flat cars in tow； stewed and fumed on the plantation tap of the narrow…gauge railroad； and a toiling； hurrying； hallooing stream of workers were dimly seen in the half darkness loading the train with the weekly output of sugar。 Here was a poem； an epicnay； a tragedy with work； the curse of the world； for its theme。
The December air was frosty； but the sweat broke out upon Whistling Dick's face。 He thrust his head out of the window； and looked down。 Fifteen feet below him； against the wall of the house； he could make out that a border of flowers grew； and by that token he overhung a bed of soft earth。
Softly as a burglar goes； he clambered out upon the sill； lowered himself until he hung by his hands alone； and then dropped safely。 No one seemed to be about upon this side of the house。 He dodged low； and skimmed swiftly across the yard to the low fence。 It was an easy matter to vault this； for a terror urged him such as lifts the gazelle over the thorn bush when the lion pursues。 A crash through the dew… drenched weeds on the roadside； a clutching； slippery rush up the grassy side of the levee to the footpath at the summit； andhe was free！
The east was blushing and brightening。 The wind； himself a vagrant rover； saluted his brother upon the cheek。 Some wild geese； high above； gave cry。 A rabbit skipped along the path before him； free to turn to the right or to the left as his mood should send him。 The river slid past； and certainly no one could tell the ultimate abiding place of its waters。
A small； ruffled； brown…breasted bird； sitting upon a dog…wood sapling； began a soft； throaty； tender little piping in praise of the dew which entices foolish worms from their holes； but suddenly he stopped； and sat with his head turned sidewise； listening。
From the path along the levee there burst forth a jubilant； stirring； buoyant； thrilling whistle； loud and keen and clear as the cleanest notes of the piccolo。 The soaring sound rippled and trilled and arpeggioed as the songs of wild birds do not； but it had a wild free grace that； in a way； reminded the small； brown bird of something familiar； but exactly what he could not tell。 There was in it the bird call； or reveille； that all birds know； but a great waste of lavish； unmeaning things that art had added and arranged； besides； and that were quite puzzling and strange； and the little brown bird sat with his head on one side until the sound died away in the distance。
The little bird did not know that the part of that strange warbling that he understood was just what kept the warbler without his breakfast； but he knew very well that the part he did not understand did not concern him； so he gave a little flutter of his wings and swooped down like a brown bullet upon a big fat worm that was wriggling along the levee path。
XX
THE HALBERDIER OF THE LITTLE RHEINSCHLOSS
I go sometimes into the /Bierhalle/ and restaurant called Old Munich。 Not long ago it was a resort of interesting Bohemians； but now only artists and musicians and literary folk frequent it。 But the Pilsner is yet good； and I take some diversion from the conversation of Waiter No。 18。
For many years the customers of Old Munich have accepted the place as a faithful copy from the ancient German town。 The big hall with its smoky rafters； rows of imported steins； portrait of Goethe； and verses painted on the wallstranslated into German from the original of the Cincinnati poetsseems atmospherically correct when viewed through the bottom of a glass。
But not long ago the proprietors added the room above； called it the Little Rheinschloss； and built in a stairway。 Up there was an imitation stone parapet； ivy…covered； and the walls were painted to represent depth and distance； wi
