The Quadroon Part 36

As I approached this gentleman, he placed a gla.s.s upon the counter, and threw into it some broken fragments of ice. All this was done without a word having pa.s.sed between us.

I had no need to give an order. He saw in my eye the determination to drink.

"Cobbler?"

"No," said I; "a mint-julep."

"Very well, I'll mix you a julep that'll set your teeth for you."

"Thank you. Just what I want."

The gentleman now placed side by side two gla.s.ses--tumblers of large size. Into one he put, first, a spoonful of crushed white sugar--then a slice of lemon--ditto of orange--next a few sprigs of green mint--after that a handful of broken ice, a gill of water, and, lastly, a large gla.s.s measure of cognac. This done, he lifted the gla.s.ses one in each hand, and poured the contents from one to the other so rapidly that ice, brandy, lemons, and all, seemed to be constantly suspended in the air, and oscillating between the gla.s.ses. The tumblers themselves at no time approached nearer than two feet from each other! This adroitness, peculiar to his craft, and only obtained after long practice, was evidently a source of professional pride. After some half-score of these revolutions the drink was permitted to rest in one gla.s.s, and was then set down upon the counter.

There yet remained to be given the "finishing touch." A thin slice of pine-apple was cut freshly from the fruit. This held between the finger and thumb was doubled over the edge of the gla.s.s, and then pa.s.sed with an adroit sweep round the circ.u.mference.

"That's the latest Orleans touch," remarked the bar-keeper with a smile, as he completed the manoeuvre.

There was a double purpose in this little operation. The pine-apple not only cleared the gla.s.s of the grains of sugar and broken leaves of mint, but left its fragrant juice to mingle its aroma with the beverage.

"The latest Orleans touch," he repeated; "scientific style."

I nodded my a.s.sent.

The julep was now "mixed"--which fact was made known to me by the gla.s.s being pushed a little nearer, across the marble surface of the counter.

"Have a straw?" was the laconic inquiry.

"Yes; thank you."

A joint of wheaten straw was plunged into the gla.s.s, and taking this between my lips I drew in large draughts of perhaps the most delicious of all intoxicating drinks--the mint-julep.

The aromatic liquid had scarce pa.s.sed my lips when I began to feel its effects. My pulse ceased its wild throbbing. My blood became cool, and flowed in a more gentle current through my veins, and my heart seemed to be bathing in the waters of Lethe. The relief was almost instantaneous, and I only wondered I had not thought of it before. Though still far from happy, I felt that I held in my hands what would soon make me so.

Transitory that happiness might be, yet the reaction was welcome at the moment, and the prospect of it pleasant to my soul. I eagerly swallowed the inspiring beverage--swallowed it in large draughts, till the straw tube, rattling among the fragments of ice at the bottom of the gla.s.s, admonished me that the fluid was all gone.

"Another, if you please!"

"You liked it, I guess?"

"Most excellent!"

"Said so. I reckon, stranger, we can get up a mint-julep on board this here boat equal to either Saint Charles or Verandah, if not a leetle superior to either."

"A superb drink!"

"We can mix a sherry-cobbler too, that ain't hard to take."

"I have no doubt of it, but I'm not fond of sherry. I prefer this."

"You're right. So do I. The pine-apple's a new idea, but an improvement, I think."

"I think so too."

"Have a fresh straw?"

"Thank you."

This young fellow was unusually civil. I fancied that his civility proceeded from my having eulogised his mint-juleps. It was not that, as I afterwards ascertained. These Western people are little accessible to cheap flattery. I owed his good opinion of me to a far different cause--_the discomfiture I had put on the meddling pa.s.senger_! I believe he had also learnt, that it was I who had chastised the Bully Larkin! Such "feats of arms" soon become known in the region of the Mississippi Valley, where strength and courage are qualities of high esteem. Hence, in the bar-keeper's view, I was one who deserved a civil word; and thus talking together on the best of terms, I swallowed my second julep, and called upon him for a third, Aurore was for the moment forgotten, or when remembered, it was with less of bitterness. Now and then that parting scene came uppermost in my thoughts; but the pang that rose with it was each moment growing feebler, and easier to be endured.

CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.

A GAME OF WHIST.

In the centre of the smoking-saloon, there was a table, and around it some half-dozen men were seated. Other half-dozen stood behind these, looking over their shoulders. The att.i.tudes of all, and their eager glances, suggested the nature of their occupation. The flouting of pasteboard, the c.h.i.n.k of dollars, and the oft-recurring words of "ace,"

"jack," and "trump," put it beyond a doubt that that occupation was gaming. "Euchre" was the game.

Curious to observe this popular American game, I stepped up and stood watching the players. My friend who had raised the false alarm was one of them; but his back was towards me, and I remained for some time unseen by him.

Some two or three of those who played were elegantly-dressed men. Their coats were of the finest cloth, their ruffles of the costliest cambric, and jewels sparkled in their shirt bosoms and glittered upon their fingers. These fingers, however, told a tale. They told plainly as words, that they to whom they belonged had not always been accustomed to such elegant adornment. Toilet soap had failed to soften the corrugated skin, and obliterate the abrasions--the souvenirs of toil.

This was nothing. They might be gentlemen for all that. Birth is of slight consequence in the Far West. The plough-boy may become the President.

Still there was an air about these men--an air I cannot describe, but which led me at the moment to doubt their _gentility_. It was not from any swagger or a.s.sumption on their part. On the contrary, they appeared the _most gentlemanly_ individuals around the table!

They were certainly the most sedate and quiet. Perhaps it was this very sedateness--this polished reserve--that formed the spring of my suspicion. True gentlemen, bloods from Tennessee or Kentucky, young planters of the Mississippi coast, or French Creoles of Orleans, would have offered different characteristics. The cool complacency with which these individuals spoke and acted--no symptoms of perturbation as the trump was turned, no signs of ruffled temper when luck went against them--told two things; first, that they were men of the world, and, secondly, that they were not now playing their maiden game of "Euchre."

Beyond that I could form no judgment about them. They might be doctors, lawyers, or "gentlemen of elegant leisure"--a cla.s.s by no means uncommon in the work-a-day world of America.

At that time I was still too new to Far West society, to be able to distinguish its features. Besides, in the United States, and particularly in the western portion of the country, those peculiarities of dress and habit, which in the Old-World form, as it were, the landmarks of the professions, do not exist. You may meet the preacher wearing a blue coat and bright b.u.t.tons; the judge with a green one; the doctor in a white linen jacket; and the baker in glossy black broadcloth from top to toe!

Where every man a.s.sumes the right to be a gentleman, the costumes and badges of trade are studiously avoided. Even the tailor is undistinguishable in the ma.s.s of his "fellow-citizens." The land of character-dresses lies farther to the south-west--Mexico is that land.

I stood for some time watching the gamesters and the game. Had I not known something of the banking peculiarities of the West, I should have believed that they were gambling for enormous sums. At each man's right elbow lay a huge pile of bank-notes, flanked by a few pieces of silver-- dollars, halves, and quarters. Accustomed as my eyes had been to bank-notes of five pounds in value, the table would have presented to me a rich appearance, had I not known that these showy parallelograms of copper-plate and banking-paper, were mere "shin-plasters," representing amounts that varied from the value of one dollar to that of six and a quarter cents! Notwithstanding, the bets were far from being low.

Twenty, fifty, and even a hundred dollars, frequently changed hands in a single game.

I perceived that the hero of the false alarm was one of the players.

His back was towards me where I stood, and he was too much engrossed with his game to look around.

In dress and general appearance he differed altogether from the rest.

He wore a white beaver hat with broad brim, and a coat of great "jeans,"

wide-sleeved and loose-bodied. He had the look of a well-to-do corn-farmer from Indiana or a pork-merchant from Cincinnati. Yet there was something in his manner that told you river-travelling was not new to him. It was not his first trip "down South." Most probably the second supposition was the correct one--he was a dealer in hog-meat.

One of the fine gentlemen I have described sat opposite to where I was standing. He appeared to be losing considerable sums, which the farmer or pork-merchant was winning. It proved that the luck of the cards was not in favour of the smartest-looking players--an inducement to other plain people to try a hand.

I began to feel sympathy for the elegant gentleman, his losses were so severe. I could not help admiring the composure with which he bore them.

At length he looked up, and scanned the faces of those who stood around.

He seemed desirous of giving up the play. His eye met mine. He said, in a careless way--