"That is the best meal I have eaten since I came into Florida," said he with emphasis, when he had drained his coffee-cup. "Gentlemen, I am more than grateful to you. I have struggled hard to keep my soul and body together, and I've done it so far, though there isn't much left of my body. I could live here, if I could earn enough to live on. You have been kind to me; and now I'm going to tell you something: I have no moccasin-snake, and I never had one, say nothing of two. I know I'm a liar; but I told that lie for a dollar Boomsby gave me for telling it, so that I need not be turned out of my room. If I had that Judas dollar, I would send it back to Boomsby, and die with a clean conscience."

"It never pays to do wrong," I added, deeply moved by the invalid's story.

"I told Gavett I had no snake; but he turned me out, all the same. I showed him everything I had; and he could find no box for the snake: only a lot of baby alligators, that won't hurt anybody. I make a quarter now and then by selling them to the children at the hotels. I had to sell my gun I used to shoot alligators with for their teeth; my best clothes are p.a.w.ned; and my trunk is about as empty as my stomach was half an hour ago. I have got about to the end of my rope; and I don't know what will become of me."

"We will see what we can do for you, Mr. Cobbington," I added. "What was your business at home?"

"I have done almost everything. I was brought up on a farm, and had a pretty good education. My father and mother both died, and my brother followed them, all in consumption. I went to teaching school, for we lost the farm, and I had to take care of myself before I was twenty. My health gave out, and I tried to work on a farm, but I wasn't strong enough. Then I went to tending table at a summer hotel, and saved about a hundred dollars. A man told me I should get well if I came to Florida. I thought I could make my living here, and I came. I brought a gun with me, and went into the woods. I shot deer, wild turkeys, and alligators. I sold the game and the teeth, and got along pretty well in the winter. Last summer I spent all the money I had left in coming down here. My health was pretty good then. I sold my gun for sixty dollars, half what it was worth, and did jobbing enough to keep me alive. I worked as a waiter on a steamer, in place of a sick man, for a month, and left the boat at Silver Spring, where the man took his place. I hired a gun, and tried to get a living by shooting again; but I couldn't find a market for the game. I had to give it up.

"I had a lot of alligators' teeth, a rattlesnake, which a gentleman on a steamer offered to give me ten dollars for in Jacksonville, and I worked my way down here. I sold the teeth; but the man that wanted the rattlesnake was at St. Augustine, and I had to wait till he came back, on his way north. Boomsby's wife turned me out when she found she didn't like me, and they killed the snake at the St. Johns. I couldn't stay there any longer now I had lost the ten dollars for the snake. My money was all gone; but I picked up a little selling babies."

"Selling babies!" exclaimed Washburn.

"Baby alligators, I mean," added Cobbington, with a languid smile. "My health was good while I was in the woods; I don't have any cough now, but I've been running down lately."

Poor fellow! My heart was touched for him. It was hard to grub for a bare subsistence, with the immediate prospect of dying in the street.

Washburn looked expressively at me, and I nodded to him. We rose from the table, and told Cobbington to come with us. We took him to a clothing-house, fitted him out with a new suit, yacht-club style, with a white canvas cap like my own, except the gold band. We supplied him with under-clothing, and with everything he needed, even to handkerchiefs, socks, and shoes. Having obtained these, one-half of the cost of which Washburn insisted upon paying, we next visited a bath-house, where the invalid "washed and was clean." He then clothed himself in the new clothes, and came out of the bath-room looking like another person.

We went to the wharf, where we obtained a boat, and in a few minutes we were on board. I formally engaged the man to take the place of Griffin Leeds, as the waiter at the mess in the forward cabin. He had served in this capacity in an hotel, and on steamers on the St. Johns and Ocklawaha rivers. I gave him a berth in the forward cabin. I think he was happy when he turned into it.

On Sunday I went to church in St. James Square, and called upon Owen as I came out. Colonel Shepard informed me that he had chartered a steamer that plied on the Ocklawaha at times, to take us anywhere that a steamer could go. She was small, but large enough for our party.

I dined with the family and their guests, and went on board in the afternoon. The steward was entirely satisfied with the manner in which Cobbington had discharged his duties, and the invalid was the happiest man I had seen in the Land of Flowers.

CHAPTER XX.

DIFFICULTIES IN THE WAY OF DEPARTURE.

Except in Jacksonville, there was no market on the St. Johns River; and Mr. Peeks had been not a little disturbed in relation to the culinary department of the Sylvania. He could not go on sh.o.r.e at the villages on the river, and buy what he wanted; but with several steamers every day going up to Pilatka, and several every week going up the Ocklawaha, I a.s.sured him he would have no difficulty about feeding his pa.s.sengers.

He made an arrangement with the keeper of the stall where he had obtained his best meats to forward to him, on his order, such supplies as would be needed, including ice, which was a prime necessity, not so much to preserve the meats as to cool the water, and put various articles in condition for the table.

In spite of the general belief in the dampness of a Florida atmosphere, I learned that meats would keep longer than in Michigan. There are no cellars in Florida, and the dwelling-houses are usually set on posts planted in the ground. Meats are hung up in a shady place, where they will keep for a week or more; and even then they are dried up, instead of being tainted or putrefied. The steward had filled the ice-house with the best beef, mutton, and poultry he could find, most of which came from New York, though some of the Southern markets are supplied with beef from Tennessee and Kentucky. Most of the cattle of Florida range through the woods and pick up their living, so that they are not properly fatted for the market, and look like "Pharaoh's lean kine."

No particular hour had been fixed upon for starting on the up-river trip, but the pa.s.sengers came on board at ten in the forenoon. At this time steam was up in the boilers, and everything ready for an immediate departure. But Mr. Cornwood had not put in an appearance. I had not seen him since he went on sh.o.r.e at the wharf, on Sat.u.r.day evening. I was not much annoyed, for I knew where I could get a pilot at fifteen minutes' notice.

Chloe, Griffin Leeds's wife, had come off with the ladies. She remained perfectly neutral, though she knew all about the troubles with her husband. I looked at her with some interest when she came on deck; but she seemed to be as cheerful and pleasant as ever. If she had said anything to the ladies about Griffin, nothing had come to me. As her husband was not to be on board, I told the steward to give her one of the after-berths in the cabin. She was so polite, attentive, and kind, so wholly devoted to her duties, that the ladies had become very much attached to her, treating her more like a friend than a servant.

Chloe was not more than twenty-two years old. She had been a stewardess on a Charleston steamer, running up to Pilatka, at the time of her marriage to Griffin Leeds, who was second waiter in the same boat. She was entirely familiar with her duties, and when they were reduced to attendance upon three ladies, she discharged them with the most punctilious care.

"What are we waiting for, Alick?" asked Washburn, as I seated myself in the pilot-house when all the preparations for our departure were completed, and I could think of nothing more to be done, though I had left the port boat in the water in case it became necessary to go on sh.o.r.e for a pilot.

"Cornwood has not come off yet," I replied.

"Where is he?"

"I have no idea."

"Does he intend to play us a trick, and leave us in the lurch, now that we are all ready for a start?" asked the mate, with some anxiety on his face.

"I don't know, and I don't much care," I replied. "I don't know that I ought to blame him much, since no fixed hour was named for starting."

"He ought to be on board like the rest of us, so that whenever his services are required he may be ready to do his work," added Washburn, impatiently. "You say you don't much care whether or not he intends to play us a trick and leave us in the lurch. How are you to get on without a pilot?"

"I can have one on board in half an hour at the most. There are plenty of them, and I find they are glad to serve in such a n.o.bby craft as the Sylvania, where they have easy work and the best of grub," I replied.

"There comes a boat. I see the Panama hat and light clothes in it,"

added Washburn, evidently relieved, for he was impatient for the voyage to begin.

In a minute more the pilot was on the deck of the steamer.

"I hope I have not delayed you," said he, when he saw that we were all ready to leave.

"Not long," I replied, wishing to make things as pleasant as possible with him for the trip of three weeks.

"I did not know at what hour you intended to leave, or I should have been on board before," pleaded Cornwood. "I have been very busy with some legal business this morning."

"If you are all ready, we will be off at once," I continued.

I hastened to the pilot-house, expecting him to follow me; but instead of doing so, he pa.s.sed through the engine-room, and disappeared on the other side of the vessel. I concluded he had gone below for another coat he wore when at the wheel. I went into the pilot-house, thinking he would appear in a moment. The anchor was hove up to a short stay; but the wind was blowing quite fresh from the south-west, and I did not care to get under way in his absence from the wheel. I waited ten minutes; and then my patience began to give out. I left the pilot-house, with the intention of sending below for the pilot, when I was informed that a boat had just come alongside.

It contained Captain Boomsby and Griffin Leeds.

Though I had tried to make myself proof against harboring any suspicions, I thought the long delay of Cornwood was explained. He had been very busy with legal business that morning. Did it relate to the affairs of Griffin Leeds and my ancient enemy?

"Allow no one to come on board," I said to the mate, who had told me of the coming of the boat, and who were in it.

I went aft. The gangway steps had been taken in-board, and stowed away after Cornwood came. Captain Boomsby was rather more than half full of whiskey. I found there was a third person in the boat, who proved to be an officer. He had come to attach the steamer on the suit of Captain Boomsby, to obtain possession of her on his old claim, and to trustee Owen Garningham for any money that might be due to me. I allowed the officer to come on deck. He was a very gentlemanly man, and had applied to Colonel Ives when the writ was given to him. The colonel had filled out a bond as surety for the defendant, to be signed by Colonel Shepard; and that gentleman at once put his autograph on the doc.u.ment.

The officer was entirely satisfied, and was about to take his departure when Cornwood appeared; but he offered no objection, and the writ had not come from his office. Captain Boomsby was in a violent pa.s.sion when he learned that the steamer was to be allowed to proceed on her voyage up the river. He swore at the officer, and declared that he had not done his duty. The steamer belonged to him, and he insisted on coming on board.

"I came off for my wife," said Griffin Leeds. "I want her to go on sh.o.r.e with me."

This demand seemed to me a more serious complication than that of Captain Boomsby's ridiculous suit. I did not know much about law, but I had an idea that a man had a right to his own wife. Colonel Shepard was a lawyer, though he did not practise his profession, and I was entirely willing to leave this matter to him, for he was more interested in it than any other person, as his wife was an invalid, and needed Chloe's attentions more than the other ladies.

"Don't let her go," said the Colonel; and so said all the ladies.

"You can't separate man and wife," said Cornwood.

"We don't propose to separate man and wife," replied Colonel Shepard, before I had time to say anything. "If his wife wants to go, she is at perfect liberty to do so. Ask Chloe to come on deck," he added, turning to the steward.

The stewardess appeared a minute later.

"Here, Chloe, I want you to come on sh.o.r.e with me," shouted Griffin Leeds, when he saw his wife. "I have got a room all furnished for you, and I've got a situation as second waiter at a hotel."

"No, I thank you!" replied Chloe, pertly. "I'm going to stay where I am."