"I suspect you are not nearer the mark than your friends, sir," said Layton, still repressing the slightest show of impatience.

"What'll you lay, stranger, I don't hit it?" cried a tall, thin, bold-looking fellow, with long hair falling over his neck. "You're a preacher, ain't you? You're from the New England States, I 'll be bound.

Say I 'm right, sir, for you know I am."

"I must give it against you, sir, also," said Layton, preserving his gravity with an effort that was not without difficulty. "I do not follow any one of the avocations you mention; but, in return for your five questions, may I make bold to ask one? Which is the hotel here?"

"It's yonder," said the tall man, pointing to a large house, handsomely pillared, and overgrown with the luxuriant foliage of the red acanthus; "there it is. That's the Temple of Epicurus, as you see it a-written up.

You ain't for speculatin' in that sort, are you?"

"No," said Layton, quietly; "I was merely asking for a house of entertainment."

"You 're a Britisher, I reckon," said one of the former speakers; "that 's one of _their_ words for meat and drink."

Without waiting for any further discussion of himself, his country, or his projects, Layton walked towards the hotel. From the two upper tiers of windows certain portions of military attire, hung out to air or to dry, undeniably announced a soldierly occupation; cross-belts, overalls, and great-coats hung gracefully suspended on all sides. Lower down, there was little evidence of habitation; most of the windows were closely shuttered, and through such as were open Layton saw large and lofty rooms, totally destitute of furniture and in part unfinished. The hall-door opened upon a spacious apartment, at one side of which a bar had been projected, but the plan had gone no further than a long counter and some shelves, on which now a few bottles stood in company with three or four brass candlesticks, a plaster bust, wanting a nose, and some cooking-utensils. On the counter itself was stretched at full length, and fast asleep, a short, somewhat robust man, in shirt and trousers, his deep snoring awaking a sort of moaning echo in the vaulted room. Not exactly choosing to disturb his slumbers, if avoidable, Layton pushed his explorations a little further; but though he found a number of rooms, all open, they were alike empty and unfinished, nor was there a creature to be met with throughout. There was, then, nothing for it but to awaken the sleeper, which he proceeded to, at first by gentle, but, as these failed, by more vigorous means.

"Don't! I say," growled out the man, without opening his eyes, but seeming bent on continuing his sleep; "I 'll not have it; let me be,--that's all."

"Are you the landlord of this hotel?" said Layton, with a stout shake by the shoulder.

"Well, then, here's for it, if you will!" cried the other, springing up, and throwing himself in an instant into a boxing attitude, while his eyes glared with a vivid wildness, and his whole face denoted passion.

"I came here for food and lodging, and not for a boxing-match, my friend," said Layton, mildly.

"And who said I was your friend?" said the other, fiercely: "who told _you_ that we was raised in the same dig-gin's? and what do you mean, sir, by disturbin' a gentleman in his bed?"

"You'll scarcely call that bench a bed, I think?" said Layton, in an accent meant to deprecate all warmth.

"And why not, sir? If you choose to dress yourself like a checker-board, I 'm not going to dispute whether you have a coat on. It's _my_ bed, and I like it And now what next?"

"I 'm very sorry to have disturbed you; and if you can only tell me if there be any other hotel in this place--"

"There ain't; and there never will be, that's more. Els-more's is shut up; Chute Melchin 's a-blown his brains out; and so would _you_ if you 'd have come here. Don't laugh, or by the everlastin' rattlesnake, I 'll bowie you!"

[Illustration: 444]

The madly excited look of the man, his staring eyes, retreating forehead, and restless features made Layton suspect he was insane, and he would gladly have retired from an interview that promised so little success; but the other walked deliberately round, and, barring the passage to the door, stood with his arms crossed before him.

"You think I don't know you, but I do; I heerd of you eight weeks ago; I knew you was comin', but darm me all blue if you shall have it. Come out into the orchard; come out, I say, and let's see who's the best man.

_You_ think you 'll come here and make this like the Astor House, don't ye? and there 'll be five or six hundred every night pressing up to the bar for bitters and juleps, just because you have the place? But I say Dan Heron ain't a-goin' to quit; he stands here like old Hickory in the mud-fort, and says, try and turn me out."

By the time the altercation had reached thus far, Layton saw that a crowd of some five-and-twenty or thirty persons had assembled outside the door, and were evidently enjoying the scene with no common zest.

Indeed, their mutter-ings of "Dan 's a-givin' it to him," "Dan 's full steam up," and so on, showed where their sympathies inclined. Some, however, more kindly-minded, and moved by the unfriended position of the stranger, good-naturedly interposed, and, having obtained Layton's sincere and willing assurance that he never harbored a thought of becoming proprietor of the Temple, nor had he the very vaguest notion of settling down at Bunkumville in any capacity, peace was signed, and Mr.

Heron consented to receive him as a guest.

Taking a key from a nail on the wall, Dan Heron preceded him to a small chamber, where a truckle-bed, a chair, and a basin on the floor formed the furniture; but he promised a table, and if the stay of the stranger warranted the trouble, some other "fixin's" in a day or two.

"You can come and eat a bit with me about sun-down," said Dan, doggedly, as he withdrew, for he was not yet quite satisfied what projects the stranger nursed in his bosom.

Resolved to make the best of a situation not over-promising, to go with the humor of his host so far as he could, and even, where possible, try and derive some amusement from his eccentricities, Layton presented himself punctually at meal-time. The supper was laid out in a large kitchen, where an old negress officiated as cook. It was abundant and savory; there was every imaginable variety of bread, and the display of dishes was imposing. The circumstance was, however, explained by Heron's remarking that it was the supper of the officers of the detachment they were eating, a sudden call to the frontier having that same morning arrived, and to this lucky accident were they indebted for this abundance.

An apple-brandy "smash" of Mr. Heron's own devising wound up the meal, and the two lighted their cigars, and in all the luxurious ease of their rocking-chairs, enjoyed their post-prandial elysium.

"Them boots of yours is English make," was Mr. Heron's first remark, after a long pause.

"Yes, London," was the brief reply.

"I 've been there; I don't like it."

Layton muttered some expression of regret at this sentiment; but the other not heeding went on:--

"I 've seen most parts of the world, but there ain't anything to compare with this."

Layton was not certain whether it was the supremacy of America he asserted, or the city of Bunkumville in particular, but he refrained from inquiring, preferring to let the other continue; nor did he seem at all unwilling. He went on to give a half-connected account of a migratory adventurous sort of life at home and abroad. He had been a cook on shipboard, a gold-digger, an auctioneer, a showman, dealt in almost every article of commerce, smuggled opium into China and slaves into New Orleans, and with all his experiences had somehow or other not hit upon the right road to fortune. Not, indeed, that he distrusted his star,--far from it He believed himself reserved for great things, and never felt more certain of being within their reach than at this moment.

"It was I made this city we 're in, sir," said he, proudly. "I built all that mass yonder,--Briggs Block; I built the house we 're sitting in; I built that Apollonicon, the music-hall you saw as you came in, and I lectured there too; and if it were not for an old 'rough' that won't keep off his bitters early of a mornin', I 'd be this day as rich as John Jacob Astor: that's what's ruined me, sir. I brought him from New York with me down here, and there 's nothing from a bird-cage to a steam-boiler that fellow can't make you when he's sober,--ay, and describe it too. If you only heerd him talk! Well, he made a telegraph here, and set two saw-mills a-goin', and made a machine for getting the salt out of that lake yonder, and then took to manufacturing macaroni and gunpowder, and some dye-stuff out of oak bark; and what will you say, stranger, when I tell you that he sold each of these inventions for less than gave him a week's carouse? And now I have him here, under lock and key, waiting till he comes to hisself, which he's rather long about this time."

"Is he ill?" asked Layton.

"Well, you can't say exactly he's all right; he gave hisself an ugly gash with a case-knife on the neck, and tried to blow hisself up arter with some combustible stuff, so that he's rather black about the complexion; and then he's always a-screechin' and yellin' for drink, but I go in at times with a heavy whip, and he ain't unreasonable then."

"He's mad, in fact," said Layton, gravely.

"I only wish you and I was as sane, stranger," said the other. "There ain't that place on the globe old Poll, as we call him, could n't make a livin' in; he's a man as could help a minister with his discourse, or teach a squaw how to work moccasins. I don't know what _your_ trade is, but I 'll be bound he knows something about it _you_ never heerd of."

Mr. Heron went on to prove how universally gifted his friend was by mentioning how, on his first arrival, he gave a course of lectures on a plan which assuredly might have presented obstacles to many. It was only when the room was filled, and the public itself consulted, that the theme of the lecture was determined; so that the speaker was actually called upon, without a moment for preparation, to expatiate upon any given subject. Nor was the test less trying that the hearers were plain practical folk, who usually propounded questions in which they possessed some knowledge themselves. How to open a new clearing, what treatment to apply to the bite of the whipsnake, by what contrivance to economize water in mills, how to tan leather without oak bark,--such and such-like were the theses placed before him, matters on which the public could very sufficiently pronounce themselves. Old Poll, it would seem, had sustained every test, and come through every ordeal of demand victorious. While the host thus continued to expatiate on this man's marvellous gifts, Layton fell a-thinking whether this might not be the very spot he sought for, and this the audience before whom he could experiment on as a public speaker. It was quite evident that the verdict could confer little either of distinction or disparagement: success or failure were, as regarded the future, not important If, however, he could succeed in interesting them at all,--if he could make the themes of which they had never so much as heard in any way amusing or engaging,--it would be a measure of what he might attain with more favorable hearers. He at once propounded his plan to Mr. Heron, not confessing, however, that he meditated a first attempt, but speaking as an old and practised lecturer.

"What can you give 'em, sir? They 're horny-handed and flat-footed folk down here, but they 'll not take an old hen for a Bucks county chicken, I tell _you!_"

"I am a little in your friend Poll's line," said Layton, good-humoredly.

"I could talk to them about history, and long ago; what kind of men ruled amongst Greeks and Romans; what sort of wars they waged; how they colonized, and what they did with the conquered. If my hearers had patience for it, I could give them some account of their great orators and poets."

Heron shook his head dissentingly, and said Poll told 'em all that, and nobody wanted it, till he came to them chaps they call the gladiators, and showed how they used to spar and hit out. "Was n't it grand to see him, with his great chest and strong old arms, describin' all their movements, and how much they trusted to activity, imitating all from the wild beast,--not like our boxers, who make fighting a reg'lar man's combat. You couldn't take up that, could you?"

"I fear not," said Layton, despondingly.

"Well, tell 'em something of the old country in a time near their own.

They 'd like to hear about their greatgrandfathers and grandmothers."

"Would they listen to me if I made Ireland the subject,--Ireland just before she was incorporated with England, when, with a Parliament of her own, she had a resident gentry, separate institutions, and strong traits of individual nationality?"

"Tell 'em about fellows that had strong heads and stout hands, that, though they mightn't always be right in their opinions, was willing and ready to fight for 'em. Give 'em a touch of the way they talked in their House of Parliament; and if you can bring in a story or two, and make 'em laugh,--it ain't a'ways easy to do,--but if you _can_ do it, you may travel from Cape Cod to the Gulf of Mexico and never change a dollar."

"Here goes, then! I 'll try it!" said Layton, at once determined to risk the effort. "When can it be?"

"It must be at once, for there 's a number of 'em a-goin' West next week. Say to-morrow night, seven o'clock. Entrance, twelve cents; first chairs, five-and-twenty. No smokin' allowed, except between the acts."

"Take all the arrangements on yourself, and give me what you think fair of our profits," said Layton.

"That's reasonable; no man can say it ain't. What's your name, stranger?"