33. The 'Duke Of Orleans'
At a little before four o'clock the " Duke of Orleans " came around the head of the island. She was one of the typical " lower country " boats of that day. The mail boats were built light of draught, and, for that time, swift of speed ; the stern-wheelers and the insignificant, old-fashioned " chicken-thieves" were still lio-hter. But the lower country boat was heavy in build, deep in draught, slow in the revolution of her wheels; with a sturdy, bulldog look when seen in front, and an elephantine solemnity of motion when viewed at broadside, the wheels seeming to pause at each semi-revolution. The lower country boat of that day defied all time-tables. She started when ever she was ready, and she stopped as often and as long as she found occasion. The arrival of a New Orleans boat at the wharf of one of the river towns at this time of the year was a great event. It was only in an exceptional season that there was water enough in the channel for such craft above the falls of the Ohio in October.
Now that the boat had actually come around the island, the fact that Mark and Roxy were not anywhere yet to bo seen was a great disappointment to people on the wharf. They were, perhaps, to be cheated out of their spectacle : they would not see Roxy's tears, nor any of the other entertaining things they had a right to expect. Mr. Adams moved testily to and fro, fearing: he knew not what. Twonnet strained her eyes up Ferry street in vain ; Granny Tartrum's boy, Zeb, was exceedingly active in the effoit to find out what it all stood for ; and the wharf-master's little brown dog dashed about in a way that showed how keenly he also felt that a crisis had come, and that something ought to be done. The " Duke" approached with majestic tardiness, her captain ringing the great bell on the hurricane deck in a slow and imperious fashion. He rang five great taps, which were echoed faintly in the distant hills. If he had stopped at three, it would have signified that he intended only to send out the yawl for his passengers ; but the five solemn tolls were the sign of a landing. Then the boat " rounded to," brought her bow round so as to point her head upward against the stream. The line was thrown out to the wharf -boat and caught by the wharf-master, who, with Haz Kirtley's help, quickly took a turn with it round the check-post. This important operation was vigilantly superintended by the little brown dog, who, with tail in the air, ran around the check-post till the line was made fast, and then dashed away to attend to the running out of the " walk-plank."
Here was the boat and here the baggage ; but the passengers were not. But now came galloping down the street an old negro, appendage from time immemorial of the Bonamy family, who rode his plow-horse to a most unwonted speed as he sat with legs projecting forward and outward, holding to the reins of his bridle with one hand, while he gripped the mane with the other to keep himself from being thrown by the awkward plunges of the stiff old animal. This spectacle set all the small boys laughing at Uncle Bob, and the attention of the crowd was divided between the negro and the steamboat. Reining his horse in the very edge of the river, the old man called out :
" I say, dah ! Is de doctah on boa'd dah ? "
The doctor was soon brought to the front of the crowd on the wharf-boat.
"I say, dah? Doctah! de Gunnel's done had a stroke or sumpin. Tumbled right down in middle ob de flo'. Git on heah and go quick. Be mighty spry now, I say, else ye won't see no cunnel when ye git dah. He done be dead afo' ye git dah."
The doctor took the negro's place, and the horse was soon charging back again through the town, while the steamboat captain with reluctance pulled in his line and left without his passengers. The crowd felt that a serious illness on the part of Colonel Bonamy repaid them but poorly for their disappointment ; but they fell at once to making the most of it, by disputing whether it was Colonel Bonamy who had been struck by Mark, or Mark who had been struck by apoplexy. Granny Tartr urn's little boy ran home breathless to tell about it ; and, rheumatics or no rheumatics, the old lady felt herself called upon to hobble into the street and assail the passer-by with all sorts of cpiestions about the case. Who struck whom ? What was it ? Was he likely to live ?
As the facts came to be known with clearness, some folks thought it a sin and a shame for a son to disobey his father, and be the death of him in that way. Pretty Christian he was, wasn't he, to be sure, now for certain.
Some of the more lugubrious were sure that it was a judgment. Wasn't Uzzah slain for putting his hand upon the ark of God ? Didn't Ananias and Sapphira die for lying ? Colonel Bonamy'd learn not to oppose God, and it was good for him, and served him right besides, and was no more than he deserved, over and above.
Nancy went home, carrying the bumble-bee with her, bat vowing she'd pay 'em up. She somehow looked upon Colonel Bonamy's stroke as one of the means taken to defeat her by the family. But she'd pay 'em up, yet. Give her half a chance, and she'd git Mark away from that Adams girl. Roxy Adams wasn't no great shakes, that all the town should turn out to see her off, now. It might better have been herself than Roxy. She wouldn't have minded going to Texas with Mark.
And "Wliittaker, who had observed Nancy's curious behavior on the wharf-boat, went home, putting this and that together, troubling himself with forebodings about Roxy's future, and with griefs about his own disappointment, and with questionings whether he had done quite right or rut. He, at least, had a bumble-bee in his head, for he walk id the floor of the upper porch half the night.