CHAPTER LI
HOW AN IDLE PROPHECY CAME TO PASS
Captain Clapsaddle not being at his lodgings, I rode on to the Coffee
House to put up my horse. I was stopped by Mr. Claude.
"Why, Mr. Carvel," says he, "I thought you on the Eastern Shore. There
is a gentleman within will be mightily tickled to see you, or else his
protestations are lies, which they may very well be. His name? Now,
'Pon my faith, it was Jones--no more."
This thing of being called for at the Coffee House stirred up unpleasant
associations.
"What appearance does the man make?" I demanded.
"Merciful gad!" mine host exclaimed; "once seen, never forgotten, and
once heard, never forgotten. He quotes me Thomson, and he tells me of
his estate in Virginia."
The answer was not of a sort to allay my suspicions.
"Then he appears to be a landowner?" said I.
"'Ods! Blest if I know what he is," says Mr. Claude. "He may be
anything, an impostor or a high-mightiness. But he's something to strike
the eye and hold it, for all his Quaker clothes. He is swarth and
thickset, and some five feet eight inches--full six inches under your
own height. And he comes asking for you as if you owned the town between
you. 'Send a fellow to Marlboro' Street for Mr. Richard Carvel, my good
host!' says he, with a snap of his fingers. And when I tell him the news
of you, he is prodigiously affected, and cries--but here's my gentleman
now!"
I jerked my head around. Coming down the steps I beheld my old friend
and benefactor, Captain John Paul!
"Ahoy, ahoy!" cries he. "Now Heaven be praised, I have found you at
last."
Out of the saddle I leaped, and straight into his arms.
"Hold, hold, Richard!" he gasped. "My ribs, man! Leave me some breath
that I may tell you how glad I am to see you."
"Mr. Jones!" I said, holding him out, "now where the devil got you
that?"
"Why, I am become a gentleman since I saw you," he answered, smiling.
"My poor brother left me his estate in Virginia. And a gentleman must
have three names at the least."
I dropped his shoulders and shook with laughter.
"But Jones!" I cried. "'Ad's heart! could you go no higher? Has your
imagination left you, captain?"
"Republican simplicity, sir," says he, looking a trifle hurt. But I
laughed the more.
"Well, you have contrived to mix oil and vinegar," said I. "A landed
gentleman and republican simplicity. I'll warrant you wear silk-knit
under that gray homespun, and have a cameo in your
|