Every window in the house was thrown wide open to begin with; every chair walked out of its place; the new broom which Miriam had gathered with a song, was used for the first time freely on every floor, in every nook and corner; then the new broom was carried away, and locked in a closet like a conjuror who had wrought his spell and need not appear again till some other magic was to be performed. All the chairs were set soberly and steadily against the wall, the windows were closed, and a sacred shade thrown over the house against the approaching festival. The key was turned in the lock of the old parlor, which was to have no company (save the tall old clock talking all alone in the corner to himself) till to-morrow.
And so the day sailed on, like a dainty boat with silent oar on a calm-flowing stream, to evening, when, as though it had been a new-born meteor or great will-o'-the-wisp, there appeared on the edge of the twilight, along the distant horizon, a silvery glitter, which, drawing nearer and nearer, presently disclosed a servant in a shining band mounted on a great coach, with horses in burnished harness; with champing speed, which it seemed must have borne it far beyond, it came to in a moment at the very gate of the homestead, as at the striking of a clock. A gentleman in bearded lip, in high polish of hat, chains and boots, emerged, (the door being opened by a stripling also in a banded hat, who leaped from behind,) followed by a lady in a gown of glossy silk and a yellow feather, waving in the partial darkness from her hat. Such wonder and astonishment as seized on the Peabodys, who looked on it from the balcony, no man can describe.
Angels have descended before now and walked upon the earth—giants have been at some time or other seen strutting about—ghosts appear occasionally in the neighborhood of old farm-houses, but neither ghost, giant, nor angel had such a welcome of uplifted hands and staring eyes as encountered Mrs. Carrack and her son Tiffany, when they, in the body entered in at the gate of the old Peabody mansion at that time. There was but one person in the company, old Sylvester perhaps excepted, who seemed to have his wits about him, and that was the red rooster who, sitting on the wall near the gate when Mr. Tiffany Carrack pushed it open, cocked his eye smartly on him, and darted sharply at his white hand, with its glittering jewel as he laid it on the gate.
"Nancy," said old Sylvester, addressing her with extended grasp, and a pleasant smile of welcome on his brow, "we had given up looking for you."
Was there ever such a rash old man! "Nancy!" as though she had been a common person he was speaking to.
Mrs. Carrack, who was a short woman, stiff and stern, tossing her feather, gave the tips of her fingers to the patriarch, and ordering in a huge leathern trunk all over brass nails and capital C's, condescended to enter into the house. In spite of all resolutions and persuasions to the contrary the door of the best parlor unlocked before her grandeur of demeanor, and she took possession as though she had not the slightest connection with the other members of the Peabody family, nor the remotest interest in the common sitting-room without. Mr. Tiffany Carrack, with patent shanks to his boots which sprang him into the air as he walked, corsets to brace his body in, new-fangled straps to keep him down, a patent collar of a peculiar invention, to hold his head aloft, moving as it were under the convoy of a company of invisible influences, deriving all his motions from the shoe-maker, stay-maker, tailor and linen-draper, who originally wound him up and set him a-going, for whose sole convenience he lives, having withal, by way of paint to his ashy countenance, a couple of little conch-shell tufts, tawny-yellow, (that being the latest to be had at the perfumer's,) on his upper lip; the representative and embodiment of all the latest new improvements, patents, and contrivances in apparel, Mr. Tiffany Carrack followed his excellent mother.
"Why, Tiffany," said old Sylvester, who notwithstanding the immensity of these people, calmly pursued his old course, "we all thought you were in California."
The family were gathered around and awaited Mr. Tiffany Carrack's answer with a good deal of curiosity.
"That was all a delusion, sir," he replied, plucking at his little crop of yellow tufts,—"a horrible delusion. I had some thought of that kind in my mind, in fact I had got as far south as New Orleans, when I met a seedy fellow who told me that the natives had rebelled and wouldn't work any more; so I found if I would get any of the precious, I must dig with a shovel with my own dear digits; of course I turned back in disgust, and here I am as good as new—Jehoshaphat!"
It was well that Mr. Tiffany had a fashion of emphasizing his discourse with a reference to this ancient person, whom he supposed to have been an exquisite of the first water, which happily furnished a cover under which the entire Peabody family exploded with laughter at Mr. Carrack's announcement of the sudden termination of his grand expedition to the Gold Region. Without an exception they all went off in an enormous burst, the Captain, little Sam, and Mopsey leading.