“Sah, dere is two boats at de lan’in’, an’ de men out’n bofe is comin’ to de house. Is I to denounce dem inter de drawin’-room or inter de kitchen?”
“I will go out and meet them on the porch,” said Hanson, rising.
He reached the hall door, which ’Rusalem attentively stepped before and opened for him, just as the first men came up—two sailors in the light blue uniform of the Roma.
They touched their caps and stood at “attention.”
“How are you, Coote? How are you, Reeves?” said Hanson, recognizing both; and then, without waiting for answer, he said: “Just follow this old man upstairs, and bring down the trunk he will show you, and take it down to the boat. Jerusalem, show these men the way to my room, and then follow them to the boat with this smaller luggage.”
The old negro beckoned the sailors, and conducted them to the upper floor, while Hanson turned to meet the stranger, who had now reached the house, and was stepping upon the piazza.
“You are Mr. Hanson?” inquired the stranger, who held a long envelope in his hand.
“That’s my name,” replied the young man.
“Mr. William Hanson?”
“Yes. What can I do for you?”