“Yes, I am,” replied I.
“Well, I reckon I wouldn’t allow you to go through our town without seeing you any how. Of all the humans, you’re the one I most wish to see.”
I told him I was highly flattered.
“Well now,” said he, giving a jump, and coming down right upon the bed in his great coat, “I’ll just tell you; I said to the chap at the bar, ‘Ain’t the Captain in your house?’ ‘Yes,’ says he. ‘Then where is he?’ says I. ‘Oh,’ says he, ‘he’s gone into his own room, and locked himself up; he’s a d—d aristocrat, and won’t drink at the bar with other gentlemen.’ So, thought I, I’ve read M—’s works, and I’ll be swamped if he is an aristocrat, and by the ’tarnal I’ll go up and see; so here I am, and you’re no aristocrat.”
“I should think not,” replied I, moving my feet away, which he was half sitting on.
“Oh, don’t move; never mind me, Captain, I’m quite comfortable. And how do you find yourself by this time?”
“Very tired indeed,” replied I.
“I suspicion as much. Now, d’ye see, I left four or five good fellows down below who wish to see you; I said I’d go up first, and come down to them. The fact is, Captain, we don’t like you should pass through our town without showing you a little American hospitality.”
So saying, he slid off the bed, and went out of the room. In a minute he returned, bringing with him four or five others, all of whom he introduced by name, and reseated himself on my bed, while the others took chairs.
“Now, gentlemen,” said he, “as I was telling the Captain, we wish to show him a little American hospitality; what shall it be, gentlemen; what d’ye say—a bottle of Madeira?”