"What is this, my friend!" I asked, taking up the tumbler.
"Apple-Jack, sir," replied the boy.
"And am I to drink this before dinner?"
"If you please, sir," he answered, in a decidedly affirmative tone. So I drank it, and found it by no means unpleasant. I suppose in these regions, where vast tracks of swamp and forest-ground still remain unreclaimed, spreading around a sort of miasma, such kind of stimulating drinks, which would kill us in the old world, are not without their use; and certainly they do not seem to produce the same stimulating effects that they would in Europe. A minute or two after, Billy Byles himself entered without ceremony, and apologized for having been absent at his stables when I arrived.
"I have asked nobody to meet you," he said, "because I know your English prejudices upon these occasions; and I have given Bob Thornton a hint not to bring more than two or three friends, at the utmost, to the ground, to-morrow. I find Wheatley, of Norfolk, brought you over, and he is as good a man as any to have with us."
"I can assure you he came with no invitation of mine," I replied; "but hearing I was coming over to dine with you, he invited himself, and, of course, I could not refuse his company. As we came, I found that Miss Davenport's suspicions and his own knowledge of such affairs had made him aware that some rencontre was going to take place."
"All the better, all the better," answered Billy Byles; "and he is always so cool and self-possessed, that in case of difficulty he is ready to take the right ground in a moment. But now, let us go in to dinner." I followed him into the drawing-room, where we found Mr. Wheatley, and thence into an adjoining dining room. There, as nice and well-cooked a dinner as could be seen in any part of the world was set before us, seasoned with excellent wines, and my two companions drank pretty deep. But after all the meats had been removed, and fruits, &c., set upon the table, Mr. Byles interposed, saying,--
"Before we take anymore wine, we had better look at our tools and be certain that everything is right and in good working order. Then we will have a bowl of punch and a cigar, a game of piquette, if you like, and then to bed, for we are to be at the Hunter-wood to-morrow by five, and that is three miles off--Apollo, my good fellow"--to the black man, who was still in attendance--"fetch me the mahogany case which is on the table in my room, and bring an oil-cruet and a feather." The man soon returned with the pistol-case and the other things, and we set to work to examine the instruments of destruction. One screw wanted a little easing. A small portion of rust had gathered about the bore of one of the pistols, and had to be removed. The balls, of which there were a dozen ready cast, were all smooth and well pared, and fitted closely and accurately. The patches were nicely greased; the powder found not to leave a trace upon white paper; and everything, in short, brought into neat and exact order. My two companions set about the examination as amateurs; and I, who certainly knew, practically, more of the matter than any of them, and whose life might depend upon the result, thought I might just as well inform my mind upon the same subject as sit idly looking on. When all this was settled, a bowl of excellent punch was introduced, with some capital Havanah cigars. We talked of matters in no way connected with the business of the following morning; and the time slipped away without any piquette, till, on looking at my watch, I found it was ten o'clock. Then, telling Mr. Byles to have me called in ample time, I retired to bed. There are moments when thought, having done all its serviceable work, had better be dismissed altogether. It is a happy art--and every man should strive to acquire it--to be able so to dismiss thought, when its results are arrived at, and it can be no longer serviceable. Resolving to consign the future to the future, I lay down and slept profoundly, till the negro boy appointed to attend upon me entered the room early on the following morning.
[CHAPTER XIV.]
It was hardly daylight when my little black attendant brought a glass of mint-julep to my bed-side, and told me it was time to rise; and I had hardly refused the beverage, which I did not choose to take that morning, of all others, when Zed hobbled in with his white wool, and his face as polished as an ebony cabinet, all glowing with excitement. I understood quite well that he knew all about the business in hand, and he seemed to look upon himself as a sort of squire to a knight arming for the tilt-yard, eager and anxious for his master to do great deeds, and never for a moment doubting his success. The morning was a dull and cheerless one, though it was warm enough. The sky was covered; and a thin, white mist hung over the ground, not sufficient to hide objects, even at two or three hundred yards' distance, but sufficient to render them somewhat hazy and indistinct. In fact, it was a morning quite in harmony with the business I was about. However, I was soon dressed and in the drawing-room, where I found Billy Byles already up and waiting for me.