"Here? heaven forefend! No!" was the response. Then he added: "Why, by Jupiter, Townsend, you must be a wizard or in some kind of collusion with Meriam! See!—I'll be hanged if there is not the top of a mountain! It is clearing away! Hurrah for Mount Washington!"
He darted in at once from the piazza to the office, and Townsend, who had not yet even registered his name as an arrival, followed him. Most of the other passengers from the Profile were by that time registered and scattered away to their rooms for sartorial renovation.
A separate book was kept at the office, as usual at such places, over the head of each page of which was printed: "Horses for Mount Washington," and in which, every day, those who wished to secure horses and guides for the succeeding or the first favorable day, registered their names, with the number of animals required and how many of them were to be ridden by ladies. A good many queer autographs might be observed in that book and some of its predecessors, for there was almost always some mischievous clerk behind the counter, amusing himself by telling immense stories to some of the other initiated, just as the un-initiated were coming up to register their names,—about the perils of the ride and how near he or some other person had come to falling over precipices of indefinite thousands of feet. This description of jocular practice very often shook the nerves of young travellers at the moment of booking, even when the frightened person was too far committed or too shame-faced to abandon his project; and there is no doubt that the original collection of chirography thus secured would prove only less interesting, on exhibition, than the original draft of the Declaration of Independence, or——the Emancipation Proclamation!
Several names had already been booked at hap-hazard on the day in question; and others of the storm-stayed, aware of the prospect of a "clearing-up," were by that time flocking around the book to secure their places. To the collection already made were very soon added the signatures of Townsend and Rowan, who intended, as neither would have a lady in charge, to make a great part if not all the trip together, while the two friends of Rowan, who were also to be of the ascending party, would "pair off" in the same manner.
This done, and supper-time approaching, Rowan, who had been lounging about in a sort of wet-weather box-coat undress which would have driven an ultra-fashionable to desperation, ran off to his room to make himself somewhat more presentable; while Horace Townsend, after patronizing the barber-shop for five minutes and providing himself with that inevitable cigar, stepped out once more upon the piazza to glance at the weather and satisfy himself how kind Mother Nature really intended to be on the morrow. He had but just emerged from the door when a close light carriage with two pairs of foaming horses—horses and carriage well covered with mud,—whirled around the corner of the Crawford and drew up at the door. The driver sprung from his seat and the carriage door was opened. Out of it stepped first Frank Vanderlyn, then Mrs. Vanderlyn and her daughter, who, as it afterwards appeared, had left the Profile after dinner and driven through post in that manner, under the impression that the next morning might after all be a fine one, and anxious (two of the three, at least) to join any party which would be likely to make the ascent.
"Whew!" said the lawyer to himself, between two puffs of his cigar, as he recognized the new-comers without their seeming to be aware of his presence. "Here is more of the Rowan romance and there may be more ten-pins necessary. I wonder whether that haughty woman and her son have any idea of the presence here of their friend from Chicago, and whether they have driven at that slapping pace through the mud, especially to be in his way! I wonder, too, whether Rowan's room is on the front, so that he has seen their arrival. I have half a notion to go up and apprize him of it; and then I have a whole notion to let him find it out for himself, and finish my cigar before supper comes in to spoil it."
Whatever might have been the amount of knowledge of the movements of Rowan possessed by the Vanderlyns, and whether in making a new entry on the books the old names were or were not always looked over,—certain it is that half an hour afterwards the lawyer found two more names booked for the ascent—those of "Mr. Francis Vanderlyn" and "Miss Clara Vanderlyn," the mother evidently not intending to expose herself to a fatigue which had lost its novelty, but to await their going and return at the Crawford.
It was very evident, to Townsend, eventually, that Rowan did not know any thing of the new arrival until he came down to supper. The Vanderlyns had taken their places at the table, very nearly opposite the lawyer, and returned with a nod of pleasant recognition the bow which he felt compelled to give them under the circumstances. Halstead Rowan, as he came in, took a seat on the same side of the table with the new-comers, and it was only as he gave the customary glance down after he had seated himself, that he seemed to recognize the sudden addition to the social circle. When he did recognize it, the lawyer (that man seems to be eternally watching the other, does he not?) caught one instant's blank surprise on his face, and he even put up his hand to rub his eyes, as if he fancied himself dreaming; but the surprise seemed to fade in a moment, and he pursued his supper with that fine appetite which is usually vouchsafed to such physical men. He left the table before the Vanderlyns had finished, and apparently without their having observed him. Townsend rose immediately and followed him, with a smile upon his face of which he was himself unconscious. He saw the Illinoisan go into the office and do precisely what he [the lawyer] would have laid a heavy stake that he would do—step to the counter and look over the list of "Horses for Mount Washington." Then a queer expression, nearer to malicious pleasure than any thing the other had before seen upon his face, flitted over it as he recognized the names. It might have been merely satisfaction—it might have been defiance blended with it in equal proportions; but at least it seemed to be capable of translation into words like these, which the very lips moved as if they would utter:
"So, Baltimore people, you are running yourselves into my way again, after I had gone off and left you alone, like a good fellow! You had better be poorer and less proud, or I richer; or you had better keep the distance which I put between us!"
A few moments after he approached Townsend with a laugh of deprecation and invited him to another game of ten-pins, which seemed to be quite as necessary to him when in a good humor as when in a rage. The invitation was accepted, and the important contest began once more. It would have been a very unequal one, for Rowan had fully recovered the use of his right hand, but that the alleys themselves had something to say in the matter. Worse apologies for alleys than those of the Crawford no man ever saw; and such a thing as a "ten-strike" had never been recorded on the black-boards, as made on those long lines of uneven and floor-laid planks. Both the combatants had quite enough to do in getting down a "frame" with three balls; and for some time not a word outside of the game escaped either.