I did not get to hear a word of it, but I was not caring a scrap about it just then. I saw Mr. Davis, though, through all the proceedings—we were stationed at some distance down the hill and looked up over a sea of umbrellas.
After the ceremony was over, we three were permitted by our Captain to remain in town, and the trio at once found shelter in the same comfortable restaurant in which I had first tasted the apple-jack. Here we were permitted to dry out our wet clothing and enjoy a good old-fashioned Virginia dinner, which mine host had prepared in honor of the day. The great china punch-bowl was still on the high bar, filled almost to the brim with the sweet-smelling, seductive apple-jack, in which floated some roast apples, which were garnished with cloves, so they looked like great pine balls, but I felt that they were as dangerous as porcupines.
I was urged to drink several times indeed, but one taste was enough for me. The landlord was rather hurt, or pretended to be, that I should refuse to accept from his own hands the courteously proffered mug of the delicious compound, to be drunk in honor of the day, etc.
The Colonel, who had been such a good friend since we had met while I was sick in the hotel, had formed apparently the utmost confidence in me. In fact, our relations became of the most intimate character, as far as was possible between any two persons who were so unlike in disposition and purposes. The Colonel was my senior by several years; perhaps, because of this, or maybe from the fact that he had nursed me out from my illness and led me into the company, I felt that he had an oversight or care over me, and acted toward me in the kindly way of an elder brother.
In the love affairs, in which we all became so absurdly mixed up with our Maryland slave, Capitola, the Colonel had taken it upon himself to act in my behalf and for my good. I had taken him into my confidence about Capitola, and told him all about my trouble in that direction; how our officers had taken undue advantage of their uniform to cut me out, etc. He agreed with me that it was an "outrage," and admitted, with a smile, that I now recall as significant, that it was due entirely to the uniforms.
I had accepted his offer to make things all right for me. I had consented most reluctantly to the Colonel's disinterested and brotherly advice—not to have anything more to do with Capitola.
On inauguration day, being in town and feeling in pretty good trim, I yielded to the impulse, and concluded to meet Capitola just once more, to say "Good-by," provided I could do so without letting the Colonel find it out.
While trying to fix up a scheme to get away from him and Lanyard that afternoon, so that I might make the proposed call undetained, I was delighted to hear the Colonel ask Lanyard and I, to excuse him for a couple of hours, as he had an important engagement with the Lieutenant that afternoon—business must be attended to.
I was not long in getting away from Lanyard, and quickly skipped around to the well known residence of our Capitola. She surprised me by meeting me cordially and, all in one breath, demanded to know why I had stayed away so long.
"Why," she said, in her smiling, innocent way, "all the rest of your boys have been to call on us."