The terrific thumping brought three or four servants scampering to the door; and close at their heels, holding a bedroom candlestick high over her head, came the “grand seigneur” of the household, himself looking slightly bewildered at this attempt to board him by force.
“Law! if it ain’t Miss Pet!” ejaculated the man who admitted her. “Might ’a’ known ’twar she; nobody else would come thumpin’ like dat. Fit to t’ar de ruff off!”
“Don’t be afraid, Uncle Harry; it’s only me!” said Pet, as she came in dispersing the darkeys by a grand flourish of her whip.
“Port your helm!” exclaimed the admiral, still slightly bewildered, as he held the candlestick aloft and stared at Pet with all his eyes.
“Well, how can I port my helm out here, I want to know?” cried Pet, testily. “Look at these niggers gaping, as if I had two heads on me, and you, standing staring at me, with that old candlestick over your head, that’s got no candle in it. Here! go along with you! Be off with you!”
And again Pet flourished her whip among them, in a way that had the effect of speedily sending them flying to the kitchen regions, while she gave her passive uncle a push that sent him into the parlor from which he had just emerged.
This done, Pet followed him, shut the door with a bang, flung her whip across the room, and dropped, with a long, deep breath of relief and security, into an arm-chair.
The admiral sunk into another, still holding the candlestick in his hand, and never removing his eyes from her face. Thus they sat for some minutes, she gazing on the floor, he gazing in helpless bewilderment on her; and while they are thus engaged, we will take the liberty of glancing round the parlor of the White Squall.
Like the sitting-room of Miss Priscilla Toosypegs, there was a “plentiful scarcity” of the ornamental, and, unlike hers, a great preponderance of the useless. The floor was covered by a thick, dark carpet; the windows were shaded by blue-paper blinds; the walls were as white as the largest possible amount of whitewash could make them, and adorned by pencil draughts of ships, brigs, schooners, corvettes, and every other kind of vessel that ever delighted the heart of a sailor and puzzled an uninitiated female to describe.
Over the mantel-piece was a huge painting of a straw colored and pink man-of-war, on a blue-green sea, blazing away at a terrified-looking little cutter, on whose deck could be seen a gentleman and a lady, both considerably taller than the mainmast. This work of art was the pride and glory of the admiral, and was displayed to every stranger who visited the White Squall as something that might make even the great old masters look to their laurels.