“Well, I wish him joy of it,” said Ranty. “But how any man can reconcile it to his conscience to be a lawyer, while honest, straight-forward piracy is flourishing in the South Seas, and old-fashioned, upright brigands infest the Pyrenees, is beyond my comprehension! However, every one to their taste; and, luckily, this is a free country. Good-by, now, Miss Germaine. Fate and the approach of night compels me to be off; but you may look out for me an hour or so before day-dawn to-morrow.”
And Ranty got up, shook hands with Erminie, mounted his horse, and rode off.
“Now Ranty Lawless,” said that gentleman to himself, when fairly on the road, “it’s my private belief and impression that you are falling in love, young man! What a sweet, artless, lovely face the girl has got, any way! And those eyes—those wistful, tender, violet eyes—how they do go through a fellow’s vest-pattern, though! Ranty, my son, take care! Have you escaped the witchery of dark-eyed Spanish donas; the melting glances of Italia’s raven-haired daughters; the enchantment of the little knobby-footed, suffron-skinned ladies of the Celestial Empire; the bedevilment of the free-and-easy mesdames of free-and-easy France, to be hooked the moment you land, by the blue eyes, golden hair, pearly skin, and pink cheeks of this little cottage-girl, Erminie? What will the governor say, I want to know? Well, it’s time enough to think of that yet. No use worrying till the time comes. ‘Care killed a cat,’ they say; so, lest I should share in that unfortunate quadruped’s fate, I shall take things easy. There’s the White Squall. I think I shall go over and see my worthy uncle, the admiral.”
So saying, Ranty rode rapidly in the direction of the flaring white mansion, and entered, without ceremony. The admiral, as usual, was alone in the parlor, and gave his nephew a boisterous welcome, shaking his hand as if he had hold of the handle of a pump, until Ranty winced and jerked it away. Then, having replied to the avalanche of questions with which the ancient mariner overwhelmed him, Ranty rose, and rode homeward, to surprise the household there.
Surprise the household he did—at least all of them to be found—which were only the servants. The judge was gone, and so was Pet.
“Why, Aunt Deb, Pet started for home nearly an hour ago,” said Ranty, somewhat alarmed. “What can have become of her?”
“Lors! Mars’r Ranty, how de debbil I know?” said Aunt Deb, who was given to profanity now and then. “Dar ain’t nebber no tellin’ whar dat ar little limb pokes herself. She might be at dem old Bar’ns, or she might be at Dismal Holler, or she might be gone to old Harry—”
“Old Harry!” interrupted Ranty, angrily. “What do you mean?”
“Why, ole Mars’r Harry Hateful; dar ain’t no tellin’ whar she is!”
“Well, that’s true enough. I wish she were here, however. Perhaps she won’t be back to-night,” said Ranty, walking up and down the room, and whistling a sea air.