"I'll be answerable for that," was the response of the young planter.
Since I had been his guest, I had not seen Henry Woodley in such a temper. He seemed to think that his character as a host was at stake, and felt the indignity of Black's behavior.
As his blood was up, I could see it would be of no use, my proposing to stay behind. Nor, indeed, had I any intention of doing so. Uninviting as was the prospect of making a three hundred miles' voyage in such surly companionship, I was now all the more determined upon it. I had originally committed myself to it as a subterfuge for prolonging my stay at the plantation, and although here was now an additional excuse, I could not creditably make use of it. To trudge back with my traps, and tell Miss Woodley the reason why, would be a humiliation I was not prepared to undergo. Sooner than do that, I would have consented to sleep sub Jove on the roof of the flat, with only my cloak to couch and cover me.
I was quite as indignant at the interruption as my friend—perhaps more determined that it should not stay me; and had the captain of the flat-boat held out any longer, he would have heard a little bit of my mind.
As it was, he reluctantly yielded to the remonstrances already made to him, and consented to receive me as a passenger.
It was now discovered that there would be sleeping-room enough, without disturbing the cotton-bales; and my traps were taken aboard and carried into the "cabin."
An apology for what had happened on the part of the young planter—a promise on my part to revisit him in the spring—a hearty hand-shake between us, and I was afloat upon the "Father of Waters," passenger in a "flat."
CHAPTER XV.
UNSOCIABLE COMPANIONS.