"Famous! Well, I reckon! Why, sir, you ought to have been here a month ago when he come back from a speech-makin' trip. It would 'a' done your heart good to see how the people turned out to give him a welcome. They had a torch-light procession that night and fired a cannon, and had an all 'round jollification! I was sure proud for him. It showed up plainer that day how everybody felt about him. That was a grand speech he made at Jackson! Did you hear anything about it, up in your country?"
"No. But I hope I'll have an opportunity to hear him speak while I'm down here. You have heard him often, I suppose?"
"Not half as often as I'd like to," the old Captain answered. "I heard him make his first speech, and 'pon my word, it's a wonder—the way he gets under your skin and makes you feel what he's a-sayin'. It ain't so much his words you hear when you're listening to him—it's more the sound of his voice and the look of his face. He jest takes all a feller's idees away from him and makes him think jest like he does. But I reckon you won't get a chance to hear him if you're only here for a week or two." The old fellow gave a gesture of disappointment. "He's running for Congress now. I'm kinder sorry, too, cause I ain't much on politics—I can't look at things but one way myself, and that's straight at 'em, and politicians seem to me to spend all their time a-beatin' 'round the bush. But I reckon Sargent'll show 'em a new way. He knows how—you can bet your bottom dollar on that!"
"I should like for Natalia to hear you talk about him. I believe I'll go find her," the young man said, turning away with the decision. "He used to be her tutor when she lived down here."
"It ain't no use," the Captain raised a detaining hand. "It won't do her a bit of good to hear about him. He don't give a snap of his fingers about the lady folks. I heard some of 'em call him a woman-hater—of course that ain't so," he added, laughing easily to himself, "but jest because he don't spend his time a-flyin' 'round with 'em, they're bound to resent it."
"And he has never married," the other added.
"Married! Well, I reckon not! He lives all by himself in a mighty fine house that he's built up there on the hill, and if you want to be entertained in real style, you must take a meal with him, for he's got the finest cook in the town. But as for women—" Captain Mentdrop lowered his voice confidentially and drew closer to the stranger. "You know it kinder worries me, but I can't make it out. Some say he's jest timid, and absorbed in his work, and then we all know he's mighty touchy about his bad leg, but for the sakes of me, I don't see why he thinks limpin' makes him objectionable to the ladies. I heard one gal say she thought it made him lots more picture-like, and made her think of Lord Byron, and you know he was a lady-killer, right!"
"And he is wealthy, too, I understand."
"Well, I reckon! He made dead oodles of money out of a lawsuit that him and Judge Houston had together. See that ridge south of the town?" He waved his hand in the direction. "There was a whole lot of property there, that was left to a number of heirs, and it seems the whole crowd could never be got together to sign the deeds, so half of 'em signed for the other half and sold the property, and when the other half turned up you can see what the mix-up was. Well, sir, Sargent and old man Houston took the case for the heirs that hadn't signed, with the arrangement that they was to get half. And they did. That put the youngster way up in the pictures. He had money to burn, but I never seen him do any of them blamed tricks you hear tell about down here. He never lit a cigar with a ten dollar bill like I've seen some dern fools do. He's got too much sense. Do you know, I believe he's got more learnin' crammed in his head than any other man I ever seen."
"He was that way at Bowdoin College. The rest of his class did not have a chance."