“Me a ham? Me, a linear decen’ant ob de great Lawd Cornwahlis, what lan’ed at Yohktown an’ chased de Yanks all ober de plains ob Ole Virgintay? Dat’s de stock I come from, Mistah Warmer, an’ so I want yo’ to understan’.”
The cook’s reference to his ancestors astounded Warriner, though none of the rest of us saw anything queer about it.
“Good heavens! What curse is there like ignorance?” said he, looking up at the ceiling.
It was lucky for me that Warriner spoke up, for I was just going to show off about Lord Cornwallis, and would likely have made a fool of myself. My history is a bit uncertain; so I stood by and kept mum.
Prince had been considering while the rest of us talked, and now said: “Cap’n Pratt, I would ax you, sah, for de Bible, an’ I promises to bring dis sinful critter to time, eben of he does b’long to de quality ob Virginny, which he don’t, unless de debil hab turned saint.”
All of us were surprised at this, but Pratt went to fetch the book. Prince could read large print tolerably well, and write a little, which facts he was very proud of. His confident air, and the new tack he had taken, made the cook a bit uneasy for the first time. He had no idee what was coming next.
Pratt beckoned to me from the door of his room, and whispered in my ear: “The Bible’s mislaid. Hasn’t been used for so long it can’t be found. Here’s a book the same size, though.”
“Maybe that’ll do,” said I. “We’ll try, anyway.”
Prince took the volume of Lieut. Maury’s sailing directions and said impressively: “Now, Mistah Jones, appearances is agin you, but dey is bery deceptible, an’ not alwuz to be trusted. You may be innocenter den a kitten, which fur y’ur own sake, I hopes you is. I has here, gemmen, de Good Book, out ob which I will read what happens to cooks which steals.”
Cornwallis looked uneasily from one to the other, and at the sacred volume. He was ignorant and superstitious, and Prince as reader and oracle was much more to be feared than Prince the bo’s’un, with all his threats and accusations.