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Updated: June 12, 2025
Washburn had gone ashore in one of the boats, and I had the room to myself. Before he seated himself he handed me a card, on which was engraved "Kirby Cornwood." There was nothing more to indicate his business. "Take a seat, Mr. Cornwood," I said, when I had read his name.
The Floridian certainly did not seem to be very anxious to make an engagement with me; and this fact improved his chances with me. I went to the custom-house, and transacted my business there. As I came out with the mate, I met Mr. Cornwood at the door. I introduced Washburn to him; and the Floridian was as polite to him as to me.
I had plenty of fishing-tackle of all sorts which I kept on board; and I knew that all the gentlemen in the cabin, unless it was Mr. Tiffany, were supplied with all the implements for fishing and shooting. Cornwood had procured a supply of bait while we were at dinner. The fasts were cast off, and we backed out into the river.
"In accordance with the plan you arranged with Captain Boomsby before you came on board of the Sylvania, I have been shot," I replied. "The ball, instead of going through my head, only grazed my neck. Your man is a very bad shot." "My man! Who is my man?" demanded Cornwood. But I saw that he was pale under the charge. "Griffin Leeds, of course," I answered.
But in spite of this fact and I had no doubt it was a fact Cornwood was an exceedingly useful person on board of the Sylvania. I could not believe that he had been acting as a guide for parties, though it was plain that he was entirely familiar with the State of Florida. The pilot took his place at the wheel, and Washburn and I went to supper.
"Allow no one to come on board," I said to the mate, who had told me of the coming of the boat, and who were in it. I went aft. The gangway steps had been taken in-board, and stowed away after Cornwood came. Captain Boomsby was rather more than half full of whiskey. I found there was a third person in the boat, who proved to be an officer.
"I don't know that you are her husband; and if I did, I would not meddle with her," replied the officer, who seemed to enjoy the situation. "Our business is finished on board of this craft:" and he returned to the boat. "This seems to be rather a hard case," interposed Cornwood. "I don't think we have any right to separate man and wife."
"Mulberry Grove on the right," said Cornwood, who did not neglect his duties as guide, while he attended to those of pilot. We could see little besides a long pier, though there was a glimpse to be obtained of a house through the vista of trees. Twenty minutes later we ran up to the pier at Mandarin, where the pilot made as handsome a landing as I ever saw in my life.
Compared with Maine or Michigan, where I had spent most of my life, it was fairy-land in March. "What are you doing here, Cornwood?" asked Colonel Ives, as he entered the pilot-house, soon after we were under way. The party was somewhat larger than it had been the day before, and both the Mayor and Colonel Ives, with their families, were on board.
If my old tyrant had manifested some surprise at first at seeing me, he seemed to have got over it very quickly. I was very glad indeed to be satisfied that Cornwood had no knowledge of my imprisonment in the attic, as I supposed he had when I entered the saloon. I had employed him, and was then paying him five dollars a day for doing nothing.
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