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"To be sure I does I like the capt'in och, he's a jontleman and I likes the missus; she's a laddy and I likes Miss Beuly, who's a swate young woman and then there's Miss Maud, who's the delight of my eyes. Fegs, but isn't she a crathure to relish!" Mike spoke like a good honest fellow, as he was at the bottom, with all his heart and soul. The Indian did not seem pleased, but he made no answer.
"Why you drag 'im like ox, Irish Mike?" cried the younger negro "why you no row 'im like other folk?" "Ah you're as bad as the rest of 'em," growled Mike. "They tould me Ameriky was a mighty warm country, and war-r-m I find it, sure enough, though the wather isn't as warm as good whiskey. Come, ye black divils, and see if ye can coax this contrairy crathure to do as a person wants."
Why Irishman don't love yankee?" "Och! love the crathure, is it? You'd betther ask me to love a to'd" for so Michael would pronounce the word 'toad. "What is there to love about him, but skin and bone! I'd as soon love a skiliten. Yes an immortal skiliten." Nick made another gesture, and then he endeavoured to reflect, like one who had a grave business in contemplation.
Strange to say, this conversation had not the terrible effect upon me which might be supposed. It was evident that my old friends, father and mother of Mrs. C , occupied the loft in company with me, and the mention of that most suggestive word, "crathure," was sufficient to neutralize all suspicions connected with the lonely surroundings of the place.
Unfortunately for the immediate enlightenment of Mike's mind, Joel overheard the dialogue, and comprehending its meaning, with his native readiness, he joined his companion in a mood but little disposed to clear up the error. "Did ye see that crathure?" asked Mike, with emphasis. "Sartain he is often seen here, at the Hut. He may be said to live here, half his time."
My mother says how the poor little crathure was his own child; for he was by all accounts an ould villain every way, an' the hangin'est judge that ever was known in Ireland's ground." "From what you said about the danger of sleeping in that bedroom," said I, "I suppose there were stories about the ghost having appeared there to others."
"Claws!" he repeated, with an air of surprise "And why do you think an Injin has claws, Mike?" "An Injin! D'ye call that miscoloured crathure an Injin Joel. Isn't it one of yer yankee divils?" "Out upon you, for an Irish ninny. Do you think the captain would board a devil! The fellow's a Tuscarora, and is as well known here as the owner of the Hut himself. It's Saucy Nick."
I tell you, you'll like him yourself when you come to know him." "If I do, burn me! Why, he says himself, that he's Ould Nick, and I'm sure I never fancied the crathure but it was in just some such for-r-m. Och! he's ill-looking enough, for twenty Ould Nicks."
"I'll warrant ye, now, the captain wouldn't tolerate such a crathure, but he's sent him off to the woods, as ye may see, like a divil, as he is! To think of such a thing's spakeing to the missus! Will I fight him? That will I, rather than he'll say an uncivil word to the likes of her!
It was, in fact, a drop of that much-desired "crathure" that the old couple were so anxious to obtain. About three o'clock on the afternoon of Sunday the 17th July I left the house of Mr. Connelly, and journeyed back to Abercrombie in the stage waggon from St. Cloud. I had as a fellow-passenger the captain of the "International" steamboat, whose acquaintance was quickly made.
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