I dare say I should have felt a pain in my liver,
too, if I had known where it was.
I was soon at the Battery after that, and there was the right
Man,—hugging himself and limping to and fro, as if he had never all
night left off hugging and limping,—waiting for me. He was awfully
cold, to be sure. I half expected to see him drop down before my
face and die of deadly cold. His eyes looked so awfully hungry too,
that when I handed him the file and he laid it down on the grass,
it occurred to me he would have tried to eat it, if he had not seen
my bundle. He did not turn me upside down this time to get at what
I had, but left me right side upwards while I opened the bundle and
emptied my pockets.
"What's in the bottle, boy?" said he.
"Brandy," said I.
He was already handing mincemeat down his throat in the most
curious manner,—more like a man who was putting it away somewhere
in a violent hurry, than a man who was eating it,—but he left off
to take some of the liquor. He shivered all the while so violently,
that it was quite as much as he could do to keep the neck of the
bottle between his teeth, without biting it off.
"I think you have got the ague," said I.
"I'm much of your opinion, boy," said he.
"It's bad about here," I told him. "You've been lying out on the
meshes, and they're dreadful aguish. Rheumatic too."
"I'll eat my breakfast afore they're the death of me," said he.
"I'd do that, if I was going to be strung up to that there gallows
as there is over there, directly afterwards. I'll beat the shivers
so far, I'll bet you."
He was gobbling mincemeat, meatbone, bread, cheese, and pork
pie, all at once: staring distrustfully while he did so at the mist
all round us, and often stopping—even stopping his jaws—to listen.
Some real or fancied sound, some clink upon the river or breathing
of beast upon the marsh, now gave him a start, and he said,
suddenly,—
"You're not a deceiving imp? You brought no one with you?"
"No, sir! No!"
"Nor giv' no one the office to follow you?"
"No!"
"Well," said he, "I believe you. You'd be but a fierce young
hound indeed, if at your time of life you could help to hunt a
wretched warmint hunted as near death and dunghill as this poor
wretched warmint is!"
Something clicked in his throat as if he had works in him like a
clock, and was going to strike. And he smeared his ragged rough
sleeve over his eyes.
Pitying his desolation, and watching him as he gradually settled
down upon the pie, I made bold to say, "I am glad you enjoy
it."
"Did you speak?"
"I said I was glad you enjoyed it."
"Thankee, my boy. I do."
I had often watched a large dog of ours eating his food; and I
now noticed a decided similarity between the dog's way of eating,
and the man's. The man took strong sharp sudden bites, just like
the dog. He swallowed, or rather snapped up, every mouthful, too
soon and too fast; and he looked sideways here and there while he
ate, as if he thought there was danger in every direction of
somebody's coming to take the pie away. He was altogether too
unsettled in his mind over it, to appreciate it comfortably I
thought, or to have anybody to dine with him, without making a chop
with his jaws at the visitor. In all of which particulars he was
very like the dog.
"I am afraid you won't leave any of it for him," said I,
timidly; after a silence during which I had hesitated as to the
politeness of making the remark. "There's no more to be got where
that came from." It was the certainty of this fact that impelled me
to offer the hint.
"Leave any for him? Who's him?" said my friend, stopping in his
crunching of pie-crust.
"The young man. That you spoke of. That was hid with you."
"Oh ah!" he returned, with something like a gruff laugh. "Him?
Yes, yes! He don't want no wittles."
"I thought he looked as if he did," said I.
The man stopped eating, and regarded me with the keenest
scrutiny and the greatest surprise.
"Looked? When?"
"Just now."
"Where?"
"Yonder," said I, pointing; "over there, where I found him
nodding asleep, and thought it was you."
He held me by the collar and stared at me so, that I began to
think his first idea about cutting my throat had revived.
"Dressed like you, you know, only with a hat," I explained,
trembling; "and—and"—I was very anxious to put this delicately—"and
with—the same reason for wanting to borrow a file. Didn't you hear
the cannon last night?"
"Then there was firing!" he said to himself.
"I wonder you shouldn't have been sure of that," I returned,
"for we heard it up at home, and that's farther away, and we were
shut in besides."
"Why, see now!" said he. "When a man's alone on these flats,
with a light head and a light stomach, perishing of cold and want,
he hears nothin' all night, but guns firing, and voices calling.
Hears? He sees the soldiers, with their red coats lighted up by the
torches carried afore, closing in round him. Hears his number
called, hears himself challenged, hears the rattle of the muskets,
hears the orders 'Make ready! Present! Cover him steady, men!' and
is laid hands on—and there's nothin'! Why, if I see one pursuing
party last night—coming up in order, Damn 'em, with their tramp,
tramp—I see a hundred. And as to firing! Why, I see the mist shake
with the cannon, arter it was broad day,—But this man"; he had said
all the rest, as if he had forgotten my being there; "did you
notice anything in him?"
"He had a badly bruised face," said I, recalling what I hardly
knew I knew.
"Not here?" exclaimed the man, striking his left cheek
mercilessly, with the flat of his hand.
"Yes, there!"
"Where is he?" He crammed what little food was left, into the
breast of his gray jacket. "Show me the way he went. I'll pull him
down, like a bloodhound. Curse this iron on my sore leg! Give us
hold of the file, boy."
I indicated in what direction the mist had shrouded the other
man, and he looked up at it for an instant. But he was down on the
rank wet grass, filing at his iron like a madman, and not minding
me or minding his own leg, which had an old chafe upon it and was
bloody, but which he handled as roughly as if it had no more
feeling in it than the file. I was very much afraid of him again,
now that he had worked himself into this fierce hurry, and I was
likewise very much afraid of keeping away from home any longer. I
told him I must go, but he took no notice, so I thought the best
thing I could do was to slip off.
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