"I suppose he can return to his duties on board of the steamer," said the waiter's counsel.

"No, sir; I would not tolerate such a man on board any more than I would a rattlesnake," I replied.

I paid him his wages, and something more, on the spot; and when he left the court, his look and his manner indicated that he was more intent upon revenge than anything else. It was quarter of ten when the case was thus settled for the present, and we hastened to the wharf, and on board. I had engaged a large barge at the boat-wharf to put the passengers on board, and they were all taken off at one load.

We had the anchor up by the time they were alongside, and it was only a few minutes after ten when I rang the bell to go ahead.



CHAPTER XVIII.

THE EXCURSION TO MANDARIN.

The band struck up a lively air as the boat started; and nothing could be more exhilarating than the strains of the music, in the soft sunshine and mild, sweet air of that semi-tropical region. It was March; but the air was like summer. As soon as we had passed the first bend, the St. Johns appeared more like a far-reaching lake than a stream. The river is from one to six miles wide below Pilatka. The shores are never elevated, for there is not a bluff upon it that is more than thirty feet high, while generally the land is only a few feet above the level of the water. The highest elevation near the river hardly exceeds sixty feet.

The country is almost wholly covered with woods, as seen from the river. With the exception of a few villages, hardly a house can be seen from the passing steamer. One seems to be nearly alone with nature while voyaging on this broad tide. The trees are pines and magnolias, and now and then one sees a patch covered with jasmine, the vine of which climbs the trees and shrubs, and blossoms there. There are plenty of flowers, even in the early spring. 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.

"I am the pilot of this steamer for the present," replied Cornwood; and I thought he felt a little "cut" by the question.

"Isn't this a little derogatory to the profession?" laughed the Colonel.

"I don't practise at the bar much, as you are aware: my health does not admit of the confinement," the pilot explained.

"That is often the case with practitioners who don't have much to do in their profession."

"I have always had all I could do at the bar; but the open air and an active life agree best with me."

"It does with everybody who is short of cases."

"But he is a good pilot down the river, and I have no doubt he is just as good up the river, Colonel Ives," I interposed. "His knowledge of his native State surprises us all."

"I was only bantering him, captain," replied the passenger. "I think he is a very good lawyer too, though he did not have a good case this morning."

"When it comes to trial, I will show you that it is a better case than you think it is," replied Cornwood, with more spirit than he had before exhibited. "'Prisoners hang that hungry jurymen may dine,' and you and the Mayor were in a hurry to finish the case, so that you could join this excursion."

"I was not in the case," added the Colonel.

"But you prompted the magistrate to end it as soon as possible."

"What was the use of talking all day over a matter that was as plain as day? The rascal would have killed the engineer, if the deck-hands hadn't interfered," replied Colonel Ives. "The case might have been finished in ten minutes, as well as in three-quarters of an hour."

I was willing the lawyers should fight it out between themselves, and I left the pilot-house, which Owen and his ladies had not yet invaded. I saw Washburn on the top-gallant forecastle, looking at the scenery of the river, and I joined him in this retired place. I had not yet had an opportunity to ask him if he had found Cobbington, and I went to the forecastle for this purpose.

"I found him," replied the mate, in a disgusted tone. "But I might as well not have found him."

"Why so?" I inquired, rather amused by the manner of my friend.

"Since I came on board, I have found out something more than I knew before. Last evening, while you were ashore, Cornwood called a boat that was passing, and sent a letter ashore by the boatman," continued Washburn, as much dissatisfied as though he had been personally injured. "Of course that note went to Captain Boomsby."

"How do you know Cornwood sent a letter on shore last night?"

"Buck," called the mate to the deck-hand who was on duty forward.

"On deck, sir," replied Buck, touching his cap to the mate.

"You told me this morning, when you set me ashore, that the pilot sent a letter to the city last night by a boat he hailed."

"Yes, sir; three or four of us were on deck at the time, if there is any doubt about it," replied the deck-hand.

"No doubt at all about it. Did you notice the boatman that took the letter?"

"It was a blacky I have seen a dozen times about the steamer and on the wharf, looking for jobs for that boat-yard," replied Buck. "He was in the barge that brought off the passengers to-day."

"All right, Buck;" and the deck-hand retired. "After I heard about this letter, I didn't expect anything of Cobbington, if I found him."

"Did you find him?"

"I did; he was not out of his bed when I called for him. He told me he had two water moccasins, and one of them had got away while he had a room at Captain Boomsby's. He did not know what became of him. He had looked all about the house without being able to find him."

"Did he tell you what became of the other?"

"I asked him that question, and he told me he had him still. I asked him to let me see him, but he refused in spite of all I could say to induce him to show him. He said the snake was nailed up in a box, with only some holes bored in it to admit the air; and he could not show the snake without taking off the cover of the box. The moccasin was a dangerous fellow, and he didn't want to run any risks with him. He had left his last boarding-place because they killed a rattlesnake belonging to him. I asked him to show me the box, but he wouldn't even do that, and said it was all nonsense to show the box."

"You made up your mind that he had no moccasin?" I added.

"No more than I had. On my way down from the house I met his landlord, coming home from the market. He asked me if I had found Cobbington. I told him I had, and then informed him his lodger kept a live moccasin snake in his room. He was greatly astonished at what I told him, and declared that he wouldn't have a moccasin in his house for all the money there was in Jacksonville; the snake might get loose, and bite his wife or one of his children. He intimated that he should hasten home and turn Cobbington out of his house: he would not have any man under his roof who would endanger the lives of his wife and children."

"That was bad for Cobbington," I replied, with a smile.

"I told the landlord what his lodger said, that he had the moccasin nailed up in a box. He didn't care how he kept him: he would not have such a fellow about his house. I added that I did not believe Cobbington had any such snake in his room, though he insisted that he had. Then he either had a moccasin, or he lied about it, and in either case he didn't want the fellow in his house. I came to the conclusion that the landlord wanted to turn out his lodger, and only wished for a reasonable excuse for getting rid of him. I left him; and I suppose Cobbington has been turned out by this time. I shouldn't want a poisonous snake in my house."

"Nor a man who would lie without a reasonable excuse," I added.

The steamer went along at her usual speed. I returned to the pilot-house, where by this time Owen had installed all the young ladies he could get into it. They were all full of fun and jollity, and were enjoying the excursion to the utmost. As it seemed to me that they ought to do so, I found no occasion to complain. I could not help suspecting that the pilot might be guilty of some treachery, after the events of the morning, and I deemed it advisable to have a close watch upon him. But he kept the steamer in the middle of the river, where I had been informed there were no shoals; and certainly no rocks, for not one could be found in this part of the state, even big enough to stone a stray dog.

"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. It was half-past eleven when we had secured the steamer to the wharf. The band played some popular airs, and in a few minutes I judged that we had the entire population of the village on the wharf. It was a lively time for Mandarin, which is a remarkably quiet place. I believe I saw something like a store there, though I am not quite sure. About all the houses are on the bank of the river, and were reached by a long, narrow foot-bridge, built over the lagoon. From the main bridge, cross bridges extended to each house.

At twelve the lunch was ready, and the excursionists went down into the cabin to attend to it, while the band on the hurricane-deck continued to play. An oyster chowder and baked shad were the principal substantials of the lunch; and while they were served, Gopher was the greatest man on board. As soon as the lunch was disposed of, and the cook had been sufficiently complimented, the party went on shore. Cornwood led the way over the long foot-bridge.

"There is an alligator in the wild state," I said to Miss Margie, as I was walking with her and her father.

"I don't see anything," she replied.

"Don't you see that splashing in the water, with something black in the midst of it? That is an alligator, the first one I ever saw," I added.

It looked like a stick of wood. A little farther along we saw one on a log. He was not more than three feet long. He attracted the attention of the party, who had never seen one in his native element before; but we expected to see larger ones in the course of a week or two. Mrs. Stowe's cottage was one of the first we came to. It was a one-story, wooden house, with no pretensions to elegance. An immense live-oak grew near it, and covered the cottage with its branches. Around it was an orange grove, on the trees of which many oranges still remained. The distinguished lady was not at home, and we did not see her.

We walked to the end of the bridge, looking at the pretty dwellings on the shore, and then went upon the land, where we had quite a ramble. But an hour enabled us to see all there was of the place, and we embarked for the return. Before five o'clock we were in sight of Jacksonville. The pilot ran the boat as near the shore as it was safe to go, and the barge I had engaged to be present transported the party to the shore. Mrs. Mitchell's house looked very pleasant from the outside; but we were principally interested in the garden and orange grove. It was said that over five thousand oranges had been gathered from one of the trees we saw. We examined a great variety of semi-tropical trees and shrubs, such as lemon, banana, grape-fruit, and others I cannot remember.

The party dined on the river, and landed at the market at six.



CHAPTER XIX.

THE ADVENTURES OF AN INVALID.

Mr. Cornwood had been very polite and pliable all day, and his skill as a pilot won my commendation. When he expressed a desire to remain on shore, at the wharf, I did not object. As soon as the anchor was let go, all hands were piped to supper; but I was in no condition to take another meal that day, after the dinner with the excursionists, from which I had risen an hour before. I was glad to be alone in my state-room, after the excitement of the day. In spite of what had transpired in the morning, and in spite of the evidence obtained by Washburn in regard to the snake, I could not help wondering if, after all, the pilot was not innocent of any evil intentions.

It seemed to me that a man of his education, having a profession, could not take part in any small conspiracy, such as Captain Boomsby would be likely to get up. If either Cornwood or Griffin Leeds, his agent, intended to do me any harm, it seemed to me they had had abundant opportunity to do it already. The pilot might have wrecked the vessel, and the waiter might have poisoned the food I ate. I resolved to be very careful how I charged Cornwood with any evil, unless it was capable of being proved.

"I should like to go on shore, Alick, if you have nothing better for me to do," said Washburn, coming into my room when he had finished his supper.

"I have nothing for you to do," I replied. "What's up now?"

"I have some curiosity to know what has become of Cobbington; and I think I shall call upon his landlord," replied the mate, laughing.

"I will go with you, if you have no objection," I added.

"I should be glad of your company," said he, leading the way to the gangway. "Hold on a minute, captain," he added, when I began to order my boat. "There is the boatman that carried off Cornwood's letter. He is looking for a job: suppose we give him one?"

I did not object, and the mate hailed the boatman. We seated ourselves in his boat, and he pulled for the shore. Our uniforms gave us great distinction among the colored people. Very likely some of them thought we were United States naval officers: at any rate, they all treated us with "distinguished consideration."

"What's your name, boatman?" asked Washburn.

"Moses Dripple," replied the man.

"Well, Moses Dripple, were you alongside our steamer last evening?" continued the mate.

"Yes, sar; made a quarter taking a letter ashore," answered Moses, showing teeth enough for a full-grown alligator.

"Put it in the post-office, did you?" inquired Washburn, indifferently, as he looked behind him at the steamer.

"No, sar; didn't put it into the post-office; car'ed it to a saloon-keeper, and he gave me a drink of apple-jack, as soon as he had read it, for bringin' de letter."

"Is it possible that you drink apple-jack?" asked the mate, with some observations on the folly of drinking liquor.

"Drink it when I git it, sar."

"Where did you get your apple-jack?"

"At de saloon; where else would I get it, sar?"

"I suppose it made you so boozy you don't know where the saloon was," added the mate, keeping up his indifference, as though his talk was mere banter.

"It was de new saloon, sar; not boozy at all, sar; Captain Boomsby keeps dat saloon. Mighty mean man, Captain Boomsby. As soon as he done read de letter, he put on his coat, and left de saloon."

That was all that Washburn cared to know—that the letter from Cornwood had gone to Captain Boomsby; and he bestowed a look of triumph upon me. I paid the boatman a quarter, and we walked up to Bay Street. We had hardly turned the corner before we came plump upon a man who seemed to be very anxious to meet my friend and companion. I had never seen him before.

"Mr. Cobbington, this is Captain Garningham, of the steamer Sylvania," said Washburn, chuckling.

"How do you do, Mr. Cobbington," I replied.

"How are you, captain: I'm glad to see both of you," replied Cobbington. "One of you has got me into a bad scrape, for this morning, Gavett, the man I boarded with, turned me out of his house because I had a moccasin snake in a box in my room."

"Rough on you, was he?" added the mate.

"Mighty rough! I have been looking for another room all day, and I can't get one. I've got to sleep out-doors to-night," replied Cobbington, with a very long face.

"You shouldn't keep poisonous snakes in your room," I added.

"He never would have known it if this man hadn't told him," said the snake-man, turning to the mate. "I don't know your name, but you got me into a very bad scrape for an invalid; and that's the reason why I am down in Florida, instead of at home where I could earn a decent living," whined Cobbington. "I shall die in a week, if I have to sleep out in the night-air: and I don't know of even a shed to get under."

"It was no more than right to tell a man you had a poisonous reptile in his house," added Washburn. "The snake might have got out, and bitten his wife and children."

"Early this morning I paid Gavett the last dollar I had for the rent of the room; and I haven't had a mouthful to eat since I had my breakfast. How long can an invalid live, sleeping out-doors, with nothing to eat?" added Cobbington.

I saw the tears roll down the thin cheeks of the man, and my sympathies were excited. I saw it was the same with Washburn.

"I have been in to see Captain Boomsby; I had a room in his house for a while, and always paid for it. He wouldn't let me sleep on the floor in one of his empty chambers, nor give me anything to eat," continued the poor wretch.

"You shall have something to eat, and a place to sleep," I said.

We went over the way to Lyman's restaurant with him, and I ordered a sirloin steak and fried potatoes for him, with other food. When it came, he devoured it like a starving man. Whatever other lies he had told, it was the truth that he was very hungry.

"That is the best meal I have eaten since I came into Florida," said he with emphasis, when he had drained his coffee-cup. "Gentlemen, I am more than grateful to you. I have struggled hard to keep my soul and body together, and I've done it so far, though there isn't much left of my body. I could live here, if I could earn enough to live on. You have been kind to me; and now I'm going to tell you something: I have no moccasin-snake, and I never had one, say nothing of two. I know I'm a liar; but I told that lie for a dollar Boomsby gave me for telling it, so that I need not be turned out of my room. If I had that Judas dollar, I would send it back to Boomsby, and die with a clean conscience."

"It never pays to do wrong," I added, deeply moved by the invalid's story.

"I told Gavett I had no snake; but he turned me out, all the same. I showed him everything I had; and he could find no box for the snake: only a lot of baby alligators, that won't hurt anybody. I make a quarter now and then by selling them to the children at the hotels. I had to sell my gun I used to shoot alligators with for their teeth; my best clothes are pawned; and my trunk is about as empty as my stomach was half an hour ago. I have got about to the end of my rope; and I don't know what will become of me."

"We will see what we can do for you, Mr. Cobbington," I added. "What was your business at home?"

"I have done almost everything. I was brought up on a farm, and had a pretty good education. My father and mother both died, and my brother followed them, all in consumption. I went to teaching school, for we lost the farm, and I had to take care of myself before I was twenty. My health gave out, and I tried to work on a farm, but I wasn't strong enough. Then I went to tending table at a summer hotel, and saved about a hundred dollars. A man told me I should get well if I came to Florida. I thought I could make my living here, and I came. I brought a gun with me, and went into the woods. I shot deer, wild turkeys, and alligators. I sold the game and the teeth, and got along pretty well in the winter. Last summer I spent all the money I had left in coming down here. My health was pretty good then. I sold my gun for sixty dollars, half what it was worth, and did jobbing enough to keep me alive. I worked as a waiter on a steamer, in place of a sick man, for a month, and left the boat at Silver Spring, where the man took his place. I hired a gun, and tried to get a living by shooting again; but I couldn't find a market for the game. I had to give it up.

"I had a lot of alligators' teeth, a rattlesnake, which a gentleman on a steamer offered to give me ten dollars for in Jacksonville, and I worked my way down here. I sold the teeth; but the man that wanted the rattlesnake was at St. Augustine, and I had to wait till he came back, on his way north. Boomsby's wife turned me out when she found she didn't like me, and they killed the snake at the St. Johns. I couldn't stay there any longer now I had lost the ten dollars for the snake. My money was all gone; but I picked up a little selling babies."

"Selling babies!" exclaimed Washburn.

"Baby alligators, I mean," added Cobbington, with a languid smile. "My health was good while I was in the woods; I don't have any cough now, but I've been running down lately."

Poor fellow! My heart was touched for him. It was hard to grub for a bare subsistence, with the immediate prospect of dying in the street. Washburn looked expressively at me, and I nodded to him. We rose from the table, and told Cobbington to come with us. We took him to a clothing-house, fitted him out with a new suit, yacht-club style, with a white canvas cap like my own, except the gold band. We supplied him with under-clothing, and with everything he needed, even to handkerchiefs, socks, and shoes. Having obtained these, one-half of the cost of which Washburn insisted upon paying, we next visited a bath-house, where the invalid "washed and was clean." He then clothed himself in the new clothes, and came out of the bath-room looking like another person.

We went to the wharf, where we obtained a boat, and in a few minutes we were on board. I formally engaged the man to take the place of Griffin Leeds, as the waiter at the mess in the forward cabin. He had served in this capacity in an hotel, and on steamers on the St. Johns and Ocklawaha rivers. I gave him a berth in the forward cabin. I think he was happy when he turned into it.

On Sunday I went to church in St. James Square, and called upon Owen as I came out. Colonel Shepard informed me that he had chartered a steamer that plied on the Ocklawaha at times, to take us anywhere that a steamer could go. She was small, but large enough for our party.

I dined with the family and their guests, and went on board in the afternoon. The steward was entirely satisfied with the manner in which Cobbington had discharged his duties, and the invalid was the happiest man I had seen in the Land of Flowers.



CHAPTER XX.

DIFFICULTIES IN THE WAY OF DEPARTURE.

Except in Jacksonville, there was no market on the St. Johns River; and Mr. Peeks had been not a little disturbed in relation to the culinary department of the Sylvania. He could not go on shore at the villages on the river, and buy what he wanted; but with several steamers every day going up to Pilatka, and several every week going up the Ocklawaha, I assured him he would have no difficulty about feeding his passengers. He made an arrangement with the keeper of the stall where he had obtained his best meats to forward to him, on his order, such supplies as would be needed, including ice, which was a prime necessity, not so much to preserve the meats as to cool the water, and put various articles in condition for the table.

In spite of the general belief in the dampness of a Florida atmosphere, I learned that meats would keep longer than in Michigan. There are no cellars in Florida, and the dwelling-houses are usually set on posts planted in the ground. Meats are hung up in a shady place, where they will keep for a week or more; and even then they are dried up, instead of being tainted or putrefied. The steward had filled the ice-house with the best beef, mutton, and poultry he could find, most of which came from New York, though some of the Southern markets are supplied with beef from Tennessee and Kentucky. Most of the cattle of Florida range through the woods and pick up their living, so that they are not properly fatted for the market, and look like "Pharaoh's lean kine."

No particular hour had been fixed upon for starting on the up-river trip, but the passengers came on board at ten in the forenoon. At this time steam was up in the boilers, and everything ready for an immediate departure. But Mr. Cornwood had not put in an appearance. I had not seen him since he went on shore at the wharf, on Saturday evening. I was not much annoyed, for I knew where I could get a pilot at fifteen minutes' notice.

Chloe, Griffin Leeds's wife, had come off with the ladies. She remained perfectly neutral, though she knew all about the troubles with her husband. I looked at her with some interest when she came on deck; but she seemed to be as cheerful and pleasant as ever. If she had said anything to the ladies about Griffin, nothing had come to me. As her husband was not to be on board, I told the steward to give her one of the after-berths in the cabin. She was so polite, attentive, and kind, so wholly devoted to her duties, that the ladies had become very much attached to her, treating her more like a friend than a servant.

Chloe was not more than twenty-two years old. She had been a stewardess on a Charleston steamer, running up to Pilatka, at the time of her marriage to Griffin Leeds, who was second waiter in the same boat. She was entirely familiar with her duties, and when they were reduced to attendance upon three ladies, she discharged them with the most punctilious care.

"What are we waiting for, Alick?" asked Washburn, as I seated myself in the pilot-house when all the preparations for our departure were completed, and I could think of nothing more to be done, though I had left the port boat in the water in case it became necessary to go on shore for a pilot.

"Cornwood has not come off yet," I replied.

"Where is he?"

"I have no idea."

"Does he intend to play us a trick, and leave us in the lurch, now that we are all ready for a start?" asked the mate, with some anxiety on his face.

"I don't know, and I don't much care," I replied. "I don't know that I ought to blame him much, since no fixed hour was named for starting."

"He ought to be on board like the rest of us, so that whenever his services are required he may be ready to do his work," added Washburn, impatiently. "You say you don't much care whether or not he intends to play us a trick and leave us in the lurch. How are you to get on without a pilot?"

"I can have one on board in half an hour at the most. There are plenty of them, and I find they are glad to serve in such a nobby craft as the Sylvania, where they have easy work and the best of grub," I replied.

"There comes a boat. I see the Panama hat and light clothes in it," added Washburn, evidently relieved, for he was impatient for the voyage to begin.

In a minute more the pilot was on the deck of the steamer.

"I hope I have not delayed you," said he, when he saw that we were all ready to leave.

"Not long," I replied, wishing to make things as pleasant as possible with him for the trip of three weeks.

"I did not know at what hour you intended to leave, or I should have been on board before," pleaded Cornwood. "I have been very busy with some legal business this morning."

"If you are all ready, we will be off at once," I continued.

I hastened to the pilot-house, expecting him to follow me; but instead of doing so, he passed through the engine-room, and disappeared on the other side of the vessel. I concluded he had gone below for another coat he wore when at the wheel. I went into the pilot-house, thinking he would appear in a moment. The anchor was hove up to a short stay; but the wind was blowing quite fresh from the south-west, and I did not care to get under way in his absence from the wheel. I waited ten minutes; and then my patience began to give out. I left the pilot-house, with the intention of sending below for the pilot, when I was informed that a boat had just come alongside.

It contained Captain Boomsby and Griffin Leeds.

Though I had tried to make myself proof against harboring any suspicions, I thought the long delay of Cornwood was explained. He had been very busy with legal business that morning. Did it relate to the affairs of Griffin Leeds and my ancient enemy?

"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. He had come to attach the steamer on the suit of Captain Boomsby, to obtain possession of her on his old claim, and to trustee Owen Garningham for any money that might be due to me. I allowed the officer to come on deck. He was a very gentlemanly man, and had applied to Colonel Ives when the writ was given to him. The colonel had filled out a bond as surety for the defendant, to be signed by Colonel Shepard; and that gentleman at once put his autograph on the document.

The officer was entirely satisfied, and was about to take his departure when Cornwood appeared; but he offered no objection, and the writ had not come from his office. Captain Boomsby was in a violent passion when he learned that the steamer was to be allowed to proceed on her voyage up the river. He swore at the officer, and declared that he had not done his duty. The steamer belonged to him, and he insisted on coming on board.

"I came off for my wife," said Griffin Leeds. "I want her to go on shore with me."

This demand seemed to me a more serious complication than that of Captain Boomsby's ridiculous suit. I did not know much about law, but I had an idea that a man had a right to his own wife. Colonel Shepard was a lawyer, though he did not practise his profession, and I was entirely willing to leave this matter to him, for he was more interested in it than any other person, as his wife was an invalid, and needed Chloe's attentions more than the other ladies.

"Don't let her go," said the Colonel; and so said all the ladies.

"You can't separate man and wife," said Cornwood.

"We don't propose to separate man and wife," replied Colonel Shepard, before I had time to say anything. "If his wife wants to go, she is at perfect liberty to do so. Ask Chloe to come on deck," he added, turning to the steward.

The stewardess appeared a minute later.

"Here, Chloe, I want you to come on shore with me," shouted Griffin Leeds, when he saw his wife. "I have got a room all furnished for you, and I've got a situation as second waiter at a hotel."

"No, I thank you!" replied Chloe, pertly. "I'm going to stay where I am."

I was not a little surprised to hear her make this answer, for I supposed she would follow the fortunes of her husband, whatever they were. I knew nothing in regard to their marital relations, whether they were pleasant or otherwise, though I had never seen anything to lead me to suppose they were unpleasant.

"I want you to come with me; you are my wife and you must come!" said Griffin, angrily. "I forbid your going in this steamer."

"You can forbid all day if you like; I'm going in the steamer!" answered Chloe, very decidedly. "I don't go with you any more, if I can help it."

"You are my wife, and you can't help it," retorted the husband.

"I haven't got anything more to say about it. I won't go with you; and that's the whole of it," said the stewardess, retreating to the cabin.

Griffin Leeds swore like a pirate, and declared he would be the death of his wife if she didn't come with him. He called upon the officer to arrest Chloe, and compel her to go on shore with him.

"Give me a proper warrant, and I will arrest her," replied the officer, laughing.

"I am her husband; and I tell you to take her out of that steamer," cried Griffin, foaming with wrath.

"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."

"The woman is a free citizen of Florida," added the officer; "and she can go where she pleases without any restraint."

"So far as the legal question is concerned, I suppose the woman cannot be put under any restraint," said Cornwood; "but the idea of carrying off the woman against the protest of her husband, is not, morally, the right thing to do. I think you had better discharge the woman, and then you will be free from the possibility of blame."

"I don't propose to meddle with the matter in any way," I replied promptly. "I don't know but you have a wife. If she should come here and protest against my carrying you off up the river, I don't think I should pay any attention to her."

"That's another question," replied Cornwood, smartly.

"I don't think it is: what is sauce for goose is sauce for gander. You will take the wheel, Mr. Cornwood. Forward, there! Heave up the anchor."

As soon as the anchor was atrip, I rang the bell to go ahead.



CHAPTER XXI.

A VISIT TO ORANGE PARK.

Cornwood was slow to move, after I directed him to take the wheel. I saw that he was not yet in the pilot-house, when I rang the bell to go ahead. I directed the mate with Ben and Landy to prevent any of the party in the boat from coming on board, and hastened to the pilot-house. But before I reached the door Cornwood was at the wheel. He threw it over, and met the boat with the helm when she began to make headway. I was not quite sure that he did not intend to rebel; but I was ready to send him ashore the instant he did so in word or deed. My suspicions began to gather weight again. He had evidently delayed the steamer until the arrival of the boat containing Captain Boomsby and the husband of the stewardess.

I could easily fancy that the pilot was at the bottom of all the proceedings to delay or prevent the departure of the boat. The attachment was to prevent her going at all; the claim for the stewardess was to help along the matter. It seemed to me that some heavy reward had been promised to Cornwood for his services, or he would not endanger the liberal wages he was paid for his services on board of the Sylvania. But I knew nothing about the matter, and it was useless to conjecture what he was driving at.

The steamer was headed up the river, and we had actually begun our long-talked-of trip. Cornwood steered the boat as well as usual, but he was moody and silent. If he was ugly and bent on mischief, the worst he could do, as I understood the matter, was to run the steamer aground. This would not be a very serious calamity, and could involve no worse consequences than a loss of time. I was not alarmed at anything he might do while we were sailing up the river. I seated myself at the side of the wheel, and allowed things to take their course, as, in New Jersey, when it rains, they let it rain. But if Cornwood was angry, he cooled off in the course of half an hour, and remarked that it was a delightful day for the start. I was not obstinate on this point, and I agreed with him.

"I don't think you treated me quite fairly, Captain Garningham, in the affairs of poor Griff and his wife," said he, when the steamer was off Mulberry Grove.

"Didn't treat you fairly!" I exclaimed, astonished at this new phase of the argument. "Do I treat you unfairly because I won't have a man with murder in his heart on board? Do I treat you unfairly because his wife refuses to leave her place?"

"I have told you the reason why I am interested in the man; I am under obligations to him," added Cornwood.

"I have no objection to your being interested in him to the last day of his life; but I am not sufficiently interested in him to have a man who draws a knife on another in this vessel," I answered. "I am not under obligations to him."

"I have done the best I can to serve you, and I thought a friend of mine might be entitled to some consideration," continued Cornwood, with an injured innocence of tone and manner.

"Your influence procured for him and his wife places on board; and Griffin might have retained his position, if he had behaved half as well as his wife has."

"Poor Griff lay down on the deck to take a nap——"

"I don't care to hear that argument over again. I could have passed over the scuffle, if he had not drawn his knife when there was nothing to provoke him," I interposed.

"The assistant engineer did not tell the truth when he said he did not lay the weight of his hand on him," protested Cornwood.

"I believe he did. I don't believe Griffin was asleep. He lay down with his ear to the skylight of the captain's room in order to hear what passed between me and the mate. This is the second time Griffin was caught in the act of listening. More than this, the assistant engineer was on the watch, by my order, for eavesdroppers, as will appear at the trial," I replied, with energy.

"By your orders?" exclaimed Cornwood.

"By my orders. Both the engineer and the assistant were asked to do this duty, because Griffin was seen before, skulking where he had no business to be."

"The mate assaulted poor Griff the other day," added the pilot.

"He caught him listening under the windows of our room, and took him by the collar for it, if that is what you mean by assaulting him."

"He had no right to take him by the collar."

"I will grant that he had not; but when one is in the midst of eavesdroppers, his indignation may get the better of his judgment," I replied.

"That was just the case with poor Griff; but he is a poor man, and not the son of an ex-governor; and he is persecuted to the full penalty of the law for it," growled Cornwood.

"I think there is some difference in the cases. Griffin was skulking about, trying to listen to conversation which did not concern him. If he wants to take a nap, he lies down with his ear to an open skylight. Mr. Washburn is charged with the discipline of the vessel; and when your friend attempted to escape from the place where he was caught, the mate took him by the collar. Griffin, or you, as his counsel, might have prosecuted him for the assault, if you had thought proper to do so," I answered.

"I am sorry I did not do so, after what has happened since."

"I am sorry you did not, for it would have brought to light some things which have not yet been ventilated."

"What do you mean by that, captain?" demanded the pilot, looking furtively into my face.

"It is not necessary to explain matters that have not yet been brought into the case," I replied coldly. "I think we had better drop the subject, and not allude to it again. As a guide and pilot, I am entirely satisfied with you. Griffin Leeds has been discharged; and he cannot be employed again under any circumstances on this vessel. I won't have a man about who is skulking under windows, listening to what don't concern him, or a man who will draw a knife on another."

"The steward wants to know at what hour he shall serve dinner in the cabin to-day?" asked Cobbington, poking his head into the pilot-house at this moment.

For some reason not apparent to me, the pilot was so startled at the sound of the new waiter's voice that he let go the wheel, as he was swinging the boat around at a bend of the river. The wheel flew over with force enough to knock a man down if it had hit him. I immediately grasped the spokes, and began to heave it over again.

"No harm done; my hand slipped," said the pilot.

"Good morning, Mr. Cornwood," added the new waiter, with a broad grin on his face. "I didn't know you were the pilot of this steamer. I hope you are very well."

"Very well," answered Cornwood, with an utterly disgusted expression on his face, as he continued to throw the wheel over.

"I think the passengers will not dine on board to-day," I replied to the question of the waiter. "But I will let the steward know in season."

The forward-cabin steward retired. It was evident that Cornwood had not seen him on board before, and that he was not at all pleased to have him as a fellow-voyager on the river. Cobbington looked as though he had gained twenty pounds in flesh since he came on board on Saturday night. In his new clothes he presented a very neat appearance; and he had done his duty faithfully. He was so familiar with his work, that he required scarcely any instruction. All hands were greatly interested in his accounts of forest life in Florida, and he appeared to be a general favorite. By Monday morning, he was generally called the "sportsman."

"Is that man employed on board?" asked Cornwood, soon after Cobbington took his head out of the door.

"He is; he takes the place of Griffin Leeds," I replied.

"How long has he been on board?"

"He came on Saturday night."

"He is a good-for-nothing vagabond!" exclaimed the pilot.

"He has had a hard time of it in Florida, according to his own account. If he does his duty, that is all I want of him," I added.

"Where did you pick him up?"

"He hailed Mr. Washburn in the street when I was with him, and we brought him off with us. He was in a starving condition, and Captain Boomsby, at whose house he used to have a room, refused to give him even a supper. I believe he has been in the snake business to some extent," I replied, indifferently.

I knew very well that Cornwood wished to know precisely what our relations were with Cobbington; but he was not so simple as to ask any questions about them. I could not prove that Captain Boomsby had placed the moccasin in the closet of the room where he had confined me, for my benefit, but I could prove that the explanation of the presence of the snake there was without any foundation in truth. Griffin Leeds had discovered by listening to the conversation of the mate and myself, that we were investigating the matter, and had a clue to Cobbington. Then Cornwood had sent a note to the saloon-keeper to this effect, and Captain Boomsby had bribed the invalid with a dollar to lie about the matter.

While I was reasonably certain in regard to such portions of the chain of the story as I had been compelled to supply, I could not prove all I believed. On the other hand, Cornwood was an exceedingly valuable person to me as guide and pilot, and I was unwilling to dispense with his services until he showed the cloven foot too palpably to be retained.

The Sylvania was approaching Orange Park, a place which Colonel Shepard desired to visit. A sign four hundred feet long, and fifteen feet high, the largest in the world, indicates the locality. It can be read a mile off, and the visitor "who runs may read." Cornwood ran the steamer alongside the long pier, and our passengers landed. Mr. Benedict, the enterprising Rhode Islander who owns the vast estate of nine thousand acres, was on the wharf to welcome them. The place had formerly been an immense sugar plantation; but the present owner had cut it up into small farms and town lots, and considerable progress had been made in peopling it with residents from the North.

The bluffs were thirty feet high on the river, and the highest elevation was seventy feet, about the highest on the St. Johns. Quite a number of dwelling-houses had been erected, including a hotel, and the place had a store, a school, and a hall for religious services. Several thousand orange-trees had been set out, and were in a thrifty condition. They set out stumps of sour orange-trees, three inches in diameter, and graft into them two shoots, a few inches above the ground. These had grown two or three feet in a single year, and in five or six years they would be in bearing condition. Young trees, five or six feet high, are also set out. If the orange grower is successful, the crop is exceedingly profitable.

Lots of from one to twenty acres were sold at from one to thirteen hundred dollars, as they were nearer or farther from the river. A house that would answer the purpose of a settler could be built for one hundred and thirty dollars, and a comfortable cottage for five hundred dollars.

We walked up to the hotel, and dined with the proprietor.



CHAPTER XXII.

FISHING IN DOCTOR'S LAKE.

After a very good dinner, we were invited to take a ride in an Orange Park carriage. The vehicle was a platform wagon, with stakes, such as is called a "hay rigging" in some parts of the North, drawn by a pair of mules. I found that a mule in this locality cost more than a house for the ordinary settler. On the platform were placed chairs enough to seat all the party, including Cornwood, Washburn, and myself. The proprietor was the driver, and as we proceeded on the excursion, he explained everything of interest. He drove to an old orange-tree that had borne four thousand oranges that year. Near it was a tangled grove of fig-trees, the first I had ever seen.

From this point we struck into the woods. We crossed a clear brook which was never dry; and Miss Margie asked if there were any snakes on the place. Mr. Benedict thought there might be, though he had never seen any.

"Oh, isn't that magnificent! Perfectly lovely!" cried Miss Edith in ecstasies.

"Beautiful!" added Miss Margie. "Did you ever see anything like it?"

I had not, for one. The sight which had called forth these enthusiastic exclamations was a perfect forest of jasmine in full blossom. The trees that grew near the brook were of a young growth, and for half an acre in extent they were loaded with jasmine vines so thickly covered with flowers that the green leaves could hardly be seen. The ladies were all delighted. Washburn and I got out, and gathered half a cord or so of the vines, thus loaded with blossoms, and the wagon was as fragrant as a perfume shop.

We entered a forest of pines, where we found a house built by a couple of young men who had been several years in Cuba, and intended to cultivate the sugar-cane. In the midst of the woods we came to an old church, without a house within a mile of it, and which had been three or four miles from any dwelling in the days when it was used. It was a rather large log-house, now in a ruinous condition, in which the planters and their families had once attended divine services. Not far from it the proprietor stopped his team, and we all got off the wagon. We were conducted to the "Roaring Magnetic Spring," which was one of the features of the place. Florida is a great place for springs of various kinds. We were all arranged on a wooden platform over the spring, which was a tunnel-shaped cavity in the blue sand of the earth, about ten feet deep.

"Now keep still a moment," said Mr. Benedict.

We listened, and the roaring of the spring was easily heard when the voices of the party did not drown it.

"Isn't it beautiful!" exclaimed Miss Margie, as she bent over and gazed into the spring, the waters of which, for six feet down, were as clear as crystal. "Aren't those sand clouds pretty?"

As the water boiled up from the bottom of the spring, it carried the sand up in clearly-curved clouds until their own gravity caused the particles to sink, and again be thrown up by the force of the water. The party watched this phenomenon with interest for some time, for not one of them had ever seen anything like it, with the exception of Mr. Cornwood.

"Now, I want to show you something still more remarkable," continued the proprietor, as he produced two long, narrow strips of board. "You have heard the roaring of the spring, and now I want to convince you that it is magnetic."

He placed the ends of the strips at the bottom of the spring, and then disposed of each of the other ends on the sides of Colonel Shepard's head. The same experiment was then tried upon Mr. Tiffany, and all the other members of the party. The roaring seemed to penetrate, and pass through one's head. Owen declared that the process had cured him of a headache he had had all day; but Mr. Tiffany, while he was much interested in the phenomenon, was somewhat skeptical in regard to the magnetic properties of the spring.

We resumed our seats on the Orange Park carriage, and rode to Doctor's Lake. It was said to be a dozen miles long, and from one to three miles wide. We were told there were plenty of fish in this lake, and we were disposed to verify the truth of the assertion. We returned to the hotel, delighted with our drive, and Mrs. Shepard declared that she should like to live at Orange Park. Before we left, the Colonel had bargained for two lots on the St. Johns, and to have them covered with orange-trees. We started for the end of the pier where the steamer lay, for the shallow water did not permit a near approach to the land.

As we approached the Sylvania, we heard a scream from a woman on board. I was not a little startled by the sound, and Washburn and I broke into a run. On the quarter-deck we found Griffin Leeds and Chloe. Her husband had seized her by the arm, and was dragging her towards the gangway. Already Ben Bowman and the two deck-hands were rushing to her assistance, and before we could reach the scene of action they had grappled with Leeds, and released Chloe.

The stewardess retreated to the farthest part of the deck, and appeared to be in mortal terror of her husband. Griffin Leeds drew a knife,—not the one he had used before, for that was in the possession of the city marshal of Jacksonville,—and threatened to take the life of any one that interfered with him. It was evident that he had seen the party coming from the hotel, and had made a desperate effort to secure possession of his wife before we could defeat his purpose. I was afraid some of the ship's company would get hurt when I saw the knife. Griffin's wrath seemed to be especially kindled against the assistant engineer, on account of the affair on Saturday.

"You white-livered villain!" said he, gnashing his teeth, with a savage oath, "I will teach you to meddle with me!"

He rushed at Ben, with the knife gleaming in the air; but Ben, who was as cool as when on duty in the engine-room, grasped his uplifted arm with the left hand, while he placed his right on the throat of the assassin. Though the engineer was no taller or heavier than I was, he was very athletic and very active. He did not move or make any demonstration till the assailant was within reach of him, and then he grappled with him. In vain Griffin Leeds struggled to release his hand from the grasp of the engineer, who held it as firmly as though it had been screwed up in the vise in the engine-room.

Buck Lingley was not an instant behind Ben in taking prompt action. He seized the other hand of the furious octoroon, while Hop Tossford laid both hands on his coat-collar behind. In another instant Griffin Leeds was borne down upon the deck. The young ladies of our party began to scream and run up the pier; and Mrs. Shepard was so agitated that her husband feared for the consequences.

"Tie his hands behind him, and put him ashore!" I shouted.

My order was promptly obeyed, and Ben and Buck began to march the desperate husband up the pier.

"There is no more danger of him, ladies," said Ben, as he approached the young ladies.

Miss Margie and Miss Edith halted, and when the men with their prisoner had passed them, they scampered to the steamer as fast as they could run. Mrs. Shepard was assisted on board, and the danger seemed to be passed. Chloe was herself again, and flew to the assistance of the invalid lady. But Mrs. Shepard recovered from her agitation in a few minutes.

"I say, Alick, how much more of this sort of thing are we to have," asked Owen, when the excitement had subsided. "Are we to have a scene like this every day in the week?"

"I hope not," I replied.

"We had better let the man's wife go than have him following us in this sort of fashion. How came the fellow up here, when we left him at Jacksonville this forenoon?"

"I suppose he came up in that steamer," I answered, pointing to a boat a couple of miles up the river. "The hands ought not to have let the fellow come on board."

"The rascal is a regular butcher, and we must all follow the American fashion of carrying a revolver."

"I see just how it was: we had to run in at the side of this pier, so that a steamer that had occasion to stop here could make a landing at the end of the wharf."

"Is that the reason why that villain wanted to stab somebody?" asked Owen, with a wondering stare.

"Well, not exactly. The crew of the Sylvania were on the forecastle, under the awning, for I saw them rushing aft when I heard the woman scream," I continued.

"Then it was because the crew were on the forecastle?" inquired my cousin, with open mouth.

"When Griffin landed from that steamer, he probably saw Chloe on the quarter-deck, or if he did not, he went into the cabin and found her. The crew being forward of the deck-house did not see him. She refused to leave the steamer with him, and he undertook to take her away by force," I explained.

"And you think that makes it all right, Alick?" asked Owen.

"I think not. If I had thought of such a thing as Griffin's coming on board, I should have set a watch to prevent him from doing so. I shall take this precaution in future."

"Does that mean that you will set a watch in the future?" asked Owen, seriously.

"That is just what it means: and one is lucky when the dull brain of a Briton catches the idea," I replied.

The appearance of the young ladies called Owen away, and I announced to the passengers that they would want their fishing-gear in the course of half an hour. 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. Ben and Buck had returned, having made their prisoner fast to the railing of the pier, at the suggestion of Mr. Benedict, who said he would look out for him.

The steamer stopped when she was clear of the pier, and then went ahead. The pilot said he was perfectly familiar with the navigation of Doctor's Lake, having surveyed it in the service of the State. The water was very shallow near the shore, where we had broken through the bushes to its brink; but it was said to be very deep in many parts. I had read that the frequent passage of steamers over the waters of the St. Johns had driven the frightened fish into such places as Doctor's Lake. We entered its waters, and steamed several miles up the lake. Then the pilot rang the gong, and the vessel was soon at rest.

We baited our hooks, and dropped the lines into the lake. Miss Margie was the first to hook a fish. After a hard pull she got him to the top of the water. It was a catfish weighing twelve pounds. The Colonel and Owen were disgusted. A catfish is an exaggerated hornpout, or "bullhead." None but negroes eat them at the South.



CHAPTER XXIII.

TROLLING FOR BLACK BASS.

"The idea of fishing for catfish is absurd!" exclaimed Colonel Shepard. "It isn't a proper use to put a white man to."

"Don't fish so deep, then," suggested Cornwood. "The catfish live on the bottom."

I was as much disgusted with the idea of catching catfish as the Colonel, for I had seen plenty of them caught by the negroes on the wharves at Jacksonville. I took a good-sized spoon-hook, with three hundred feet of line attached to it, just as I had used it in Lake Superior, and cast the hook as far out into the water as I could. I trolled it home, and obtained quite a heavy bite. I tried it again, and this time hauled in a fish that would weigh six pounds.

"What's that, Mr. Cornwood?" I asked, as I brought the fish inboard.

"That's a black trout," replied the pilot.

"Black trout!" replied the Colonel, who was a great fisherman. "That isn't a trout of any sort! It is a black bass."

"We call them black trout on the St. Johns, where they are very plenty at some seasons of the year," added Cornwood.

"He is not quite like our black bass of the lakes of the State of New York; his head is larger," added the Colonel, after he had looked the fish over. "Still he is a black bass, and a big one too."

"Do you call that a big one?" demanded Cornwood contemptuously.

"I have fished a great deal in the New York lakes, and I never saw a black bass that would weigh more than four pounds and a half, though I have heard of them that weighed five."

"I have caught them that would weigh twelve," added the pilot.

The Colonel looked at him as though he were a descendant of the father of lies. I had three more spoon-hooks, with the necessary lines, two of which I had bought on the northern shore of Lake Superior. It was odd to think of fishing with them here in Florida. I sent Cornwood to the pilot-house, and told Moses to give the steamer about four knots an hour, for this was the way I used to do on Lakes Huron and Superior.

We had not room for more than four lines at the stern for trolling. I offered one of them to Mr. Tiffany; but he declined, pleading that he had no skill in this kind of fishing. The Colonel, Owen, Gus Shepard, and I, handled the lines. Going at four knots, the screw hardly broke the water, though possibly it astonished the fishes. Our lines had hardly run out their length before two of us had each a fish on his hook. The Colonel and I brought in a fish apiece, about the size of the one I had caught before. Owen and Gus took their turn while we were getting our fish off the hook. My cousin lost his, but Gus got his on board. The sport was quite equal to blue-fishing, which I had tried on the coast of Maine. In an hour we had twenty of them, all black bass. Miss Margie wished she might fish; I told her to put on her thick gloves and she might try. I baited the spoon-hook with a live little fish the pilot had procured, and gave her the line. In a few minutes she was tugging away at a fish. He was unusually gamy, leaping out of the water a dozen times on his way to the boat.

"I can't get him any further, captain!" cried she, out of breath with her exertions. I took the line from her, and hauled in the largest bass we had yet seen.

"It would be wicked to catch any more, for we can't use them," said the Colonel. "Here, steward, weigh this fish, if you please."

The bass Miss Margie had caught carried the spring scale down to twelve and a quarter.

"Where is Mr. Cornwood?" demanded Colonel Shepard; and he rushed forward to the pilot-house. "Mr. Cornwood, I doubted your statement when you said you had seen a black trout, or bass, that would weigh twelve pounds. I beg your pardon, for we have one that will weigh twelve and a quarter."

"I hope you will yet catch a bigger one, Colonel Shepard," replied the pilot, delighted to be vindicated.

"Now let her out, and run for Green Cove Springs," I interposed.

The deck-hands wound up the lines; we were soon out of the lake, and again headed up the St. Johns River. All the party were exhilarated by the fine sport we had had on the lake, and they were devoting themselves to a particular examination of the fish. Ben Bowman laid aside the dignity of his office as assistant engineer, and proceeded to dress the fish, which he was better qualified to do than any other person on board. It was about six o'clock in the afternoon when we finished fishing, and the cabin party were called to supper before we got out of the lake. As soon as they had sufficiently discussed the fish, they went below.

The mate relieved Cornwood at the wheel while the latter went to supper, which was ready at the same hour as the cabin meal. I preferred to take my supper with Washburn, and so I waited till half an hour later. I was talking with him about the fishing, when Chloe came to the door of the pilot-house, and with her usual smile said she would like to see me. I went out on the forecastle with her, for I thought she had taken the particular time when Cornwood was at supper to speak with me.

"Captain Garningham, I am willing to leave the Sylvania when the boat gets to Green Cove Springs, for I know that I am making a great deal of trouble on board," said she, showing her pretty white teeth.

"I was not aware that you had made any trouble on board," I replied. "It is your husband who has made all the trouble."

"Well, it is on my account; and if I leave the Sylvania, he will not trouble you any more," she added.

"I don't think the ladies in the cabin would be willing that you should leave."

"I am sure Griffin will be in Green Cove Springs to-night, and he will make a heap of trouble there as he has done to-day," continued Chloe. "I don't want to keep you in hot water all the time on my account."

"We understand the situation better than before, and we shall have no further trouble with Griffin. I shall have a hand forward and another aft whenever we are at anchor, or at a wharf, so that he can't get on board of the steamer," I replied. "If you don't want to go with him, all you have to do is to stay on board."

"I don't want to go with him," said she, with a good deal of energy. "If I could have found a place in a steamer going north, or anywhere that would take me away from him, I would have left him a year ago;" and her bright eyes snapped as though she meant all she said.

"How long have you been married?"

"Two years; and I was very foolish to have him. Griffin is a bad man," said she, shaking her head. "He was discharged from the Charleston steamer for getting up a fight, and drawing a knife on the steward. He beats me and abuses me, and I have been miserable ever since I married him. I have often been afraid of my life, he is so violent, especially when he has been drinking."

"Does he drink hard?"

"Only when he is ashore. If he did it on board any steamer, they would discharge him right off. When this trip in the Sylvania is done, I shall have a little money, and then I shall leave Florida by the first train, if the ladies will give me a recommendation so that I can get a place. I mean to change my name, and keep out of Griffin's way as long as I live, for he will kill me if I live with him. I had no comfort for a year till I came on board of this vessel."

"You were living in St. Augustine, were you?"

"Lived everywhere; we had been in St. Augustine two months when we engaged on this steamer. Griffin had a place at a hotel, and was turned off for getting drunk, and fighting. He must have been very bad, or they would not have let him go when they were so short of waiters. He wouldn't let me work anywhere, though I had plenty of chances to wait on table, and one to go in the San Jacinto to Nassau. He was afraid I should get some money and leave him, as I told him I would after he had whipped and kicked me. I have a mark on my shoulder where he bit me, not a week before we came on board of this vessel."

My sympathies were greatly excited; but in a quarrel between man and wife, I had heard older people say no one should interfere unless they came to blows, and I said nothing.

"Griffin sailed in some vessel with Mr. Cornwood, I believe," I added.

"Never in this world!" protested Chloe. "He was born and raised in Fernandina, as I was; and I can tell where he was every hour of his life, up to our marriage. He was on the same steamer with me three years, and both of us were at home up to that time."

"Why did you marry him if you knew him so well?" I asked, much interested in her story.

"Because I was foolish, and thought I could manage him. Perhaps I could, if he didn't drink no liquor."

"I was not aware that he was a drinking man."

"If you had got near enough to smell his breath to-day, you would have known that he drank liquor. He never seems to be very bad, but whiskey makes him ugly."

"He seems to be a good friend of Mr. Cornwood," I suggested.

"Well, he ought to be; for Mr. Cornwood got him out of a very bad scrape when he nearly killed a man in Jacksonville last January. I don't think much of Mr. Cornwood, neither. I reckon he uses Griffin as a witness when he wants one, for Griffin will swear to anything."

"Did Mr. Cornwood ever fall overboard, and Griffin save him?"

"Never in this world! He never sailed in the same vessel with him, except this one."

"Do you know Captain Parker Boomsby, Chloe?"

"Never heard of him before."

"You had better go to the cabin now. As long as you remain on board, I will see that you are protected," I said, rising from my stool, for it was about time for the pilot to come on deck.

"Thank you, Captain Garningham. I have told the ladies how I am situated, and they promise to help me all they can," replied Chloe, as she tripped lightly to the companion-way aft.

It appeared from the statement of the stewardess that Cornwood had been lying to me right along in regard to Griffin Leeds. He had no interest in him, except to have him on board to act as a spy and listener upon me. 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. We talked freely before Cobbington, who told us that Cornwood had offered him five dollars to be a witness in a case of assault he had not seen; but he would rather starve than commit a crime.



CHAPTER XXIV.

GREEN COVE SPRINGS AND GOVERNOR'S CREEK.

By the time we had finished our supper, the steamer was in sight of Green Cove Springs. Magnolia was abreast of us, and we had passed Hibernia; but nothing was in sight from either place except the hotels, where winter boarders from the North are domiciled, and at the former a few cottages. There were plenty of "crackers," or natives, in the country; but they did not appear to live on the banks of the river. The ladies were seated in the pilot-house, observing the scenery, which by this time had become a little monotonous, though the scene was always delightful, for we had only the varying breadth of the river, and the forest. Occasionally we saw a few old red cedars, whose fantastic forms excited attention for a time, with their trunks divided like an inverted V, near the surface of the water. The bluffs, when there were any, were covered with blackberry vines, all in blossom, so that they looked like snow banks in the distance.

"You must get up early in the morning, ladies, and take a bath in the warm water of the spring," suggested Mr. Cornwood as we approached the village, which had quite a number of houses, compared with any other place we had seen since we left Jacksonville.

Mrs. Shepard had heard of the spring, and was desirous of trying its waters. As we approached, we discovered a small steam-yacht anchored off an old wharf, nearly in front of the Union Hotel. It was a very pretty craft, very broad for her length, and evidently did not draw more than two feet of water, or perhaps three. Before we came up with her Cornwood had rung the speed-bell, and we were moving very slowly. He rang the gong when we were abreast of the yacht, and then gave two strokes of the bell to back her.

"Let go the anchor!" he shouted to the deckhands forward, for as the passengers were to remain on board all night, I thought it was better to be off in the stream than at the wharf.

The Sylvania brought up to her cable about half-way between the end of the long pier, where the steamers made their landings, and the little steam-yacht. It was almost dark when we anchored, and I could not obtain a very good view of the village. In the evening our musicians were called for. Then the absence of Griffin Leeds was regretted, as he played the violin; but Cobbington declared that he had played that instrument for years before he left home: only he had no fiddle. Fortunately, Landy Perkins, who played the violoncello, and was learning to play the violin, had one, and our orchestra was complete.

It was a beautiful, mild, and soft evening, and our party stayed on deck until eleven o'clock. I arranged an anchor-watch, so that two of the ship's company should be on deck all the time, one forward and the other aft, day and night. They were to allow no one to come on board, unless by permission of the captain or mate; and Washburn and I had agreed that one of us should remain on board all the time. Our passengers did not care to have strangers staring at them, and no one was willing that Griffin Leeds should put his feet on the deck of the Sylvania again.

Early in the morning the boats were dropped into the water, and put in proper condition for use. At six in the morning the steward called the passengers, as required by them, and a little later we landed them at some steps on the pier, near the shore, so that they had not far to walk. Mr. Cornwood and I remained on shore to assist the party. At the head of the wharf we found a store, a billiard-hall and a bar-room, and other evidences of civilization. A street on the right led to the Union Hotel and the Riverside Cottages, and one on the left to Orange Cottage, the two latter being large boarding-houses, which we found were occupied by people from the North.

Following the street from the wharf, we came to the Clarendon Hotel, the most pretentious establishment in the place. At the office of this house Cornwood obtained tickets for the baths. The spring and the bathing-houses are inclosed in a park, ornamented with live-oaks. We descended to the spring, around which a platform is built. The spring was similar to that we had seen at Orange Park, though there were no clouds of sand rising from the bottom of it. Though the water was eighteen feet deep, we could see to the bottom of the tunnel-shaped hole from which it issued. Its temperature was 76 deg., and it had a very strong odor of sulphur.

We all drank a dipper each of the water, which was perfectly transparent, and I thought it was not "bad to take" as a medicine. There is a bath for ladies, and another for gentlemen. Ours was a swimming-bath, about sixty feet long; and I must say that the water was perfectly delightful. I was told that the place was bad for consumptives, but the water was excellent for rheumatism, dyspepsia, and kidney complaints; but as I had none of them, I know nothing at all about its virtues. Colonel Shepard declared that he felt like a new man after the bath, and even the invalid Mrs. Shepard was as frisky as a young lamb. The bath was certainly a great luxury to all of us. We took a walk about the place, and found the village was very much like the rural part of Jacksonville. The gardens were crowded with orange-trees, and the mocking-birds filled the air with their melody.

In walking over to Orange Cottage we had to cross a bridge, about fifteen feet above the water, which was a stream flowing from the spring. It was the clearest water I had ever seen, and I have gazed into the crystal tide of Lake Superior, which has a great reputation for its purity. A boat was floating on the surface, and I saw great catfish swimming lazily out of the pool. Back of the village was the forest of pine, magnolia, and live-oak. We walked far enough to see the homes of some of the crackers, which were rude and primitive.

After breakfast we landed again, and followed "St. David's Path" to Magnolia. It was through the woods, on the bank of the river. "St. David," though he was not the original champion of Wales, had a very fine residence near the entrance to the wood. I believe he was canonized for the ink he made. Near the house we found some magnolia leaves that were nearly a foot long. The blue sand in the path was as hard as a rock, and it was strange that anything would grow in it.

The proprietor of Orange Park resented the idea, when some one called the soil nothing but blue sand; and taking up a handful of it, he rubbed it between his palms. The skin was considerably stained by the operation, which could not have been the case if the earth had been simply house-sand, as it is called in the North. We all knew that the finest oranges, bananas, lemons, sugar-cane, as well as strawberries and garden vegetables, grew out of it.

At the bridge which crosses Governor's Creek, on the other side of which is the Magnolia House, we found the boats, which had been ordered to be here. We all embarked, and ascended the creek. Our course was through water-weeds and tiger-lilies; but we soon came to clear water. An old mill stood by the shore.

"There is a friend of yours, Captain Garningham," said Cornwood, as he pointed to a log, one end of which was submerged in the creek.

On the log, coiled up, with his head in the middle and resting on one of the folds of his body, was a moccasin snake just like the one I had seen in the attic room of Captain Boomsby's house.

"Mercy!" exclaimed Miss Margie. "It is a snake! Let us get away from here!"

"Don't be alarmed, Miss Tiffany," interposed the guide. "He is fast asleep."

"But he may wake, and bite some of us," insisted Miss Margie.

"If he wakes, the first thing he will do will be to run away. It is a moccasin, and his bite is poisonous; but he can't bite in the water."

Cornwood picked up a boat-hook, but the snake was just out of his reach. The men backed the boat a little, and the guide just touched the tail of the reptile. This woke him, and without waiting to bid adieu to the party, he scurried up the log, and disappeared in the trees on the bank of the stream. Miss Margie was greatly relieved when he was gone. The oarsmen gave way again, but had not taken three strokes before one of them tipped over an alligator in the water. He was a little fellow, and made off with all his might, to the great amusement of the party. The men had not taken half a dozen strokes more, before another alligator was turned over by an oar. This was a larger one than the other, and his head was lifted entirely out of the water. At the same moment Cornwood, who was standing in the bow of the boat, aimed a revolver at him, and fired.

Miss Margie gave a little scream at the report of the pistol. The ball had evidently done its work, for the reptile was floundering on the top of the water, instead of running away, as the other one had done. The guide fired again; and after a little more struggling, the alligator lay still on the top of the water.

"We will tow him ashore and let you look at him, if you wish," said the guide.

"No, I thank you; not on my account," added Miss Margie.

"I should really like to see him," said Miss Edith.

"Then you shall see him," replied Owen.

But there was no shore in the vicinity to tow him to; and the guide suggested that he should be allowed to remain, while we followed the other boat to the head of boat navigation on the creek, which was only a short distance farther. The shore was under water, and the trees grew out of it. The guide said this was a specimen of a portion of the Ocklawaha, on a small scale. But we soon came to higher banks, which were covered with a fragrant blossom called the "swamp pink" in some parts of the North. The air was loaded with its perfume, and the young ladies were in ecstasies over the sweetness of the blossoms, and the beautiful appearance of the banks of the stream. Beyond this we found the shore covered with another blossom, the swamp blueberry. The bushes lined the shore, and were so covered with blossoms that they seemed to be all there was of them. The young ladies wanted to gather some, and the men filled every available place in the boat with these and the swamp pinks.

On our return we picked up the alligator, making a line fast to him, and towing him down to the bridge. We made a landing under the bluff, and hauled the reptile out of the water. He was about five feet long. Buck pried his mouth open, so that the ladies could see his teeth. Cornwood asked Miss Margie if she did not want a piece of him for her supper, declaring that he had eaten a portion of the tail, which he considered very good. The English maiden preferred beef and mutton.

We did not want the alligator, and we left him where he was. Cornwood said some native would take possession of him, and in two or three months his teeth would be for sale in the stores at Jacksonville. We were on board in time for dinner at one, the hour at which it had been ordered. In the afternoon I received a visit from the gentleman who was sailing the little steam-yacht near us. He was a New Yorker, spending the winter in Florida, and had his wife and daughter on board. I introduced him to our party, and showed him all over the Sylvania.



CHAPTER XXV.

ALLIGATOR SHOOTING ON BLACK CREEK.

After supper I returned the visit of Mr. Garbrook, the owner and captain of the little steam-yacht. She was a perfect beauty, and, small as she was, she had two state-rooms for the owner and his family, and a nice little cabin. The whole ship's company besides the owner, consisted of an engineer and a boy. Forward of the engine were a cook-room, a little cabin, and the pilot-house, the latter so small that only one person could occupy it at the same time.

"Who is the cook?" I asked, wondering how he managed to run the boat with only two hands.

"Sometimes the boy does the cooking, and sometimes I do it; but we don't live very high on board," said Mr. Garbrook, laughing. "We take most of our meals on shore when we are near a hotel."

"I think I should prefer a little more room," I added.

"So should I; but a steamer of your size draws too much water. I have an orange plantation back of Picolata; I have to run up Five-Mile Creek to reach it by water; and it is not deep enough for such a craft as I would like," added Mr. Garbrook.

"I was thinking of going up Black Creek to-morrow, to Middleburg; but I cannot find a pilot. I was going to ask your party to accompany us," continued the owner of the little steamer.

"I think I can furnish the pilot," I replied.

"Your steamer draws too much water for Black Creek, or I suppose you would run up to Middleburg in her. A great many parties make this excursion."

"I don't know that I ever heard of Black Creek before," I replied, wondering that Cornwood had not mentioned it.

Perhaps our guide did not know about Black Creek; and I pulled out of my pocket the "Suggestions" he had written out for the trip; but I could not find the name in it. If there was anything in Florida that Cornwood was not familiar with, I desired to know what it was. It would be a real enjoyment to me to find that he was not competent to pilot the little steam-yacht up Black Creek. I was instructed to invite all our party to the excursion, if I could bring a pilot for the occasion.

I returned to the Sylvania, and I thought I would invite the party before I said anything to the pilot. I gave them what information I had obtained in regard to Black Creek and Middleburg, and they were ready to accept the invitation. I found Cornwood on the forecastle, smoking his cigar, and opened the matter by informing him that the party were going up Black Creek the next day.

"But this boat draws too much water to go up to Middleburg," said the pilot, promptly. "She can't go half-way up there."

"But we are to go in that little steam-yacht," I added.

"That's another thing; I dare say she would go up if there was nothing but a little fog under her," laughed Cornwood.

"But we wish you to pilot her up the creek," I continued.

"I will do it with the greatest pleasure," he answered.

I was taken aback by this ready reply, for I had felt confident that I had found something the Floridian could not do.

"You did not mention Black Creek in the paper you wrote," I suggested.

"Neither did I mention Lake Griffin, because it would be impossible to get up there in a boat drawing eight feet of water," replied Cornwood.

The pilot was not to be caught. I sent word to Mr. Garbrook that our party would be happy to join his family in the excursion up Black Creek, and that I would furnish a pilot. I noticed considerable activity on board of the Gazelle, for that was the name of the steam-yacht, after I sent the message.

I had heard nothing of Griffin Leeds during the day. Though I had no doubt he was in Green Cove Springs, he made no attempt to come on board. I concluded that he intended to wait for a more favorable opportunity to recover possession of his wife; but I was determined that no such chance should be afforded to him.

At nine in the morning we went on board of the Gazelle, and she weighed anchor immediately. Cornwood took possession of the pilot-house, declaring that he had never been confined in a canary-bird's cage before. But he was good-natured about it, and when the boy had got up the anchor, Cornwood rang the bell to start the engine. Everything worked as regularly as though the little yacht had been a steamer of a thousand tons. The pilot ran the boat down the river about a mile below Magnolia, and then stood into an inlet, at the head of which we found the stream. It was a considerable river, but Cornwood seemed to be quite at home in it. It was a crooked stream, but the pilot ran from one side to the other, talking to me all the time with the utmost indifference.

I observed him for a couple of hours, until I was entirely satisfied that he knew what he was about, and then joined the party astern. It was seldom that a steamer disturbed the waters of Black Creek, never in these days, except when a party of curious excursionists desired to explore the lonely region. The Gazelle made about eight knots an hour, and at eleven o'clock we were fast to a dilapidated pier at the ruined town of Middleburg. It lay about half-way between the St. Johns and the Atlantic, Gulf and West India Company's Railroad, extending from Fernandina to Cedar Keys, on the Gulf of Mexico, intended as part of a quick route to Havana. The building of this railroad, by diverting from it the trade and transportation of a considerable region of country, had utterly ruined Middleburg, and it was as lone and deserted as Pompeii under the ashes of Vesuvius. Hardly a family was to be found in its abandoned houses.

A glance at the ruins was enough to satisfy the party, especially as Cornwood warned us not to enter the houses, or we should be covered with fleas. These pests are not uncommon in Florida. Green Cove Springs formerly had some, which were supposed to be scattered through the place by the pigs that ran at large. The evil was corrected by keeping them out of the village. The fleas were a vastly greater terror to the ladies than the alligators, of which there were a great many in the creek. Its quiet waters, not often disturbed by steamers, afforded them a peaceful retreat. Owen and Colonel Shepard had brought their guns with them, and had fired at some of the larger ones seen on the shore; but the saurians might have laughed at them, if they were given to expressing themselves in that manner. Cornwood smiled every time one of them fired.

We ran up the "North Prong" of the river a few miles. Under the shade of some spreading oaks we stopped for the lunch which our host had provided. It had been obtained at the hotels, and after our sail we were in condition to enjoy it. The alligators were larger and more plentiful, and while the Gazelle was at rest they were more disposed to show themselves on the sandy beach above us. Owen and the Colonel fired at them several times; but they seemed to take no notice of the shots, and the pilot laughed as usual.