FullReads

II

There was so long a pause, and Mrs. Todd still looked so absent-minded, that I was afraid she and the cat were growing drowsy together before the fire, and I should have no reminiscences at all. The wind struck the house again, so that we both started in our chairs and Mrs. Todd gave a curious, startled look at me. The cat lifted her head and listened too, in the silence that followed, while after the wind sank we were more conscious than ever of the awful roar of the sea. The house jarred now and then,
in a strange, disturbing way.

“Yes, they’ll have a beautiful evening out to the island,” said Mrs. Todd again; but she did not say it gayly. I had not seen her before in her weaker moments.

“Who was Mrs. Captain Tolland?” I asked eagerly, to change the current of our thoughts.

“I never knew her maiden name; if I ever heard it, I’ve gone an’ forgot; ‘twould mean nothing to me,” answered Mrs. Todd.

“She was a foreigner, an’ he met with her out in the Island o’ Jamaica. They said she’d been left a widow with property. Land knows what become of it; she was French born, an’ her first husband was a Portugee, or somethin’.”

I kept silence now, a poor and insufficient question being worse than none.

“Cap’n John Tolland was the least smartest of any of ’em, but he was full smart enough, an’ commanded a good brig at the time, in the sugar trade; he’d taken out a cargo o’ pine lumber to the islands from somewheres up the river, an’ had been headin’ for home in the port o’ Kingston, an’ had gone ashore that afternoon for his papers, an’ remained afterwards ‘long of three friends o’ his, all shipmasters. They was havin’ their suppers together in a tavern; ’twas late in the evenin’ an’ they was more lively than usual, an’ felt boyish; and over opposite was another house full o’ company, real bright and pleasant lookin’, with a lot o’ lights, an’ they heard somebody singin’ very pretty to a guitar. They wa’n’t in no go-to-meetin’ condition, an’ one of ’em, he slapped the table an’ said, ‘Le’ ‘s go over ‘n’ hear that lady sing!’ an’ over they all went, good honest sailors, but three sheets in the wind, and stepped in as if they was invited, an’ made their bows inside the door, an’ asked if they could hear the music; they were all respectable well-dressed men. They saw the woman that had the guitar, an’ there was a company a-listenin’, regular highbinders all of ’em; an’ there was a long table all spread out with big candlesticks like little trees o’ light, and a sight o’ glass an’ silverware; an’ part o’ the men was young officers in uniform, an’ the colored folks was steppin’ round servin’ ’em, an’ they had the lady singin’.’Twas a wasteful scene, an’ a loud talkin’ company, an’ though they was three sheets in the wind themselves there wa’n’t one o’ them cap’ns but had sense to perceive it. The others had pushed back their chairs, an’ their decanters an’ glasses was standin’ thick about, an’ they was teasin’ the one that was singin’ as if they’d just got her in to amuse ’em. But they quieted down; one o’ the young officers had beautiful manners, an’ invited the four cap’ns to join ’em, very polite; ’twas a kind of public house, and after they’d all heard another song, he come to consult with ’em whether they wouldn’t git up and dance a hornpipe or somethin’ to the lady’s music.