"Doubt the stars are fire—
Doubt the sun doth move—
Doubt truth to be a liar,
But never doubt I love."
—HAMLET.
In all the ardor of his momentary excitement, Mr. Toosypegs got astride of a serious-looking pony, a family relation of the admiral's favorite nag, Ringbone, and set out at a shuffling gallop for Heath Hill. Mr. Toosypegs did not look quite so pretty on horseback as some people might suppose: for he went jigging up and down with every motion of his steed, and being remarkably long in the legs, his feet were never more than a few inches from the ground; so that altogether, he was not the most dashing rider you would have selected to lead a charge of cavalry. But Mr. Toosypegs was not thinking of his looks just then, but of a far more important subject—trying to screw his courage to the sticking-point. The further he went, the faster his new-found courage began oozing away. As the White Squall receded, so did his daring determination; and as the full extent of the mission he was on burst out on him, a cold perspiration slowly burst out on his face, despite the warmth of the day.
"Good gracious! it's going to be awful; I know it is!" exclaimed Mr. Toosypegs, wiping his face with the cuff of his coat. "And how I'm ever going to get through with it, I'm sure I don't know. I wish to goodness I had never said nothing about it! If only knew any man that's in the habit of proposing, he could tell me how they do it, and then I wouldn't mind. But now—by granny! I've a good mind to turn, and go right back to Dismal Hollow. But then, the admiral—what will he say? Well, I don't care what he says. How would he like to go and pop the question himself, I wonder? By gracious! I will go back. It's no use thinking about it; for I'd sooner be chawed alive by rattlesnakes, and then kicked to death by grasshoppers, than go and tell Miss Pet the way I feel. I couldn't tell her the way I feel; it's the most peculiar sensation ever was. And them black eyes of hers! Land of hope and blessed promise! the way they do go right through a fellow's vest-pattern! How in the world so many men can manage to get married is more than I know; for I'd sooner march up to the muzzle of a pistol while Old Nick held the trigger, than go and do it! Whoa, Charlie! Turn round. I'm going home to Dismal Hollow!"
Whir, whir, whir! came something, with lightning-like rapidity, over the soft heath. Mr. Toosypegs turned round; and there came Miss Pet herself, flying along like the wind, on her fleet Arabian, her cheeks crimson, her splendid eyes blazing, her red lips smiling; her short, jetty curls flying in the wind she herself raised; her long, raven-black plume just touching her scarlet cheeks; the red rings of flame flashing out in the sunlight from her dazzling eyes and hair. She was bewildering, dazzling, blinding! Mr. Toosypegs had his breath completely taken away as his heart had long since been, and in that moment fell more deeply, deplorably, and helplessly in love than ever. Every idea was instantaneously put to flight by this little dark, bright bird-of-paradise—this blinding little grenade, all fire, and jets, and sparkles.
"Halloa, Orlando! Your very humble servant!" shouted Pet, as she laughingly dashed up, touching her hat gallantly to the gentleman. "How does your imperial highness find yourself this glorious day?"
"A—pretty miserable, thank you. A—I mean I ain't very well, Miss Pet," said Mr. Toosypegs, stammering, and breaking down.
"Not very well, eh? Why, what's the matter? Not cholera-morbus, or measles or a galloping-decline, or anything—is it?" said Pet, in a tone of deepest anxiety. "The gods forbid anything should happen to you, Orlando, for the sake of all Judestown girls whose hearts you have broken! You do look sort of blue—a prey to 'green and yellow melancholy,' I shouldn't wonder! Make Miss Priscilla apply a mustard-poultice when you get home—it doesn't matter where—and go to bed with your feet in a tub of hot water, and I'll bet you anything you'll be as well as ever, if not considerably better, in the morning. I'm going to take in nursing some of these days, and ought to know!"
"Miss Pet, it's real good of you to advise me, and I'm very much obliged to you," said Mr. Toosypegs, gratefully; "but, at the same time, I don't believe mustard-poultices and tubs of hot water would do me the first mite of good. No, Miss Pet, not all the hot water in all the hot springs that ever was, could do me the least good," said Mr. Toosypegs, firmly. "I'm in that state that nothing can do me any good—no, no, nothing!" repeated Mr. Toosypegs, with increased firmness. "It's all internal, you see, Miss Pet."
"Oh! is it?" said Pet, puckering up her mouth as if she was going to whistle. "You ought to take something, then, and drive it out! Hot gin, or burnt brandy and cayenne is good—excessively good—though not so nice to take as some things I've tasted. Just you take a pint or so of hot burnt brandy and cayenne to-night, before going to bed, and you'll see it will be all out in a severe rash early to-morrow morning. I'm advising you for your good, Orlando; for I feel like a mother to you—in fact, I feel a motherly interest in all the nice young men in Judestown and the surrounding country generally, for any extent you please, and am always ready to give them no end of good advice, if they only take it."
"It's real good of you, Miss Pet I'm sure," said Mr. Toosypegs, wincing, as the very thought of the hot brandy and cayenne brought tears to his eyes, "and I would be real glad to take your advice, and brandy, only what ails me can't be brought out in a rash. No, Miss Pet, all the brandy from here to Brandywine," said Mr. Toosypegs—with a hazy idea that all ardent spirits came from that place—"couldn't do it. It's real good of you, though, to recommend it; and I'm very much obliged to you, I'm sure."
"Well, really, I'm afraid I'll have to give the case up, though I hate to do it. What's the symptoms, Orlando?"
"The what, Miss Pet?"
"The symptoms, you know—I don't exactly understand the word myself; and I forgot my dictionary when I was coming away. It means, though, the feelings or something that way—how do you feel as a general thing?"
"Well, I can't say I feel very well," said Mr. Toosypegs, mournfully. "I'm sort of restless, and can't sleep of nights!"
"Ah! that's owing to the musketoes!" said Pet. "That ain't dangerous. Go on."
"No, Miss Pet, it's not the musketoes; it's my feelings," said Mr. Toosypegs, with increased mournfulness. "I've lost my appetite!"
"Well, I'm sure I don't wonder at that, either," again interrupted Pet. "Miss Priscilla half-starves you over there—I know she does. Just you come over and dine with us two or three times a week, at Heath Hill, and you'll be astonished slightly at the way you'll find your appetite again. Oh, I don't despair of you at all!"
"Miss Pet," burst out Mr. Toosypegs, in a sort of desperation, "it's very good of you to ask me, and I'm very much obliged to you; but you don't understand my feelings at all. It's an unfortunate attachment—"
"An attachment?" exclaimed Pet. "Whew! that is bad. Why, Orlando, I didn't think you owed anybody anything. When was this attachment issued against you?"
"Oh, Miss Pet! can't you understand? My gracious! that ain't the sort of attachment I mean at all. It's not legal—"
"Then it's illegal," said Miss Pet, with a profoundly-shocked expression of countenance. "Why, Mr. Toosypegs, where do you expect to go to? I never expected to have any such confession from your lips. An illegal attachment! Mr. Toosypegs, the community generally look upon you as a highly exemplary young man, but I feel it my painful duty to announce to them immediately how they have been deceived. An illegal attachment! Oh, my stars and garters! Excuse me, Mr. Toosypegs, but after such a highly improper confession, I must bid you good-morning. No young and unsuspecting female like me can be seen with propriety in your company for the future. I am very sorry, Mr. Toosypegs, and I should never have suspected you of such shocking conduct had you not confessed it yourself." And Pet drew herself up, and put on that severely moral expression only seen on the faces of school-mistresses and committeemen when lecturing young ideas on the proper way to shoot.
"Good gracious!" exclaimed Mr. Toosypegs, in a distracted tone, nearly driven out of his senses by this harangue. "Oh, land of hope! was a fellow that never done nothing to nobody ever talked to like this before? By granny! it's enough to make a fellow get as mad as anything; so it is! Why, Miss Pet, I haven't done anything improper—I wouldn't for any price; upon my word and honor, I wouldn't. I've fell in love with—a—with—a young lady, and I don't see where's the harm of it. It's unkind of you, Miss Pet, to speak so, and I don't see what I've ever done to deserve it. You mean real well, I'm sure, but it makes a fellow feel bad to be talked to in this way all the time," said Mr. Toosypegs, with a stifled whimper.
"Well, there, don't cry, Orlando," said Pet, soothingly, "and I won't say another word. What young lady have you had the misfortune to fall in love with?"
"Miss Pet, excuse me, but I—I'd rather not tell, if it's all the same," replied Mr. Toosypegs, blushing deeply.
"Oh, fool! tell me, as a friend, you know. Won't ever mention it again, so help me! Do I know her?"
"Ye—yes, Miss Pet, slightly."
"Hem! It isn't Annie Grove?"
"No, Miss Pet—why, she's forty years old, if she's a day," said Mr. Toosypegs, indignantly.
"Yes, I know—twenty-five, she says; but she's been that as far back as the oldest inhabitant can remember. Well, then, Jessie Masters?"
"Miss Pet, allow me to say I ain't in the habit of falling in love with women with wooden legs," said the young gentleman, with dignity.
"Well, I didn't know; it's cheaper, in shoe-leather, especially. Hem-m-m! Perhaps it's Mrs. Jenkins?"
"Mrs. Jenkins! a widow! No, Miss Pet, it ain't. I should think you might know I don't like second-hand women," said Mr. Toosypegs, as near being indignant as he ever was in his life.
"Well, who the mischief can it be then! It must be Huldah Rice."
"A little stout thing, with—with a hump, and cross-eyes? Miss Pet, it ain't!" exclaimed Mr. Toosypegs, with tears of vexation in his eyes.
"Not her, either? then I give up. Who is it, Orlando?"
"Miss Pet, I don't like to tell—you'll laugh at me," said Mr. Toosypegs, blushing deeply.
"Laugh! No, I won't; honor bright! I'll look as grim as a death's-head and cross-bones! Now then, out with it!"
"Miss Pet, it's—it's—"
"Yes—well?"
"It's—"
"Well?"
"It's you," fairly shouted Mr. Toosypegs, driven to desperation by her perseverance.
"Me! O ye gods and goddesses, without skirts or bodices! Me! Great Jehosaphat! I'll know what it feels like to be unexpectedly struck by a cannon-ball, after this! Me! Well, I never!"
"Miss Pet, I knew you would laugh; I knew it all along, and I told him so this morning," said Mr. Toosypegs, with a sniffle; "you mean well, I dare say, but it don't seem kind at all."
"Laugh!" exclaimed Pet; "come, I like that, and my face as long as an undertaker's! You may take a microscope and look from this until the week after next, and then you won't discover the ghost of a smile on my countenance. Laugh, indeed! I'm above such a weakness, I hope," said Pet, with ineffable contempt.
"Then, Miss Pet, perhaps you will have me," said Mr. Toosypegs, with sudden hope. "Miss Pet, I can't begin to tell you the way I love you; you can't have any idea of it; it goes right through and through me. I think of you all day, and I dream about you all night. I'm in the most dreadful way about you, ever was. Miss Pet, I'd do anything you told me to. I'd go and drown myself if you wanted me to, or shoot myself, or take ratsbane, and rather like it than otherwise, if you'll only have me, Miss Pet—"
"Orlando, I'm very sorry; but—I can't."
"Miss Pet, you don't mean it; you can't mean it, surely. I know I ain't so good-looking as some," said Mr. Toosypegs, in a melancholy tone; "but I can get something to take the freckles off, and I expect to fatten out a little by-and-by, so—"
"Now, don't go to any such trouble for me," said Pet, with difficulty keeping from laughing at his mildly-anguished look. "I don't mind the freckles at all; I rather like them, in fact; they vary the monotony of the complexion, just as oases do in the deserts we read of; and as for being thin—well, I'm rather on the hatchet-pattern myself, you know. But you must quit thinking about me, Orlando, because I'm only a wild little Tomboy, that everybody gets furious about, and I never intend to get married at all—that is, unless—well, never mind."
"Miss Pet, if you only knew how badly in love I am."
"Oh, you only think so; you'll forget me in a week!"
"I'll never forget you, Miss Pet, never—not even if I was to be taken out of this world altogether, and sent up to New Jersey. It's awful to think you won't have me—it really is," said Mr. Toosypegs, in great mental distress.
"Well, I'm sorry, Orlando, but I can't help it, you know. Now be a good boy for my sake, and try to forget me—won't you?" asked Pet, coaxingly.
"I'll try to, Miss Pet, since you wish it," said poor Mr. Toosypegs, with tears in his eyes; "but it's blamed hard. I wish to gracious I had never been born—I just do! I don't see where is the good of it at all."
"Oh, now, Orlando, you mustn't feel bad about it, because it won't amount to anything," said Pet, in a consoling tone; "don't let us talk any more about it. Guess what I heard last night over at Judestown."
"I'm sure I don't know, Miss Pet," said Mr. Toosypegs, giving his eyes and nose a vigorous wiping with his handkerchief.
"Well, then, that the gang of smugglers who have been for so long a time suspected of having a rendezvous around the coast somewhere, have been seen at last. Two or three of them were observed pulling off in a boat, the other night, and going on board a dark, suspicious-looking schooner, anchored down the bay. They are known to have a hiding-place somewhere around here, but the good folks of Judestown can't discover it, and consequently are in a state of mind at having such desperadoes near them. I am going to hunt all over the shore far and near myself, this very day, and see if my eyes are not sharper than those of the Judestown officials. Oh, I would love, of all things, to discover their hiding-place; perhaps my smartness wouldn't astonish the natives slightly."
"But, good gracious, Miss Pet! if they get hold of you," said Mr. Toosypegs, his blood running chill with horror at the very idea; "why, it would be awful."
"If they did," said Pet, "they would find, as others have done, to their cost, before now, that they had caught a Tartar; a snap-dragon; a pepper-pod; an angel in petticoats! Oh, they'd have their hands full, in every sense of the word. I'm bound to go on my exploring expedition this afternoon, wind and weather permitting, anyway, and see what will be the result. Where are you going, may I ask?"
"To Dismal Hollow, or—no, I've got to go to the White Squall, first."
"Very well; I won't detain you, then. I'm off to Judestown—good-by; remember me to uncle Harry."
And giving her jaunty, plumed hat another gallant touch, Firefly dashed off, leaving Mr. Toosypegs gazing dejectedly after her until the last flutter of her dark riding-habit vanished amid the trees; and then he slowly and mournfully turned his solemn-faced nag in the direction of the White Squall, to tell the admiral the unsatisfactory result of his proposal.