For a moment, there he sat, and did nothing more.The pole broke loose from the carriage, the traces parted, and the two big white horses, still kicking and plunging, struggled to their feet and free from the wreckage.Still side by side they leaped the port bulwark, splashed into the canal, and swam straight across it, as if animated with the instinct of going straight ahead in that fashion to the end of the world.Cleggett never saw or heard of them again.
"Bring a lantern," said Cleggett to Abernethy."Let's see if this man is badly hurt."But the negro was not injured.He rose to his feet as the Captain brought the light--the storm was now subsiding, and the lightning was less frequent--and stood revealed as a person of surprising size and unusual blackness.He was, in fact, so black that it was no wonder that Cleggett had not seen him on the seat of the carriage, for unless one turned a light full upon him his face could not be seen at all after dark.He was in a blue livery, and his high, cockaded coachman's hat had stayed on his head in spite of everything.
Even sitting down on the deck he had possessed an air of patience.When he arose and the Captain flashed the light upon his face, it revealed a countenance full of dignified good humor.
"Where did you come from?" asked Cleggett.
The negro removed the hat with the cockade before answering.He did it politely.Even ceremoniously.But he did not do it hastily.He had the air of one who was never inclined to do things hastily.
"From Newahk, sah," he said."Newahk, New Jehsey, sah." "But who are you?" said Cleggett."How did you get here?" The negro was gazing reflectively at the broken carriage.
"Ah yo' Mistah Cleggett, sah? Mistah Clement J.Cleggett, sah, the ownah of dis hyeah boat?""Yes."
The negro fumbled in an inner pocket and produced a card.He gave it to Cleggett with a deferential bow, and then announced sonorously:
"Miss Genevieve Pringle, sah--in de cah-age, sah--a callin' on Mistah Clement J.Cleggett."He completed the announcement with a dignified and courtly gesture, which seemed to indicate that he was presenting the ruined carriage itself to Cleggett.
"You don't mean in that carriage?" cried Cleggett.
"Yes, sah," said the negro."Leas'ways, she was, sah, some time back.Mah time an' mah 'tention done been so tooken up wif dem incompatible hosses fo' some moments past, sah, dat I cain't say fo' suah ef she adheahed, or ef she didn't adheah."He glanced speculatively at the carriage again.Cleggett sprang towards the broken vehicle, expecting to find someone seriously injured at the very least.But, from the ruin, a precise and high-pitched feminine voice piped out:
"Jefferson!Kindly assist me to disentangle myself!""Yassum," said the negro, moving forward in a leisurely and dignified manner, "comin', ma'am.I hopes an' trusts, Miss Pringle, ma'am, yo' ain't suffered none in yo' anatomy an' phlebotomy from dis hyeah runaway."With which cheerful wish Jefferson lifted respectfully, and with a certain calm detachment, the figure of a woman from the debris.
"Thank you, Jefferson," she said."I fear I am very much bruised and shaken, but I have been feeling all my bones while lying there, and I believe that I have sustained no fractures."Miss Pringle was a woman of about fifty, small and prim.Prim withan unconquerable primness that neither storm nor battle nor accident could shake.If she had been killed in the runaway she would have looked prim in death while awaiting the undertaker.She must have been wet almost to those unfractured bones which she had been feeling; her black silk dress, with its white ruching about the neck, was torn and bedraggled; her black hat, with its jet ornaments, was crushed and hung askew over one ear; nevertheless, Miss Pringle conveyed at once and definitely an impression of unassailable respectability and strong character.
"Which of you is Mr.Cleggett?" she asked, looking about her, in the lantern light, at the crew of the Jasper B., as she leaned upon the arm of Jefferson, her mannerly and deliberate servitor.
"I am Mr.Cleggett."
"Ah!" Miss Pringle inspected him with an eye which gleamed with a hint of latent possibilities of belligerency."Mr.Cleggett," she continued, pursing her lips, "I have sought an interview to warn you that you are harboring an impostor on your ship."At that moment Lady Agatha joined the group.As the light fell upon her Miss Pringle stepped forward and thrust an accusing, a denunciatory finger at the Englishwoman.
"You," she said, "call yourself Lady Agatha Fairhaven!" "I do," said Lady Agatha.
"Woman!" cried Miss Pringle, shaking with the stress of her moral wrath."Where are my plum preserves?"And with this cryptic utterance the little lady, having come to the end of her strength, primly fainted.
Jefferson picked her up and carried her, in a serene and stately manner, to the cabin.
