t to the devil. No, I
tell you my heart is so full, it feels as if it would burst. She won't
hear of me. I will tell you all about it, boys--but who is that?"
interrupted he, pointing to Vergennes, who was standing near us, and
looking on in great wonderment. "Ah, Monshur Tonson! happy to see you,
Monshur Tonson! Parleh vouh English? Prenez un seat, et un glass de
Madeira. Nous parlerons hansamble le Franseh. Neger, a bottle of
Madeira; and let it be good, or you'll get the bottle across your
crooked shins. A bottle of Irish for me, d'ye hear, real Irish whisky,
or if you haven't any, Scotch will do. No, boys, I tell you I am a
gone man. Dismissed, sent away, packed off with a flea in my ear, as
they say."

And so saying, he threw himself on a sofa with a violence that made it
crack again; the steward brought the Madeira and the whisky, and we
drew round the table to condole with the love-stricken Kentuckian. A
few minutes passed in the composition of the toddy, which was
evidently destined to play the chief part in the way of a consoler;
and when Doughby had got a large beer-glass of the comfortable mixture
before him, he began his narrative.

CHAPTER II

THE RACE.

"I will tell you how it all happened, and how it was that Miss
Lambton--in short you shall hear it all--it's the first time I have
spoken about it, but now it shall out; you shall judge and decide
between us, by Jove you shall! You recollect it was in the beginning
of June that we left your house, Richards, to go up the
Mississippi--it was a Friday, a day that I hate. All seamen and
hunters do hate it; it's an unlucky day. All the bad luck I ever had,
came to me on Fridays. I had a feeling that something would go wrong
when we went on board the Helen M'Gregor. I thought Miss Lambton
looked shy upon me, and the old gentleman stiffer than ever. I
followed the Miss, however, wherever she went, so close, that once or
twice I trod the fringe off her petticoats."

"That was bad manners, Doughby."

"Pshaw! What did it matter? I told her not to bother her head about
it, that when we got to New York, or even to Cincinnati or Louisville,
I would buy her a whole shopful of dresses. She made no answer to
that; but when I had the misfortune to tear her third flounce, she
said, that if I went on in that way she would not have a whole gown
left when she got to Louisville. 'With a whole one or none at all,
Miss,' said I, 'you'll always be a charming creature.' T