brow and cheerful eye, and burst out into expressions of gratitude to Providence and to me, although for what I could not easily make out.
“Strayinger!” at length he exclaimed, “guess you was puzzled—guess you didn’t think there was 16,000 dollars (3200l. sterling) in them parcels, in 100 dollar notes.”
I certainly should not have supposed it; and beginning to get a glimmering of the state of the case, observed with a smile, grim enough, I dare say, that I was surprised he should have placed a bowie-knife in the hand of a stranger like myself, when exposing so much money to view.
“What,” said I, “if I had clutched the parcel you desired me to detach from your waistcoat, and returned your bowie-knife into your heart instead of your hand!”
“I had no fear of that,” he replied. “From the moment I saw you at Newburg, I saw by your face you was an honest man.”
“Most devoutly do I wish I could have seen the same by yours,” I cried out; “it would have saved me many an hour of wretchedness!”
We now entered upon an explanation. He called for some refreshment, and told me his story. It was briefly this:
His name, as I now learnt for the first time, was Peter Richards. Commencing life by opening a country store in a neighbouring county, he had been a prosperous man. Combining, like many Americans in country places, half-a-dozen different occupations—storekeeper, tanner, farmer, grist and saw miller—he at length, a year or two before I met him, purchased in partnership with a friend, from the Government of Pennsylvania, the right of cutting timber, or lumbering, over a vast tract of wild land in the northern part of that State. His partner had the immediate supervision of the lumberers, and resided on the spot. My companion’s own home was in the State of New York, which we had re-entered that morning, and not above twenty miles from where we then were; and it was his practice four times a year to visit the lumber district, carrying with him the pay earned by the numerous hands employed by the firm during the preceding quarter. He then proceeded to the maritime towns to which the timber was floated down, and having obtained payment for it from the purchasers, returned to his home in western New York, bringing with him a sufficient sum of money for the next quarter’s payment of the lumber-gangs, which he lodged in the bank I had seen him enter that day; until, after a few weeks’ rest at home, he should again set out on his quarterly round. He added, that on the afternoon on which we had met at Newburg, he had received a mysterious hint that he was known to travel with large sums of money, and that he might be waylaid, and perhaps murdered. Being naturally a fearless man, he resolved to proceed; and on seeing me had conceived the idea of making me his companion by the way, as a guard against nightly surprise—for he was a very sound sleeper—and as a help in case of attack. This explained his determination to have me always beside him at night. He accounted for his private conversation in the stable-yard with the driver who was to have taken us to Great-Bend, by saying that he had recognised in him the son of a neighbour of his, a wild youth, who had run away from his home, and to whom he embraced the opportunity of giving some information about his relatives, and some good advice. He had been glad of the excuse afforded by the snow storm for avoiding Great-Bend, near which he said he was most apprehensive of an attack; and the fall of snow had enabled him to travel by cross-paths, impassible except by sleighing, faster than if he had proceeded by the stage to Great-Bend. This was a matter of great importance to him, for he had that morning suddenly recollected, that a large bill, to the taking-up of which a portion of the money he carried was destined, would fall due at the bank that day; and he had never, he said, in all his life failed to meet at the proper time a commercial obligation. His questions as to arms, and his observations on boxing, were prompted by a desire to know the value of my aid if he should be attacked; and his allusion to travelling with money had naturally grown out of his own apprehensions. His taking out of the bowie-knife, which had caused me such alarm, he accounted for by saying that in his fear of not reaching the bank in time, he had thought for a moment of proceeding while in the sleigh, as we were flying along the short cut which at his request the driver had taken, to rip up his secret repositories, so as to be ready to drive at once to the bank on reaching Binghampton, with the money in his hand. He laughed heartily when told of the terror he had occasioned me in springing back to his seat.
All was now explained. The man I had dreaded was as fearful as myself; and had been relying on me for the protection of his life, while I thought he was thirsting for mine! I breathed more freely than I had done for the last three days.
By this time the stage, which we had outstripped by crossing the country, had arrived from Great-Bend, and I was to proceed by it on my journey; my companion’s route homeward lying in a different direction. He expressed very great regret for the misery he had caused me, and pressed me to accompany him to his home, and to accept of his hospitality for some days. But my engagements would not allow me to do so. And to tell the truth, although I had, of course, entirely changed my opinion of the man, and saw before we parted that he was well-known and esteemed at Binghampton, I could not all at once change the feelings with which for some days and nights I had regarded him. I was glad to separate from him. I gave a shudder of dread, or quiver of delight, I know not which to call it, as I shook hands with him; and often, for months thereafter, my sleep was haunted by visions of his tall form and mysterious countenance, his green blanket coat, and bowie-knife. If Peter Richards is still alive (and if so he cannot be very much above sixty), his eye may light on this narrative; and if he should think some portions of it too highly coloured, he will own that the revenge is slight for the misery I endured while serving as his unconscious body-guard through the wilds of the Susquehanna.
