Now the brass bands blared with a sudden overwhelming blast of sound,
the crowd cheered noisily; the runners for the hotels began to bark
like a pack of dogs. With a vast turmoil of paddle wheels, swirling of
white and green waters, bellowing of speaking trumpets, throwing of
handlines and scurrying of deck hands and dock hands, the _Panama_ came
to rest. After considerable delay the gangplank was placed. The
passengers began to disembark, facing the din much as they would have
faced the buffeting of a strong wind. This was the cream of the
entertainment for which the crowd had gathered; for which, indeed, the
Sherwoods had made their excursion. Each individual received his meed
of comment, sometimes audible and by no means always flattering.
Certainly in variety both of character and of circumstance they offered
plenty of material. From wild, half-civilized denizens of Louisiana's
canebrakes, clinging closely to their little bundles and their long
rifles, to the most polished exquisites of fashion they offered all
grades and intermediates. Some of them looked rather bewildered. Some
seemed to know just what to do and where to go. Most dove into the
crowd with the apparent idea of losing their identity as soon as
possible. The three magnificent hacks were filled, and managed, with
much plunging and excitement, to plow a way through the crowd and so
depart. Amusing things happened to which the Sherwoods called each
other's attention. Thus a man, burdened with a single valise, ducked
under the ropes near them. A paper boy happened to be standing near.
The passenger offered the boy a fifty-cent piece.
"Here, boy," said he, "just carry this valise for me."
The paper boy gravely contemplated the fifty cents, dove into his
pocket, and produced another.
"Here, man," said he, handing them both to the traveller, "take this
and carry it yourself."
One by one the omnibuses filled and departed. The stream of passengers
down the gangplank had ceased. The crowd began to thin. Sherwood
gathered his reins to go. Mrs. Sherwood suddenly laid her hand on his
forearm.
"Oh, the poor thing!" she cried, her voice thrilling with compassion.
A young man and a steward were supporting a girl down the gangplank.
Evidently she was very weak and ill. Her face was chalky white, with
dark rings under the eyes, her lips were pale, and she leaned heavily
on the men. Although she could not have heard Mrs. Sherwood's
exclamation of pity, she happened to look up at that instant, revealing
a pair of large, dark, and appealing eyes. Her figure, too, dressed in
a plain travelling dress, strikingly simple but bearing the
unmistakable mark of distinction, was appealing; as were her exquisite,
smooth baby skin and the downward drooping, almost childlike, curves of
her lips. The inequalities of the ribbed gangplank were sufficient to
cause her to stumble.
"She is very weak," commented Mrs. Sherwood.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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