"I don't tink noffin bout it--I nose it. What make him dream bout de
goole so much, if taint cause he bit by de goole-bug? Ise heerd bout dem
goole-bugs fore dis."
"But how do you know he dreams about gold?"
"How I know? why, cause he talk bout it in he sleep, dat's how I nose."
"Well, Jup, perhaps you are right; but to what fortunate circumstance am
I to attribute the honor of a visit from you to-day?"
"What de matter, massa?"
"Did you bring any message from Mr. Legrand?"
"No, massa, I bring dis here pissel;" and here Jupiter handed me a note
which ran thus:--
"MY DEAR ----
Why have I not seen you for so long a time? I hope you have not been so
foolish as to take offence at any little _brusquerie_ of mine; but no,
that is improbable.
Since I saw you I have had great cause for anxiety. I have something to
tell you, yet scarcely know how to tell it, or whether I should tell it
at all.
I have not been quite well for some days past, and poor old Jup annoys
me, almost beyond endurance, by his well-meant attentions. Would you
believe it?--he had prepared a huge stick, the other day, with which to
chastise me for giving him the slip, and spending the day, _solus_,
among the hills on the main land. I verily believe that my ill looks
alone saved me a flogging.
I have made no addition to my cabinet since we met.
If you can, in any way, make it convenient, come over with Jupiter. _Do_
come. I wish to see you _to-night_, upon business of importance. I
assure you that it is of the _highest_ importance.
Ever yours,
WILLIAM LEGRAND."
There was something in the tone of this note which gave me great
uneasiness. Its whole style differed materially from that of Legrand.
What could he be dreaming of? What new crotchet possessed his excitable
brain? What "business of the highest importance" could _he_ possibly
have to transact? Jupiter's account of him boded no good. I dreaded lest
the continued pressure of misfortune had, at length, fairly unsettled
the reason of my friend. Without a moment's hesitation, therefore, I
prepared to accompany the negro.
Upon reaching the wharf, I noticed a scythe and three spades, all
apparently new, lying in the bottom of the boat in which we were to
embark.
"What is the meaning of all this, Jup?" I inquired.
"Him syfe, massa, and spade."
"Very true; but what are they doing here?"
"Him de syfe and de spade what Massa Will sis pon my buying for him in
de town, and de debbil's own lot of money I had to gib for em."
"But what, in the name of all that is mysterious, is your 'Massa Will'
going to do with scythes and spades?"
"Dat's more dan _I_ know, and debbil take me if I don't believe 'tis
more dan he know, too. But it's all cum ob de bug."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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