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"Next year," said the old man. "I've got it all arranged. My friends are to blow up the capitol, and I shall ride into Was.h.i.+ngton on a white horse. Do you want an office?"
"I don't know but I should like one," said Harry, amused.
"I'll see what I can do for you," said the old man, seriously. "I can't put you in my Cabinet. That's all arranged. If you would like to be Minister to England or to France, you can go."
"I should like to go to France. Benjamin Franklin was Minister to France."
"Do you know him?"
"No; but I have read his life."
"I'll put your name down in my book. What is it?"
"Harry Walton."
The old man went to the table, on which was a common account book. He took a pen, and, with a serious look, made this entry:
"I promise to make Harry Walton Minister to France, as soon as I take my place in the White House.
"GENERAL ANDREW JACKSON"
"It's all right now," he said.
"Thank you, general. You are very kind," said our hero.
"Were you ever a soldier?" asked his host.
"I never was."
"I thought you might have been in the battle of New Orleans. Our men fought splendidly, sir."
"I have no doubt of it."
"You'll read all about it in history. We fought behind cotton bales. It was glorious!"
"General," said Harry, "if you'll excuse me, I'll take out my supper from this bundle."
"No, no," said the old man; "you must take supper with me."
"I wonder whether he has anything fit to eat," thought Harry. "Thank you," he said aloud. "If you wish it."
The old man had arisen, and, taking a teakettle, suspended it over the fire. A monomaniac though he was on the subject of his ident.i.ty with General Jackson, he knew how to make tea. Presently he took from the cupboard a baker's roll and some cold meat, and when the tea was ready, invited Harry to be seated at the table. Our hero did so willingly. He had lost his apprehensions, perceiving that his companion's lunacy was of a very harmless character.
"What if mother could see me now!" he thought.
Still the rain poured down. It showed no signs of slackening. He saw that it would be necessary to remain where he was through the night.
"General, can you accommodate me till morning?" he asked.
"Certainly," said the old man. "I shall be glad to have you stay here.
Do you go to France to-morrow?"
"I have not received my appointment yet."
"True, true; but it won't be long. I will write your instructions to-night."
"Very well."
The supper was plain enough, but it was relished by our young traveler, whose long walk had stimulated a naturally good appet.i.te.
"Eat heartily, my son," said the old man. "A long journey is before you."
After the meal was over, the old man began to write.
Harry surmised that it was his instructions. He paid little heed, but fixed his eyes upon the fire, listening to the rain that continued to beat against the window panes, and began to speculate about the future.
Was he to be successful or not? He was not without solicitude, but he felt no small measure of hope. At nine o'clock he began to feel drowsy, and intimated as much to his host. The old man conducted him to an upper chamber, where there was a bed upon the floor.
"You can sleep there," he said.
"Where do you sleep?" asked Harry.
"Down below; but I shall not go to bed till late. I must get ready your instructions."
"Very well," said Harry. "Good night."
"Good night."
"I am glad he is not in the room with me," thought Harry. "I don't think there is any danger, but it isn't comfortable to be too near a crazy man."
CHAPTER XI. IN SEARCH OF WORK
When Harry awoke the next morning, after a sound and refres.h.i.+ng sleep, the sun was s.h.i.+ning brightly in at the window. He rubbed his eyes, and stared about him, not at first remembering where he was. But almost immediately recollection came to his aid, and he smiled as he thought of the eccentric old man whose guest he was. He leaped out of bed, and quickly dressing himself, went downstairs. The fire was burning, and breakfast was already on the table. It was precisely similar to the supper of the night previous. The old man sat at the fireside smoking a pipe.
"Good morning, general," said Harry. "I am up late."
"It is no matter. You have a long journey before you, and it is well to rest before starting."
"Where does he think I am going?" thought our hero.
"Breakfast is ready," said the old man, hospitably. "I can't entertain you now as I could have done when I was President. You must come and see me at the White House next year."
"I should like to."