The Short-story Part 5

"A death's-head!" echoed Legrand. "Oh--yes--well, it has something of that appearance upon paper, no doubt. The two upper black spots look like eyes, eh? and the longer one at the bottom like a mouth--and then the shape of the whole is oval."

"Perhaps so," said I; "but, Legrand, I fear you are no artist. I must wait until I see the beetle itself, if I am to form any idea of its personal appearance."

"Well, I don't know," said he, a little nettled, "I draw tolerably--_should_ do it at least, have had good masters--and flatter myself that I am not quite a blockhead."

"But, my dear fellow, you are joking then," said I; "this is a very pa.s.sable _skull_--indeed, I may say that it is a very _excellent_ skull, according to the vulgar notions about such specimens of physiology--and your _scarabaeus_ must be the queerest _scarabaeus_ in the world if it resembles it. Why, we may get up a very thrilling bit of superst.i.tion upon this hint. I presume you will call the bug _scarabaeus caput hominis_, or something of that kind--there are many similar t.i.tles in the Natural Histories. But where are the _antennae_ you spoke of?"

"The _antennae_!" said Legrand, who seemed to be getting unaccountably warm upon the subject; "I am sure you must see the _antennae_. I made them as distinct as they are in the original insect, and I presume that is sufficient."

"Well, well," I said, "perhaps you have--still I don't see them;" and I handed him the paper without additional remark, not wis.h.i.+ng to ruffle his temper; but I was much surprised at the turn affairs had taken; his ill-humor puzzled me--and, as for the drawing of the beetle, there were positively _no antennae_ visible, and the whole _did_ bear a very close resemblance to the ordinary cuts of a death's-head.

He received the paper very peevishly, and was about to crumple it, apparently to throw it in the fire, when a casual glance at the design seemed suddenly to rivet his attention. In an instant his face grew violently red--in another as excessively pale. For some minutes he continued to scrutinize the drawing minutely where he sat. At length he arose, took a candle from the table, and proceeded to seat himself upon a sea-chest in the farthest corner of the room. Here again he made an anxious examination of the paper, turning it in all directions. He said nothing, however, and his conduct greatly astonished me; yet I thought it prudent not to exacerbate the growing moodiness of his temper by any comment. Presently he took from his coat pocket a wallet, placed the paper carefully in it, and deposited both in a writing-desk, which he locked. He now grew more composed in his demeanor; but his original air of enthusiasm had quite disappeared. Yet he seemed not so much sulky as abstracted. As the evening wore away he became more and more absorbed in revery, from which no sallies of mine could arouse him. It had been my intention to pa.s.s the night at the hut, as I had frequently done before, but, seeing my host in this mood, I deemed it proper to take leave. He did not press me to remain, but, as I departed, he shook my hand with even more than his usual cordiality.

It was about a month after this (and during the interval I had seen nothing of Legrand) when I received a visit, at Charleston, from his man Jupiter. I had never seen the good old negro look so dispirited, and I feared that some serious disaster had befallen my friend.

"Well, Jup," said I, "what is the matter now?--how is your master?"

"Why, to speak de troof, ma.s.sa, him not so berry well as mought be."

"Not well! I am truly sorry to hear it. What does he complain of?"

"Dar! dat's it!--him never plain of notin--but him berry sick for all dat."

"_Very_ sick, Jupiter!--why didn't you say so at once? Is he confined to bed?"

"No, dat he aint!--he aint find nowhar--dat's just whar de shoe pinch--my mind is got to be berry hebby bout poor Ma.s.sa Will."

"Jupiter, I should like to understand what it is you are talking about.

You say your master is sick. Hasn't he told you what ails him?"

"Why, ma.s.sa, taint worf while for to git mad about de matter--Ma.s.sa Will say noffin at all aint de matter wid him--but den what make him go about looking dis here way, wid he head down and he soldiers up, and as white as a gose? And den he keep a syphon all de time"--

"Keeps a what, Jupiter?"

"Keeps a syphon wid de figgurs on de slate--de queerest figgurs I ebber did see. Ise gittin to be skeered, I tell you. Hab for to keep mighty tight eye pon him noovers. Todder day he gib me slip fore de sun up and was gone de whole ob de blessed day. I had a big stick ready cut for to gib him deuced good beating when he did come--but Ise sich a fool dat I hadn't de heart arter all--he look so berry poorly."

"Eh?--what?--ah, yes!--upon the whole I think you had better not be too severe with the poor fellow--don't flog him, Jupiter--he can't very well stand it--but can you form no idea of what has occasioned this illness, or rather this change of conduct? Has anything unpleasant happened since I saw you?"

"No, ma.s.sa, dey aint bin noffin onpleasant _since_ den--'twas _fore_ den I'm feared--'twas de berry day you was dare."

"How? what do you mean?"

"Why, ma.s.sa, I mean de bug--dare now."

"The what?"

"De bug--I'm berry sartain that Ma.s.sa Will bin bit somewhere bout de head by dat goole-bug."

"And what cause have you, Jupiter, for such a supposition?"

"Claws enuff, ma.s.sa, and mouff too. I nebber did see sich a deuced bug--he kick and he bite ebery ting what c.u.m near him. Ma.s.sa Will cotch him fuss, but had for to let him go gin mighty quick, I tell you--den was de time he must hab got de bite. I didn't like de look of de bug mouff, myself, no how, so I wouldn't take hold ob him wid my finger, but I cotch him wid a piece ob paper dat I found. I rap him up in de paper and stuff piece ob it in he mouff--dad was de way."

"And you think, then, that your master was really bitten by the beetle, and that the bite made him sick?"

"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 circ.u.mstance am I to attribute the honor of a visit from you to-day?"

"What de matter, ma.s.sa?"

"Did you bring any message from Mr. Legrand?"

"No, ma.s.sa, I bring dis here p.i.s.sel;" 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 a.s.sure 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, ma.s.sa, and spade."

"Very true; but what are they doing here?"

"Him de syfe and de spade what Ma.s.sa 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 'Ma.s.sa Will'