Chapter 13

I will stand to and feed,
Although my last.

--Tempest.

The savor of preparation which had been noticed by Captain Lawton began
to increase within the walls of the cottage; certain sweet-smelling
odors, that arose from the subterranean territories of Caesar, gave to
the trooper the most pleasing assurances that his olfactory nerves,
which on such occasions were as acute as his eyes on others, had
faithfully performed their duty; and for the benefit of enjoying the
passing sweets as they arose, the dragoon so placed himself at a window
of the building, that not a vapor charged with the spices of the East
could exhale on its passage to the clouds, without first giving its
incense to his nose. Lawton, however, by no means indulged himself in
this comfortable arrangement, without first making such preparations to
do meet honor to the feast, as his scanty wardrobe would allow. The
uniform of his corps was always a passport to the best tables, and this,
though somewhat tarnished by faithful service and unceremonious usage,
was properly brushed and decked out for the occasion. His head, which
nature had ornamented with the blackness of a crow, now shone with the
whiteness of snow; and his bony hand, that so well became the saber,
peered from beneath a ruffle with something like maiden coyness. The
improvements of the dragoon went no further, excepting that his boots
shone with more than holiday splendor, and his spurs glittered in the
rays of the sun, as became the pure ore of which they were composed.

Caesar moved through the apartments with a face charged with an
importance exceeding even that which had accompanied him in his
melancholy task of the morning. The black had early returned from the
errand on which he had been dispatched by the peddler, and, obedient to
the commands of his mistress, promptly appeared to give his services
where his allegiance was due; so serious, indeed, was his duty now
becoming, that it was only at odd moments he was enabled to impart to
his sable brother, who had been sent in attendance on Miss Singleton to
the Locusts, any portion of the wonderful incidents of the momentous
night he had so lately passed. By ingeniously using, however, such
occasions as accidentally offered, Caesar communicated so many of the
heads of his tale, as served to open the eyes of his visitor to their
fullest width. The gusto for the marvelous was innate in these sable
worthies; and Miss Peyton found it necessary to interpose her authority,
in order to postpone the residue of the history to a more befitting
opportunity.

"Ah! Miss Jinnett," said Caesar, shaking his head, and looking all that
he expressed, "'twas awful to see Johnny Birch walk on a feet when he
lie