The sparse, white frost above
his ears was damp with sweat. He removed his stock, opened his
shirt at the neck, and cast aside his coat; then he lighted a
blackened pipe, filled his glass, and sank back in his chair.
The long hours of darkness were all before him, and his senses
clothed themselves in rich content. Once more his glance rested
on the boy. Here, indeed, was a guest of whom one might make
much and not err--he felt all the benevolence of his nature flow
toward him. Ten dollars!
"Certainly the tavern would have been no place for you! Well,
thank God, it wasn't necessary for you to go there. You are more
than welcome here. I tell you, when you know this place as I
know it, you'll regard every living soul here with suspicion.
Keep 'em at arm's length!" he sank his voice to an impressive
whisper. "In particular, I warn you against a certain Solomon
Mahaffy. You'll see much of him; I haven't known how to rebuff
the fellow without being rude--he sticks to me like my shadow.
He's profited by my charity and he admires my conversation and
affects my society, but don't tell him you have so much as a
rusty copper, for he will neither rest nor eat nor sleep until
he's plucked you--tell him nothing--leave him to me. I keep him
--there--" the judge extended his fat hands, "at arm's length. I
say to him metaphorically speaking--'so close, but no closer.
I'll visit you when sick, I'll pray with you when dying, I'll
chat with you, I'll eat with you, I'll smoke with you, and if
need be, I'll drink with you--but be your intimate? Never! Why?
Because be's a damned Yankee! These are the inextinguishable
feelings of a gentleman.
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