On the morning on which the great steamer glided within the tranquil waters of Long Island, Quackinboss appeared at Layton's berth, to announce the fact, as well as report progress with the stranger. “I was right, sir,” said he; “he's been and burnt his fingers on 'Change; that's the reason he's here. The crittur was in the share-market, and got his soup too hot! You Britishers seem to have the bright notion that, when you've been done at home, you 'll be quite sharp enough to do us here, and so, whenever you make a grand smash in Leadenhall Street, it's only coming over to Broadway! Well, now, sir, that's considerable of a mistake; we understand smashing too,—ay, and better than folk in the old country. Look you here, sir; if I mean to lose my ship on the banks, or in an ice-drift, or any other way, I don't go and have her built of strong oak plank and well-seasoned timber, copper-fastened, and the rest of it; but I run her up with light pine, and cheap fixin's everywhere. She not only goes to pieces the quicker, but there ain't none of her found to tell where it happened, and how. That's how it comes we founder, and there 's no noise made about it; while one of your chaps goes bumpin' on the rocks for weeks, with fellows up in the riggin', and life-boats takin' 'em off, and such-like, till the town talks of nothing else, and all the newspapers are filled with pathetic incidents, so that the very fellows that calked her seams or wove her canvas are held up to public reprobation. That's how you do it, sir, and that's where you 're wrong. When a man builds a cardhouse, he don't want iron fastenings. I've explained all to that crittur there, and he seems to take it in wonderful.” “Who is he—what is he?” asked Layton.

“His name's Trover; firm, Trover, Twist, and Co., Frankfort and Florence, bankers, general merchants, rag exporters, commission agents, doing a bit in the picture line and marble for the American market, and sole agents for the sale of Huxley's tonic balsam. That's how he is,” said the Colonel, reading the description from his note-book.

“I never heard of him before.”

“He knows you, though,—knew you the moment he came aboard; said you was tutor to a lord in Italy, and that he cashed you circular notes on Stanbridge and Sawley. These fellows forget nobody.”

“What does he know of the Heathcotes?”

“Pretty nigh everything. He knows that the old Baronet would be for makin' a fortune out of his ward's money, and has gone and lost a good slice of it, and that the widow has been doin' a bit of business in the share-market, in the same profitable fashion,—not but she's a rare wide-awake 'un, and sees into the 'exchanges' clear enough. As to the gal, he thinks she sold her—”

“Sold her! What do you mean?” cried Layton, in a voice of horror.

“Jest this, that one of those theatrical fellows as buys singing-people, and gets 'em taught,—it's all piping-bullfinch work with 'em,—has been and taken her away; most probably cheap, too, for Trover said she was n't nowise a rare article; she had a will of her own, and was as likely to say 'I won't,' as 'I will.'”

“Good heavens! And are things like this suffered,—are they endured in the age we live in?”

“Yes, sir. You've got all your British sympathies very full about negroes and 'Uncle Tom's Cabin,' you 're wonderful strong about slavery and our tyrants down South, and you 've something like fifty thousand born ladies, called governesses, treated worse than housemaids, and some ten thousand others condemned to what I won't speak of, that they may amuse you in your theatres. I can tell you, sir, that the Legrees that walk St. James's Street and Piccadilly are jest as black-hearted as the fellows in Georgia or Alabama, though they carry gold-headed walking-sticks instead of cow-hides.”

“But sold her!” reiterated Layton. “Do you mean to say that Clara has been given over to one of these people to prepare her for the stage?”

“Yes, sir; he says his name's Stocmar,—a real gentleman, he calls him, with a house at Brompton, and a small yacht at Cowes. They 've rather good notions about enjoying themselves, these theatre fellows. They get a very good footing in West End life, too, by supplying countesses to the nobility.”

“No, no!” cried Layton, angrily; “you carry your prejudices against birth and class beyond reason and justice too.”

“Well, I suspect not, sir,” said Quackinboss, slowly. “Not to say that I was n't revilin', but rather a-praisin' 'em, for the supply of so much beauty to the best face-market in all Europe. If I were to say what's the finest prerogatives of one of your lords, I know which I 'd name, sir, and it would n't be wearin' a blue ribbon, and sittin' on a carved oak bench in what you call the Upper House of Parliament.”

“But Clara—what of Clara?” cried Layton, impatiently.

“He suspects that she's at Milan, a sort of female college they have there, where they take degrees in singin' and dancin'. All I hope is that the poor child won't learn any of their confounded lazy Italian notions. There's no people can prosper, sir, when their philosophy consists in Come si fa? Come si fa? means it's no use to work, it's no good to strive; the only thing to do in life is to lie down in the shade and suck oranges. That's the real reason they like Popery, sir, because they can even go to heaven without trouble, by paying another man to do the prayin' for 'em. It ain't much trouble to hire a saint, when it only costs lighting a candle to him. And to tell me that's a nation wants liberty and free institutions! No man wants liberty, sir, that won't work for his bread; no man really cares for freedom till he's ready to earn his livin', for this good reason, that the love of liberty must grow out of personal independence, as you'll see, sir, when you take a walk yonder.” And he pointed to the tall steeples of New York as he spoke. But Layton cared little for the discussion of such a theme; his thoughts had another and a very different direction.

“Poor Clara!” muttered he. “How is she to be rescued from such a destiny?”

“I'd say by the energy and determination of the man who cares for her,” said Quackinboss, boldly. “Come si fa? won't save her, that's certain.”

“Can you learn anything of the poor child's history from this man, or does he know it?”

“Well, sir,” drawled out the Colonel, “that ain't so easy to say. Whether a man has a partic'lar piece of knowledge in his head, or whether a quartz rock has a streak of gold inside of it, is things only to be learned in the one way,—by hammering,—ay, sir, by hammering! Now, it strikes me this Trover don't like hammering; first of all, the sight of you here has made him suspicious—”

“Not impossible is it that he may have seen you also, Colonel,” broke in Layton.

“Well, sir,” said the other, drawing himself proudly up, “and if he had, what of it? You don't fancy that we are like the Britishers? You don't imagine that when we appear in Eu-rope that every one turns round and whispers, 'That's a gentleman from the United States'? No, sir, it is the remarkable gift of our people to be cosmopolite. We pass for Russian, French, Spanish, or Italian, jest as we like, not from our skill in language, which we do not all possess, so much as a certain easy imitation of the nat-ive that comes nat'ral to us. Even our Western people, sir, with very remarkable features of their own, have this property; and you may put a man from Kentucky down on the Boulevard de Gand to-morrow, and no one will be able to say he warn't a born Frenchman!”

“I certainly have not made that observation hitherto,” said Layton, dryly.

“Possibly not, sir, because your national pride is offended by our never imitating you! No, sir, we never do that!”

“But won't you own that you might find as worthy models in England as in France or Italy?”

“Not for us, sir,—not for us. Besides, we find ourselves at home on the Continent; we don't with you. The Frenchman is never taxing us with every little peculiarity of accent or diction; he 's not always criticising our ways where they differ from his own. Now, your people do, and, do what we may, sir, they will look on us as what the Chinese call 'second chop.' Now, to my thinking, we are first chop, sir, and you are the tea after second watering.”

They were now rapidly approaching the only territory in which an unpleasant feeling was possible between them. Each knew and felt this, and yet, with a sort of national stubbornness, neither liked to be the one to recede first. As for Layton, bound as he was by a debt of deep gratitude to the American, he chafed under the thought of sacrificing even a particle of his country's honor to the accident of his own condition, and with a burning cheek and flashing eye he began,—

“There can be no discussion on the matter. Between England and America there can no more be a question as to supremacy—”

“There, don't say it; stop there,” said Quackinboss, mildly. “Don't let us get warm about it. I may like to sit in a rockin'-chair and smoke my weed in the parlor; you may prefer to read the 'Times' at the drawing-room fire; but if we both agree to go out into the street together, sir, we can whip all cre-ation.”

And he seized Layton's hand, and wrung it with an honest warmth that there was no mistaking.

“And now as to this Mr. Trover,” said Layton, after a few minutes. “Are we likely to learn anything from him?”

“Well, sir,” said the Colonel, lazily, “I 'm on his track, and I know his footmarks so well now that I 'll be sure to detect him if I see him again. He 's a-goin' South, and so are we. He's a-looking out for land; that's exactly what we're arter!”

“You have dropped no hint about our lecturing scheme?” asked Layton, eagerly.

“I rayther think not, sir,” said the other, half indignant at the bare suspicion. “We 're two gentlemen on the search after a good location and a lively water-power. We 've jest heard of one down West, and there's the whole cargo as per invoice.” And he gave a knowing wink and look of mingled drollery and cunning.

“You are evidently of opinion that this man could be of use to us?” said Layton, who was well aware how fond the American was of acting with a certain mystery, and who therefore cautiously abstained from any rash assault upon his confidence.

“Yes, sir, that's my ticket; but I mean to take my own time to lay the bill on the table. But here comes the small steamers and the boats for the mails. Listen to that bugle, Britisher. That air is worth all Mozart. Yes, sir,” said he proudly, as he hummed,—

Quackinboss gradually dropped his voice, till at the concluding line the words sank into an undistinguishable murmur; for now, as it were, on the threshold of his own door, he felt all the claim of courtesy to the stranger. Still it was not possible for him to repress the proud delight he felt in the signs of wealth and prosperity around him.

“There,” cried he, with enthusiasm, “there ain't a land in the universe—that's worth calling a land—has n't a flag flying yonder! There's every color of bunting, from Lapland to Shanghai, afloat in them waters, sir; and yet you 'll not have to go back two hundred years, and where you see the smoke risin' from ten thousand human dwellin's there was n't one hearth nor one home! The black pine and the hemlock grew down those grassy slopes where you see them gardens, and the red glare of the Indian's fire shone out where the lighthouse now points to safety and welcome! It ain't a despicable race as has done all that! If that be not the work of a great people, I 'd like to hear what is!” He next pointed out to Layton the various objects of interest as they presented themselves to view, commenting on the very different impressions such a scene of human energy and activity is like to produce than those lands of Southern Europe from which they had lately come. “You 'll never hear Come si fa? here, sir,” said he, proudly. “If a man can't fix a thing aright, he 'll not wring his hands and sit down to cry over it, but he 'll go home to think of it at his meals, and as he lies awake o' nights; and he 'll ask himself again and again, 'If there be a way o' doin' this, why can't I find it out as well as another?'”

It was the Colonel's belief that out of the principle of equality sprang an immense amount of that energy which develops itself in inventive ability; and he dilated on this theory for some time, endeavoring to show that the subdivision of ranks in the Old World tended largely to repress the enterprising spirit which leads men into paths previously untrodden. “That you 'll see, sir, when you come to mix with our people. And now, a word of advice to you before you begin.”

He drew his arm within Layton's as he said this, and led him two or three turns on the deck in silence. The subject was in some sort a delicate one, and he did not well see how to open it without a certain risk of offending. “Here's how it is,” said he at last. “Our folk isn't your folk because they speak the same language. In your country, your station or condition, or whatever you like to call it, answers for you, and the individual man merges into the class he belongs to. Not so here. We don't care a red cent about your rank, but we want to know about you yourself! Now, you strangers mistake all that feeling, and call it impertinence and curiosity, and such-like; but it ain't anything of the kind! No, sir. It simply means what sort of knowledge, what art or science or labor, can you contribute to the common stock? Are you a-come amongst us to make us wiser or richer or thriftier or godlier; or are you just a loafer,—a mere loafer? My asking you on a rail-car whence you come and where you 're a-goin' is no more impertinence than my inquirin' at a store whether they have got this article or that! I want to know whether you and I, as we journey together, can profit each other; whether either of us mayn't have something the other has never heard afore. He can't have travelled very far in life who has n't picked up many an improvin' thing from men he didn't know the names on, ay, and learned many a sound lesson, besides, of patience, or contentment, forgiveness, and the like; and all that ain't so easy if people won't be sociable together!”

Layton nodded a sort of assent; and Quackinboss continued, in the same strain, to point out peculiarities to be observed, and tastes to be consulted, especially with reference to the national tendency to invite to “liquor,” which he assured Layton by no means required a sense of thirst on his part to accede to. “You ain't always charmed when you say you are, in French, sir; and the same spirit of politeness should lead you to accept a brandy-smash without needing it, or even to drink off a cocktail when you ain't dry. After all,” said he, drawing a long breath, like one summing up the pith of a discourse, “if you're a-goin' to pick holes in Yankee coats, to see all manner of things to criticise, condemn, and sneer at, if you 're satisfied to describe a people by a few peculiarities which are not pleasin' to you, go ahead and abuse us; but if you 'll accept honest hospitality, though offered in a way that's new and strange to you,—if you 'll believe in true worth and genuine loyalty of character, even though its possessor talk somewhat through the nose,—then, sir, I say, there ain't no fear that America will disappoint you, or that you 'll be ill-treated by Americans.” With this speech he turned away to look after his baggage and get ready to go ashore.