Addressing Colonel Belford as “My dear Billy,” he called upon that gentleman to rejoice at this determination, and informed him that he proposed in future to live “as decent a limb of grace as ever broke loose from hell,” and added that he was going to fetch as a present for his niece Belinda a “dam pirty little black girl” to carry her prayer-book to church for her.

Accordingly, one fine morning, in pursuance of this promise, our West Indian suddenly appeared at New Hope with a prodigious quantity of chests and travelling-cases, and with so vociferous an acclamation that all the town knew of his arrival within a half-hour of that event.

When, however, he presented himself before Colonel Belford, it was to meet with a welcome so frigid and an address so reserved that a douche of cold water could not have quenched his verbosity more entirely.  For our great man had no notion to submit to the continued infliction of the West Indian’s presence.  Accordingly, after the first words of greeting had passed, he addressed Captain Obadiah in a strain somewhat after this fashion: 

“Indeed, I protest, my dear brother Obadiah, it is with the heartiest regrets in the world that I find myself obliged to confess that I cannot offer you a home with myself and my family.  It is not alone that your manners displease me—­though, as an elder to a younger, I may say to you that we of these more northern latitudes do not entertain the same tastes in such particulars as doubtless obtain in the West Indies—­but the habits of my household are of such a nature that I could not hope to form them to your liking.  I can, however, offer as my advice that you may find lodgings at the Blue Lion Tavern, which doubtless will be of a sort exactly to fit your inclinations.  I have made inquiries, and I am sure you will find the very best apartments to be obtained at that excellent hostelry placed at your disposal.”

To this astounding address our West Indian could, for a moment, make no other immediate reply than to open his eyes and to glare upon Colonel Belford, so that, what with his tall, lean person, his long neck, his stooping shoulders, and his yellow face stained upon one side an indigo blue by some premature explosion of gunpowder—­what with all this and a prodigious hooked beak of a nose, he exactly resembled some hungry predatory bird of prey meditating a pounce upon an unsuspecting victim.  At last, finding his voice, and rapping the ferrule of his ivory-headed cane upon the floor to emphasize his declamation, he cried out:  “What!  What!  What!  Is this the way to offer a welcome to a brother new returned to your house?  Why, ——­ ——! who are you?  Am not I your brother, who could buy you out twice over and have enough left to live in velvet?  Why!  Why!—­Very well, then, have it your own way; but if I don’t grind your face into the mud and roll you into the dirt my name is not Obadiah Belford!” Thereupon, striving to say more but finding no fit words for the occasion, he swung upon his heel and incontinently departed, banging the door behind him like a clap of thunder, and cursing and swearing so prodigiously as he strode away down the street that an infernal from the pit could scarcely have exceeded the fury of his maledictions.