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Page 72
"Mann? - _Captain_ Mann?" here screamed some little feminine
interloper from the farthest corner of the room. "Are you talking
about Captain Mann and the duel? - oh, I _must_ hear - do tell -
go on, Mrs. O'Trump! - do now go on!" And go on Mrs. O'Trump did
- all about a certain Captain Mann, who was either shot or hung, or
should have been both shot and hung. Yes! Mrs. O'Trump, she went
on, and I - I went off. There was no chance of hearing anything
farther that evening in regard to Brevet Brigadier General John A. B.
C. Smith.
Still I consoled myself with the reflection that the tide of ill
luck would not run against me forever, and so determined to make a
bold push for information at the rout of that bewitching little
angel, the graceful Mrs. Pirouette.
"Smith?" said Mrs. P., as we twirled about together in a _pas de
zephyr_, "Smith? - why, not General John A. B. C.? Dreadful
business that of the Bugaboos, wasn't it? - dreadful creatures,
those Indians! - _do_ turn out your toes! I really am ashamed
of you - man of great courage, poor fellow! - but this is a
wonderful age for invention - O dear me, I'm out of breath - quite a
desperado - prodigies of valor - _never heard!!_ - can't believe it
- I shall have to sit down and enlighten you - Smith! why, he's
the man" ---
"Man-_Fred_, I tell you!" here bawled out Miss Bas-Bleu, as I
led Mrs. Pirouette to a seat. "Did ever anybody hear the like?
It's Man-_Fred_, I say, and not at all by any means Man-_Friday_."
Here Miss Bas-Bleu beckoned to me in a very peremptory manner; and I
was obliged, will I nill I, to leave Mrs. P. for the purpose of
deciding a dispute touching the title of a certain poetical drama of
Lord Byron's. Although I pronounced, with great promptness, that the
true title was Man-_Friday_, and not by any means Man-_Fred_, yet
when I returned to seek Mrs. Pirouette she was not to be discovered,
and I made my retreat from the house in a very bitter spirit of
animosity against the whole race of the Bas-Bleus.
Matters had now assumed a really serious aspect, and I resolved
to call at once upon my particular friend, Mr. Theodore Sinivate;
for I knew that here at least I should get something like definite
information.
"Smith?" said he, in his well-known peculiar way of drawling out
his syllables; "Smith? - why, not General John A. B. C.? Savage
affair that with the Kickapo-o-o-os, wasn't it? Say! don't you
think so? - perfect despera-a-ado - great pity, 'pon my honor!
- wonderfully inventive age! - pro-o-odigies of valor! By the
by, did you ever hear about Captain Ma-a-a-a-n?"
"Captain Mann be d--d!" said I; "please to go on with your
story."
"Hem! - oh well! - quite _la m�me cho-o-ose_, as we say in
France. Smith, eh? Brigadier-General John A. B. C.? I say" -
[here Mr. S. thought proper to put his finger to the side of his
nose] - "I say, you don't mean to insinuate now, really and truly,
and conscientiously, that you don't know all about that affair of
Smith's, as well as I do, eh? Smith? John A-B-C.? Why, bless
me, he's the ma-a-an" ---
"_Mr_. Sinivate," said I, imploringly, "_is_ he the man in the
mask?"
"No-o-o!" said he, looking wise, "nor the man in the mo-o-on."
This reply I considered a pointed and positive insult, and so
left the house at once in high dudgeon, with a firm resolve to call
my friend, Mr. Sinivate, to a speedy account for his ungentlemanly
conduct and ill-breeding.
In the meantime, however, I had no notion of being thwarted
touching the information I desired. There was one resource left me
yet. I would go to the fountain-head. I would call forthwith upon
the General himself, and demand, in explicit terms, a solution of
this abominable piece of mystery. Here, at least, there should be no
chance for equivocation. I would be plain, positive, peremptory - as
short as pie-crust - as concise as Tacitus or Montesquieu.
It was early when I called, and the General was dressing; but I
pleaded urgent business, and was shown at once into his bed-room by
an old negro valet, who remained in attendance during my visit. As I
entered the chamber, I looked about, of course, for the occupant,
but did not immediately perceive him. There was a large and
exceedingly odd-looking bundle of something which lay close by my
feet on the floor, and, as I was not in the best humor in the world,
I gave it a kick out of the way.
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