“Asia will know if we burn the lamp long, she always does.”
“No, she won’t, I’ve got a dark lantern on purpose; it don’t give
much light, and we can shut it quick if we hear anyone coming,”
said Dan.
This idea struck Nat as a fine one, and lent an air of romance to the
thing. He started off to tell Tommy, but put his head in again to
say,
“You want Demi, too, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t; the Deacon will rollup eyes and preach if you tell
him. He will be asleep, so just tip the wink to Tom and cut back
again.”
Nat obeyed, and returned in a minute with Tommy half dressed,
rather tousled about the head and very sleepy, but quite ready for
fun as usual.
“Now, keep quiet, and I’ll show you how to play a first-rate game
called ‘Poker,’ ” said Dan, as the three revellers gathered round the
table, on which were set forth the bottle, the cigar, and the cards.
“First we’ll all have a drink, then we’ll take a go at the ‘weed,’ and
then we’ll play. That’s the way men do, and it’s jolly fun.”
The beer circulated in a mug, and all three smacked their lips over
it, though Nat and Tommy did not like the bitter stuff. The cigar
was worse still, but they dared not say so, and each puffed away
till he was dizzy or choked, when he passed the “weed” on to his
neighbor. Dan liked it, for it seemed like old times when he now
and then had a chance to imitate the low men who surrounded
him. He drank, and smoked, and swaggered as much like them as
he could, and, getting into the spirit of the part he assumed, he
soon began to swear under his breath for fear some one should
hear him. “You mustn’t; it’s wicked to say ‘Damn!’ ” cried Tommy,
who had followed his leader so far.
“Oh, hang! don’t you preach, but play away; it’s part of the fun to
swear.”
“I’d rather say ‘thunder turtles,’ ” said Tommy, who had composed
this interesting exclamation and was very proud of it.
“And I’ll say ‘The Devil;’ that sounds well,” added Nat, much
impressed by Dan’s manly ways.
Dan scoffed at their “nonsense,” and swore stoutly as he tried to
teach them the new game.
But Tommy was very sleepy, and Nat’s head began to ache with
the beer and the smoke, so neither of them was very quick to learn,
and the game dragged. The room was nearly dark, for the lantern
burned badly; they could not laugh loud nor move about much, for
Silas slept next door in the shed-chamber, and altogether the party
was dull. In the middle of a deal Dan stopped suddenly, and called
out, “Who’s that?” in a startled tone, and at the same moment drew
the slide over the light. A voice in the darkness said tremulously, “I
can’t find Tommy,” and then there was the quick patter of bare feet
running away down the entry that led from the wing to the main
house.
“It’s Demi! he’s gone to call some one; cut into bed, Tom, and don’t
tell!” cried Dan, whisking all signs of the revel out of sight, and
beginning to tear off his clothes, while Nat did the same.
Tommy flew to his room and dived into bed, where he lay,
laughing till something burned his hand, when he discovered that
he was still clutching the stump of the festive cigar, which he
happened to be smoking when the revel broke up.
It was nearly out, and he was about to extinguish it carefully when
Nursey’s voice was heard, and fearing it would betray him if he hid
it in the bed, he threw it underneath, after a final pinch which he
thought finished it.
Nursey came in with Demi, who looked much amazed to see the
red face of Tommy reposing peacefully upon his pillow.
“He wasn’t there just now, because I woke up and could not find
him anywhere,” said Demi, pouncing on him.
“What mischief are you at now, bad child?” asked Nursey, with a