I looked up as it came alongside, and there by the rail were two men standin’, a big black man and a tall, right handsome fellow with as fine a set of shoulders as I’d ever seen. My heart did a flip-flop. It couldn’t be! Not here!
Suddenly I was glad I’d bought that blue dress and the bonnet with the lace, but he wasn’t even looking at me! He didn’t even see me!
A man tipped his hat. “Ma’am? Were you going aboard, ma’am?”
“Oh? Oh, yes! Of course!”
“Better hurry, ma’am, that gangway is down only for minutes. The cap’n, ma’am, he’s in a powerful hurry!”
Taking up my bag, I went to the gangway. Glancing up there again, I saw the black man watching me. He said something to the tall young man, but he was looking off over my head at somebody. I turned around, and there behind me was Elmer.
He grinned at me, showing his ugly teeth. “Carry your bag, ma’am?”
I turned away from him and went up the gangway, and as I came aboard, Timothy Oats was standing there, not smiling or anything, but just looking at me. His cut lip had healed but there was meanness in his eyes. I walked right past him and went along the deck to an officer.
He was a young, handsome boy with cornsilk hair and a face red from the sun. “Cabin, ma’am? Come, an’ I’ll show you.”
“Sir? That man by the gangway. I think his name is Oats. I don’t want my cabin close to his. Please?”
“I’ll see, ma’am. I am afraid there’s little choice, we’re that crowded, but you need have no fear aboard this boat, the cap’n is a stickler for propriety. You will not be disturbed, I promise you.”
The cabin was very small and there were two bunks; a valise was already sitting on the lower one.
“Oh? I must share the cabin with someone?”
“Yes, ma’am. Most folks sleep out on the deck, we’re that short of space. Seems like everybody’s travelin’ these days. You goin’ far, ma’am?”
“To Cincinnati, I think. I might go further.”
“Hope you do.” He touched his cap to me. “It isn’t often we have a girl aboard as pretty as you.”
“Thank you. Do you know who is sharing this cabin with me?”
“Yes, ma’am. She’s an older lady. She’s going to Cincinnati too. She is called Mrs. Buchanan.”
“Called? Isn’t that her name?”
He glanced around quickly. “I wouldn’t repeat this, ma’am, but I was on another steamboat where she was a passenger, and she had a different name then.” Suddenly he was worried. “I shouldn’t have said that, but you be careful. You see, I could be wrong about her.”
When he was gone, I looked up at that upper bunk. My carpetbag was heavy. How ever was I to get it up there? And I did want it where I could feel it near me. I’d lost it once and did not intend to again.
It was heavy, but I managed, after all. I put it on the back side of the bunk, and my pillow covered it a mite. From down below, I couldn’t see it at all.
At the mirror, which was not a very good one, I primped a little, tucking in a curl here, fluffing my hair a little there. Then, letting my bonnet hang by its ribbon, I went out on deck. There was a place nearby where I could stand by the rail and still keep my cabin door in view.
We were already out from shore and moving down the Ohio.
The banks were high bluffs and heavily wooded. Here, as on the roads, were a lot of people moving. They were in flatboats or keel boats, once in a while somebody in a canoe. Most of them were going downstream.
A voice sounded close by, and I looked around. There was that young man! The black man was beside him. He glanced at me, and I smiled.
He stared, shocked, then turned away, turning his back on me. It was him, all right, those same broad shoulders and the back of his head I would know anywhere.
Well! If he wanted to be that way, all right! Glancing toward my cabin, I saw a woman at the door. She was folding a parasol and about to enter, so I crossed to the door and went in behind her.
Hearing my step, she turned. She had large, very blue eyes, and lips so red they had to be painted, but the job was well done and one could not be sure, not really.
“Oh? You are the young lady who shares the cabin?”
“I am.”
“You’re very pretty, you know. Do come in! It is crowded, but we can manage.” She held out her hand. She wore several rings. Two of them looked like diamonds, although I had never seen a diamond, just heard of them. “I am Essie Buchanan. I am going to Cincinnati.”
“So am I.”
“Oh? Perhaps I can entertain you there. It is a rough town, but a good, lively one. If you like a good time, it is the place to have it. No end to the men, and most of them very handsome.”
“I shan’t be there long.”
“That’s too bad.” She glanced at me again, a quick, measuring look. “You are traveling alone?”
“I am.” I paused. “I think I’m to be met.”
She talked a little, mostly of clothes and the weather, and after a bit she started back to the deck. “Would you like to join me? On the promenade?”
“No, thank you. I think I will just rest.”
When she was gone, the cabin smelled of her perfume. I didn’t like it very much. She was a handsome woman, and very expensively dressed, but something about her didn’t seem right. Or maybe what the young officer had said was influencing me. I must not be prejudiced. Nonetheless, I had to watch the cabin. Timothy Oats would steal my bag and all that was in it if given a chance.
A thought occurred to me. What was Dorian Chantry doing here? This was a long way from the hunts, balls, and belles of Philadelphia. Maybe I was mistaken. After all, I had never seen his face. I could not be sure. He must think me brazen, smiling at him like that. The thought made me flush with shame. What a fool I was!
If I had not seen him, he certainly had not seen me, his back to me and all.
The young officer who had shown me to my stateroom explained the boat to me. Although I’d heard most of it before, I listened with rapt attention. Long ago, Regal advised me: “Men like to talk of what concerns them. Learn to listen, and if you can ask a question now and again, do it. Give them those big eyes of yours and you’ll have no problem. You’ll be bored often enough, but you’ll learn a lot, too, and they will go away telling everybody what a charmin’ girl you are.
“You learn to listen, or at least act like you’re listening and you’ll find menfolks doin’ all sorts of things for you. Smooths the way, y’ know? An’ if you’re modest about it an’ don’t flaunt yourself around, the women will like you too.
“A man, he’s got to get along mostly with hard work an’ persistence, but with a woman it is mostly maneuver. Men have to maneuver too, especially so when it comes to womenfolks.”
“You see,” the young officer was saying, “there’s two lines of cabins, with the main cabin in between. The doors from the cabins open on the main cabin, where folks can mingle and get acquainted. We serve meals there, too.
“Most of the cargo is stowed on the main deck, but sometimes bales of cotton or whatever are piled higher than the deck we’re on.”
His name was Robinson and he seemed a nice young man. “If there is anything I can do for you, just call on me.”
At supper in the main cabin there were three tables. Sure enough, I was seated at the same table with that tall young man. The captain introduced everybody to everybody else, and sure enough, he was Dorian Chantry. When my name was mentioned, he looked across the table and our eyes met. He flushed and looked away, which seemed odd, for he was supposed to be a ladies’ man.
There was an older man at the table, a stocky man, taking on some fat at the belt, with thinning white hair, but a face that seemed young for the hair. He glanced at me when my name was mentioned, but said nothing. His name was Ginery Wooster.
At the third table, Timothy Oats was seated close to Essie Buchanan. They were talking. I did not look at them, not wanting them to realize I’d noticed. I had to get away; I had to get off this boat, somehow, some way.