"Forty-seven; Guava jelly, Sambo!--where is forty-seven?"
"Me no see him," said Sambo; "missus eat him up, perhaps."
"Monsonze! you filthy creature; look for it, sirrah!" So saying, Mrs. Davis applied her double eye-glass to her eyes, and again surveyed me for some seconds.
"You are the"--she hesitated--"the young person my friend Pike brought out, I believe?"
"Yes, my lady," said I, bowing profoundly.
"What's your name? The captain has not written it clearly."
"Con--Con," repeated she twice or thrice; "what does Con mean?"
"Ah, the abbreviation for Cornelius! And where have you lived, Cornelius?"
"My last place, my lady, was Sir Miles O'Ryan's, of Roaring Water."
"What are you doing, you wretch? Take your filthy fingers out of that pot this instant!" screamed she, suddenly.
"Me taste him, an' he be dam hot!" cried the nigger, dancing from one foot to the other, as his mouth was on fire from tasting capsicum pods.
I thought of my own mustard experience, and then, turning a glance of ineffable contempt upon my black friend, said, "Those creatures, my lady, are _so_ ignorant, they really do not know the nature of the commonest condiments."
"Very true, Cornelius. I would wish, however, to observe to you that although my family are all persons of rank, I have no title myself,--that is to say," added she, with a pleasing smile, "I do not assume it here; therefore, until we return to England, you need n't address me as ladyship."
"No, my lady,--I beg your ladyship's pardon for forgetting; but as I have always lived in high families, I 've got the habit, my lady, of saying, 'my lady.'"
"I am Madam, plain Madam Davis. There, I knew you 'd do it, you nasty little beast, you odious black creature!" This sudden apostrophe was evoked by the nigger endeavoring to balance a jam-pot on his thumb, while he spun it round with the other hand,--an exploit that ended in a smash of the jar, and a squash of the jam all over my silk stockings.
"It's of no consequence, my lady; I shall change them when I dress for dinner," said I, with consummate ease.
"The jam is lost, however. Will you kindly beat him about the head with that candlestick beside you?"
I seized the implement, as if in most choleric mood. But my black was not to be caught so easily; and with a dive between my legs he bolted for the door, whilst I was pitched forward against the step-ladder, head foremost. In my terror, I threw out my hands to save myself, and caught--not the ladder, but Madam Davis's legs; and down we went together, with a small avalanche of brown jars and preserve-pots clattering over us.