thing of the surprise I felt, at his not having hinted that he was to be my fellow-traveller. To this he made no very distinct reply, but entered into a conversation on other subjects, which lasted until we reached the halting-place for breakfast. Here we were joined by one or two travellers proceeding a few stages along our route, and as far as I remember, we were not again entirely alone until we reached, late in the evening, the village of Monticello, where we were to pass the night. After supper, I was shown into a room containing two beds, and had hardly lain down to rest in one of them, when my companion entered, undressed in silence, and threw himself into the other. I wondered a little at this, for the inn in which we then were was a spacious one, of a superior class, containing, I knew, abundant accommodation, and for that night had few travellers to lodge.
Next morning we resumed our journey early, having the stage-coach entirely to ourselves. I observed that my companion was more communicative than he had been the day before in the presence of others, and seemed desirous to give me information of every kind which might be interesting to a foreigner newly arrived in the country. One thing I particularly remember. The products of the region through which we were passing formed one of our topics of conversation; and having mentioned buckwheat as one of them, he inquired if I had ever tasted slapjacks, a familiar designation, as he told me, on inquiry, for buckwheat-pancakes. I replied in the negative, when he said I should not long be unacquainted with what he termed the greatest of Yankee delicacies. Accordingly, on entering the inn at which we stopped to breakfast, he ordered some to be prepared for us, and we feasted on slapjacks and maple-molasses. This was only one of a series of similar marks of attention which he showed me during this day. I endeavoured, as politely as I could, to draw him into lines of conversation by which I hoped to elicit some particulars respecting himself, but in vain. He evaded, without any apparent effort, all my contrivances. Looking at him from time to time, when unobserved, I strove hard to form in my mind some idea of his history and occupation, but without success.
In one’s own country it is not difficult to draw from a fellow-traveller’s dress and bearing correct inferences as to his character and profession; but in a foreign land, and especially in America, it requires a residence of more than a few days to enable one do to so. He was evidently a man of limited education, although of great intelligence. This—and that he was a native of Connecticut—was all that I could ascertain. The expression of his face, and the features themselves, bore a sort of resemblance to those of Lord Byron: but whether they betokened deep anxiety or deep design, great mental suffering or great villainy, I could not make out. A mystery began to gather about the man. I felt what in Scotland is termed “eerie” in being alone with him, and was sensibly relieved, I remember, when an occasional traveller joined us in the stage for a few miles. On this, the second night of our journey, we stopped at a decent country inn at Coshecton, on the river Delaware, which separates the States of New York and Pennsylvania, and as on the previous night, were shown into a double-bedded room, although there was room to have lodged us separately.
The next day passed much as the preceding one had done, but as we were entirely alone until the evening, brought on a state of mind, arising from the mysterious expression of my fellow-traveller, which became extremely painful. Intense curiosity gave rise to a distressing nervousness, which was at length changed, by certain questions and observations of my companion, into a gloomy apprehension of impending evil. He inquired if I was accustomed to travel armed. On my giving an evasive answer, he observed that most Englishmen, he understood, were more or less skilled in boxing. He had once, he said, seen at New York an exhibition of boxing by English pugilists, and had been much struck by the amazing rapidity, dexterity, and power with which they wielded the weapons with which nature had furnished them.
“Had I learned to box?”
I replied that, at college, I had been a member of a gymnastic club, in which the practice of that art had formed one of our occasional exercises.
“Then, I expect,” he proceeded, “judging by the quickness of the boxers I saw at New York, that if a man were to fire a pistol at you and miss his mark, you could use him up before he had time to draw a second pistol.”
I could only answer that I should try to do so.
If anything had been wanting to confirm my growing fears, it was supplied by another conversation in which my companion soon afterwards engaged me; the object of which, it soon became evident, was to ascertain if I had any considerable sum of money on my person or in my baggage. Old-countrymen, he said, in coming to America, generally brought with them in sovereigns, the money which they intended to invest in the purchase of land; and this practice he thought judicious, as sovereigns stood at a premium both in the United States and in Canada. But he said that new comers seldom received the full amount of the advantage to which they were entitled. He added, that if I had any considerable number to dispose of, he could introduce me to a broker at Binghampton, through which we were to pass, who would deal fairly with me. I replied that I carried with me only a sufficient sum for the expenses of the journey. I had, in fact, only about ninety dollars, the remains of a hundred which I had drawn before leaving New York. I was about to tell him the amount, but in the state of mind to which I had been brought, it occurred to me that even that sum might be sufficient to tempt the cupidity of a dishonest man. During the silence which ensued, my fears soon assumed a definite shape. Could it be possible, I asked myself, that I was the fellow-traveller, in a lonely region of a strange country—of a robber, who wished, before executing his purpose, to ascertain the probable fruits of his crime and my capabilities of self-defence? This painful course of thought was interrupted by the entrance of a new passenger, who accompanied us to our halting-place for the night. A general conversation com-