It was too profane, too sacrilegious, to
stain our page.
Grasping the bell-rope with a sudden energy, as though a new thought had
struck him, he gave it a violent pull, which brought to his presence a
black waiter.
"Has the Dragon returned?" asked Jaspar.
"Yes, sar, jus got in, Massa."
"Is there any person in the house who went up in her?"
"Yes, massa, one gemman in de office."
"Who is he?"
"Massa--massa--" and the darkey scratched his head, to stimulate his
memory, which act instantly brought the name to his mind.
"Massa _Lousey_."
"Mister what, you black scoundrel!"
"Yes, sar,--Massa Lousey; dat's de name."
"Lousey?" repeated Jaspar.
"Stop bit," said the waiter, a new idea penetrating his cranium. "Dar
Lousey, dat's de name, for sartin."
"Dalhousie," responded Jaspar. "Give my compliments to Mr. Dalhousie,
and ask him to oblige me with a few moments' conversation in this room."
"Yes, sar;" and the waiter retired, muttering, "Dar Lousey."
The Dragon was a small steamer, which had been sent, on the intelligence
of a "blow up," to obtain the particulars for the press, and render
assistance to the survivors.
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