No Good Deed 56

We took our leave of the tea room. I made as if to settle the account, but was waved away by the ancient crone, Miss Porter,

'Anythin' for the Freedom Train, Sir.'

At that moment, it occurred to me that there might be some small advantage to involving myself with the Underground Railroad after all.

It was a short walk to the dock side. Miss Shepherd took her leave of me at the blue riband berth where a leviathan of a river boat was moored. It seemed quite as large as the Natchez. Naturally, the Enterprise was not in a prime position, rather it was berthed at the extreme end of the riverside dock, whence it was approached by means of a long and precarious jetty. Once on board, I repaired to my cabin. I was in need of some relief, and the Enterprise's manifest appeared not to offer much opportunity of such. A further dalliance with Cattermole was not to be countenanced. Besides, there was nothing so attractive as the unknown and new. However, a turn around the deck provided no prospect of sport of any kind. There was little alternative but to return to my cabin and make provision for my own entertainment. I resolved that when the Enterprise finally reached New Orleans, my first port of call would not be the Mint, but an altogether more lively establishment.

My solitude was interrupted by a fierce knocking at the door of my state-room. A male voice, over-modulated with excitement and betraying the accents of the riverside communities, bellowed,

'Northrup! Northrup! Quickly!'

This put paid to my pleasant, if solitary, diversions. I rearranged my attire and opened the door.

A man of low stature and mean attire stood without, fist raised in the act of renewing its assault on the cheap deal of my door.

'Northrup?', his voice had settled into an even if dull pitch.

'That would depend,' I said.

'This here is Northrup's cabin! If you ain't Northrup then what in tarnation are you doin' in it?'

I made as if to shut the door, but the fellow had inveigled his foot between it and the jamb - thereby thwarting me at some pain to himself - judging by the yelp he gave. Boredom and caprice had ever provoked unwise impulses on my part, and perhaps the decision to admit to the name of Northrup at that point was one of them.