Littlepage Manuscripts: Satanstoe, The Chainbearer & The Redskins (Complete Edition). James Fenimore Cooper
I regard a fortune-teller’s, as a doubtful sort of society; therefore, I feel it to be a duty, to make one of this party.”
I do not know whether the Rev. Mr. Worden succeeded in deceiving himself; but, I very well know, he did not succeed in deceiving me. The fact was, he loved a frolic; and nothing made him happier, than to have an opportunity of joining in just such an adventure as that we were on. Judging from the position of her house, and the appearance of things in and around it, the business of Mother Doortje was not of the most lucrative sort. Dirt and poverty were two things not easily encountered, in Albany; and, I do not say, that we found very positive evidence of either, here; but there was less neatness than was usual in that ultra-tidy community; and, as for any great display of abundance, it was certainly not to be met with.
We were admitted by a young woman, who gave us to understand that Mother Doortje had a couple of customers, already; but she invited us to sit down in an outer room, promising that our turn should be the next. We did so, accordingly, listening, through a door that was a little ajar, with no small degree of curiosity, to what was passing within. I accidentally took a seat in a place that enabled me to see the legs of one of the fortune-teller’s customers; and, I thought, immediately, that the striped stockings were familiar to me; when the nasal, and very peculiar intonation of Jason, put the matter out of all doubt. He spoke in an earnest manner; which rendered him a little incautious; while the woman’s tones were low and mumbled. Notwithstanding, we all overheard the following discourse—
“Well, now, Mother Dorrichay,” said Jason, in a very confiding sort of way, “I’ve paid you well, for this here business, and I want to know if there is any chance, for a poor man, in this colony, who doesn’t want for friends, or, for that matter, merit?”
“That’s yourself” mumbled the female voice—in the way one announces a discovery—“Yes, I see, by the cards, that your question applies to yourself. You are a young man, that wants not for friends; and you have merit! You have friends that you deserve; the cards tells me that!”
“Well, I’ll not deny the truth of what you assert; and, I must say, Dirck, it is a little strange, this woman, who never saw me before, should know me so well—my very natur’, as it might be. But, do you think, I shall do well to follow up the affair I am now on, or that I had best give it up?”
“Give up nothing,” answered the oracle, in a very oracular manner, shuffling the cards as she spoke; “no, give up nothing, but keep all you can. That is the way to thrive, in this world.”
“By the Hokey, Dirck, she gives good advice, and I think I shall follow it! But how about the land, and the mill-seat—or, rather, how about the particular things I’m thinking about?”
“You are thinking of purchasing—yes, the cards say purchasing; or is it ‘disposing—’”
“Why, as I’ve got none to sell, it can’t very well be disposing, Mother.”
“Yes, I’m right—this Jack of Clubs settles the matter—you are thinking of buying some land—Ah! there’s water running down-hill; and here I see a pond—Why, you are thinking of buying a mill-seat.”
“By the Hokey!—Who would have thought this, Dirck!”
“Not a mill; no, there is no mill built; but a mill-seat. Six, king, three and an ace; yes, I see how it is—and you wish to get this mill-seat at much less than its real value. Much less; not less, but much less.”
“Well, this is wonderful! I’ll never gainsay fortin-tellin’ ag’in!” exclaimed Jason. “Dirck, you are to say nothin’ of this, or think nothin’ of this—as it’s all in confidence, you know. Now, jist put in a last word, about the end of life, Mother, and I’ll be satisfied. What you have told me about my fortin and earnin’s must be true, I think, for my whole heart is in them; but I should like to know, after enjoying so much wealth and happiness as you’ve foretold, what sort of an end I am to make of it?”
“An excellent end—full of grace, and hope, and Christian faith. I see here, something that looks like a clergyman’s gown—white sleeves—book under the arm—”
“That can’t be me. Mother, as I’m no lover of forms, but belong to the platform.”
“Oh! I see how it is, now; you dislike Church of England people, and could throw dirt at them. Yes, yes—here you are—a presbyterian deacon, and one that can lead in a private meeting, on an occasion.”
“Come, Dirck, I’m satisfied—let us go; we have kept Mother Doorichaise long enough, and I heard some visiters come in, just now. Thank you, mother—thank you, with all my heart; I think there must be some truth in this fortin-tellin’ after all!”
Jason now arose, and walked out of the house, without even deigning to look at us—and consequently without our being recognised. But Dirck lingered a minute, not yet satisfied with what had been already told him.
“Do you really think I shall never be married, Mother?” he asked, in a tone that sufficiently betrayed the importance he attached to the answer. “I wish to know that particularly, before I go away!”
“Young man,” answered the fortune-teller in an oracular manner; “what has been said, has been said! I cannot make fortunes, but only reveal them. You have heard that Dutch blood is in your veins; but you live in an English colony. Your king is her king; while she is your queen—and you are not her master. If you can find a woman of English blood that has a Dutch heart, and has no English suitors, go forward, and you will succeed; but, if you do not, remain as you are until time shall end. These are my words, and these are my thoughts; I can say no more.”
I heard Dirck sigh—poor fellow! he was thinking of Anneke—and he passed through the outer room without once raising his eyes from the floor. He left Mother Doortje, as much depressed in spirits, as Jason had left her elated; the one looking forward to the future with a selfish and niggardly hope, while the other regarded it with a feeling as forlorn as the destruction of all his youthful fancies could render any view of his after-life. The reader may feel disposed to smile at the idea of Dirck Van Valkenburgh’s possessing youthful fancies—regarding the young man in the quiet, unassuming manner in which he has hitherto been portrayed by me; but it would be doing great injustice to his heart and feelings, to figure him to the mind, as a being without deep sensibilities. I have always supposed that this interview with Mother Doortje had a lasting influence on the fortunes of poor Dirck; nor am I at all certain its effects did not long linger in the temperament of some others that might be named.
As our turns had now come, we were summoned to the presence of this female soothsayer. It is unnecessary to describe the apartment in which we found Mother Doortje. It had nothing unusual in it, with the exception of a raven, that was hopping about the floor, and which appeared to be on the most familiar terms with its mistress. Doortje, herself, was a woman of quite sixty, wrinkled, lean, and hag-like; and, I thought, some care had been taken, in her dress, to increase the effect of this, certainly her natural appearance. Her cap was entirely of black muslin; though her dress itself, was grey. The eye of this woman was of the colour of her gown; and it was penetrating, restless, and deep-seated. Altogether, she looked the character well.
On our entrance, after saluting the fortune-teller, each of us laid a French crown on the table at which she was seated. This coin had become quite current among us, since the French troops had penetrated into our colony; and it was even said they purchased supplies with it, from certain of our own people. As we had paid the highest price ever given, for these glimpses into futurity, we thought ourselves entitled to have the pages of the sealed book freely opened to us.
“Do you wish to see me together; or shall I communicate with one at a time?” demanded Doortje, in her husky, sepulchral voice; which, it struck me, obtained its peculiar tones partly from nature, and partly from art.
It was settled that she should commence with Mr. Worden; but, that all might remain in the room the whole time. While we were talking