The First Book of Samuel - SAREJESS (chrysanthemum read aloud TXT) 📗

looking at his guests enjoying themselves when he happened to notice William Longmont standing at the end of the bar drinking whiskey with a cynical smile on his face. Samuel briefly wondered what the smile was about but did not have any time to reflect on it as just then his attention was distracted by a guest asking for a drink at the bar. Once he had served the customer he looked toward the end of the bar but William was nowhere to be found.

The reporter from the Boston Globe came up to him and said “Quite a good turn out for your party Mr. Ferreira!” “Why yes indeed sir, it makes me very happy to see the jewels of Bostonian society having such a good time at my little inn.” replied Samuel. “Did you get any good quotes from the people from Knob Hill on the food?” asked Samuel. “Sure did Sir but you will have to wait for Monday morning’s edition to hear what they said” replied the reporter, a small man with a flaming red beard and green tweed jacket. “Damn and I did so want to know before I went to bed,” said Samuel in half serious jest. “Ah yes sir” replied the reporter “You want to put me on the spot with my editor?” “Forget it” said Samuel placing a glass of whiskey before the reporter. “Ah a bribe” said the reporter continuing in a playful mood. “You won’t get any thing out of me” said the reporter swallowing the drink in one gulp.

Samuel moved on to serve other guests. He noticed that the two men who were seated near William's table were no longer there, neither was William anywhere to be seen. The evening’s activities were drawing to a close; Samuel ordered nightcaps for all the guests in the room before taking a glass and tapping it lightly bringing the room to a gradual silence. Once the room was silent Samuel began to speak. He spoke of the events of the year in the city of Boston, occasionally getting a laugh for some remark then continuing. He spoke of more serious matters, which had befallen the city in the last few months he reminded the guests that there were poor people who had lost everything in the fire a few months earlier. Samuel said he hoped that they would all give generously when asked to subscribe to local charities to alleviate the suffering of these poor people. In the mean time he wished all his guests a Merry Christmas as it was now twelve O'clock and the city's churches bells began to toll.

The band began to play as the guests wished each other a Merry Christmas before getting their coats and hats. As carriages and buggies were brought to the door, guests began to depart. There was still no sign of the two strange guests or William Longmont. When the last guests had left and the remaining stragglers had gone off to bed Samuel settled down in his office with a glass of brandy and a book of figures working quickly he determined exactly what profit he had made for the evening. At some stage he fell asleep over the book, waking when some one began banging on the front door of the inn; Samuel hurried through to the front room. Opening the door he found William with a bloodied face and outer coat. Quickly he helped William Longmont into the inn settling him on a couch and hurrying off to get some water and a cloth to wipe away the blood.
Samuel helped William across the threshold and over to the bar. Quickly he poured a tumbler of whiskey which William drank greedily. “May I ask why you are in such a state?” inquired Samuel. “Yes you may, and the short answer my friend is those two rogues got the better of me. Shortly after 11 o clock they left the party with a small hold all. I followed at distance to see what they were up to. It was not long before I found out they broke into the Smithson Industrial Bank on De-winter Street via a small back window. Waited until they reemerged just after mid-night I confronted them. Fits-Patrick shot me through the arm. See here how it is ruined?” William said as he placed his right hand on the bar. Samuel saw a large hole in the sleeve of William's over coat. There were powder burns. “I did how ever manage to wound him with my swordstick. Ah yes it has done me good service once again so now they are on the run.”

“I can only assume that they are well on their way to Canada or somewhere else the 1 o'clock steamer for Alaska left shortly after, I can only assume they were aboard” ended William. “Well my friend I don't think that you will see them again” said Samuel. “What sir do you think I am going to let them get away so easily? I am leaving on the next steamer going north. I have time on my side, they do not. I have not lived this long to let my prey escape. Besides no one shoots me and gets away. I merely came to collect my kit before setting out and to bid you Adieu my friend. I will see you again I am sure. Right now I must be off” said William. Once William had left the inn and Samuel had retired for the night and the inn had grown silent once more Samuel lay in his large double bed, his mind was taken back to the previous time he had seen William Longmont. It had been in the winter of 1675 it had been a harsh winter in Italy that year; the crops had not been good that year. Buying provisions for the Cantina Santa Maria the inn that Samuel had owned during that period had become increasingly difficult. One day in that year he had made a trip to Rome to buy wine from a merchant who was reputed to be a very difficult man but who supplied a good selection of foreign wines.

On arriving at the wine merchants store house he had been shown into the room which the merchant used as a business office. Here he was confronted by William Longmont who had been in the business for a number of years. On renewing their friendship of nearly a hundred and fifty years earlier they had settled down to sampling some of the wines which William had in his cellar. A servant had brought Cheese and fruit, as the afternoon drew to a close they spoke of old times, of what they had been up to since they had last seen each other. The wine was good and so was the company, the later it grew the drunker they grew. Eventually they were so drunk that they had been singing old songs from the third century which they had both picked up while in the middle east, the language was a mixture of Aramaic, old Latin and Arabic.

Finally they had dropped off to sleep in the office, waking the following day when it was already light Samuel left the wine merchant’s shop knowing he had now secured a ready supply of fine wines from France and Spain. This supply would continue for a few more years before Samuel left Italy for the New World.

Samuel fell asleep thinking of the days in Rome. When he woke just before dawn he could hear the servants in the kitchen getting things ready for Christmas Day. He made his way to the kitchen where he found old Joel stoking the fire. “Morning Joel and a Happy Christmas to you” said Samuel. “Morning Master Lord blesses you this fine Christmas morning” replied Joel rubbing the stub of a beard. “Have you heard Master that there has been a bank robbing in De-Winter Street?” said Joel. They say there was a shooting but three people got away, there was a lot of blood but they will not get far. There were three men their foot prints lay all over the back alley way behind the bank the police were called after someone saw the men running from the alley way.”


The whole city was abuzz with the news of the break-in at the Smithson Bank. The Boston Globe had printed the story on the front page of its Monday morning issue. The owners of the bank, the brothers Alfred and Albert Smithson had offered a ten thousand-dollar reward leading to the arrest and recovery of money and bonds that had been stolen from the bank. The editorial of the Boston Globe had even printed a picture of the alleyway the blood showing quite clearly on the dirty snow near the window. According to the reporter there had been three men involved in the robbery with one or other falling out happening when they left the bank. The sheriff was now looking into the possibility of finding any one who might have seen one or more injured men or any doctor who might have treated anyone on Christmas Day with unexplained gunshot or stab wounds so far no one had come forward.

Samuel lay the broadsheet down, looking at the door it was quite early in the day the street sounds came to him muffled footsteps of horses and the sound of a coach driving past. The inn was quiet, it had been three days since the Christmas bash, Samuel had risen early to buy the paper to see what the society pages of the Boston Globe had said about his establishment. The review had been quite good, the reporter glossing over the descriptions of the Food roast turkey, Slices of silvered beef, and lamb shanks with mint jelly then there was a long interval over which the reporter had spoken about the various sea food dishes. He waxed lyrical about the cod in white wine sauce, the oysters served on a bed of icicles with Tabasco and pepper sauce. The final part of the review was saved for the Salmon and calamari combination in a particular peach jam and red wine sauce, which in the reporters mind was most probably the best dish he had tasted in a long time. The article went on to describe the history of the inn, finally ending by complementing Mr. Sam Ferreira, long time resident of Boston for running a fine establishment.

Samuel was pleased with the review however his carefully planned bash had been ruined by the robbery and this displeased him. By now he reasoned the steamer carrying the two perpetrators of the crime might already be nearing the Alaskan territory.

It was going to be another busy week for him. He had stock to purchase and things to organize he was planning a new year’s celebration the following Saturday there were going to be fireworks over the harbor. For the old years eve celebrations, even now there were men who the city had designated to act as fire marshals during the event in view of the recent fire that had burned part of the city. It was time that he went for a walk, Samuel decided putting on his coat and top hat. The direction he took led him towards the harbor to a dingy side street where the poorest of the poor lived. He knocked at a door of a small house and was admitted by a woman in her late thirties. From the looks of her life had not been kind. ”Well Martha how was your Christmas?” asked Samuel “It was better then most people who live in skid row thanks to you” she replied pouring him a cup of coffee. Samuel took the cup noticing that it was