The Hour and the Man Part 27

"I know of nothing the matter. The trompettes have been by this morning; and they say that the Commander-in-chief is here: so there will be nothing the matter. There was some talk last night, Pierre said-- some fright about to-day. But L'Ouverture is come; and it will be all right now, you know."

"You know nothing about it, child--teazing one with your buzzing, worrying humming-birds! Go and get my coffee, and send Pierre to me."

"The birds will come with me, I dare say, if I go by the balcony. I will take them away."

"No, no. Don't lose time with them. Let them be. Go and send Pierre."

When Euphrosyne returned with the coffee, she found, as Pierre had found before her, Monsieur Revel so engrossed in looking through his spectacles at the water-jar, as to have forgotten what he had to ask and to say.

"You will find the bath ready whenever you want it, grandpapa," said Euphrosyne, as she placed the little tray before him: "and it is a sweet airy morning."

"Ay; I must make haste up, and see what is to be done. It is not safe to lie and rest in one's bed, in this part of the world." And he made haste to stir his coffee with his trembling hands.

"Oh, you have often said that--almost ever since I can remember--and here we are, quite safe still."

"Tell the truth, child. How dare you say that we have been safe ever since you remember?"

"I said 'almost,' grandpapa. I do not forget about our being in the woods--about--but we will not talk of that now. That was all over a long time ago; and we have been very safe since. The great thing of all is, that there was no L'Ouverture then, to take care of us. Now, you know, the Commander-in-chief is always thinking how he can take the best care of us."

"'No L'Ouverture then!' One would think you did not know what and where Toussaint was then. Why, child, your poor father was master over a hundred such as he."

"Do you think they were like him? Surely, if they had been like him, they would not have treated us as they did. Afra says she does not believe, anybody like him ever lived."

"Afra is a pestilent little fool."

"Oh, grandpapa!"

"Well, well! She is a very good girl in her way; but she talks about what she does not understand. She pretends to judge of governors of the colony, when her own father cannot govern this town, and she never knew Blanchelande! Ah! if she had known Blanchelande, she would have seen a man who understood his business, and had spirit to keep up the dignity and honour of the colony. If that sort of rule had gone on till now, we should not have had the best houses in the island full of these black upstarts; nor a mulatto governor in this very town."

"And then I should not have had Afra for a friend, grandpapa."

"You would have been better without, child. I do not like to see you for ever with a girl of her complexion, though she is the governor's daughter. There must be an end of it--there shall be an end of it. It is a good time now. There is a reason for it to-day. It is time you made friends of your own complexion, child; and into the convent you go--this very day."

"Oh, grandpapa, you don't mean that those nuns are of my complexion!

Poor pale creatures! I would not for the world look like them: and I certainly shall, if you put me there. I had much rather look like Afra than like sister Benoite, or sister Cecile. Grandpapa! you would not like me to look like sister Benoite?"

"How do I know, child? I don't know one from another of them."

"No, indeed! and you would not know me by the time I had been there three months. How sorry you would be, grandpapa, when you asked for me next winter, to see all those yellow-faced women pa.s.s before you, and when the yellowest of all came, to have to say, 'Can this be my poor Euphrosyne!'"

Monsieur Revel could not help laughing as he looked up at the girl through his spectacles. He pinched her cheek, and said that there was certainly more colour there than was common in the West Indies; but that it must fade, in or out of the convent, by the time she was twenty; and she had better be in a place where she was safe. The convent was the only safe place.

"You have often said that before," replied she, "and the time has never come yet. And no more it will now. I shall go with Afra to the cacao-gathering at Le Zephyr, as I did last year. Oh, that sweet cool place in the Mornes du Chaos! How different from this great ugly square white convent, with nothing that looks cheerful, and nothing to be heard but teaching, teaching, and religion, religion, for ever."

"I advise you to make friends among the sisters, however, Euphrosyne; for there you will spend the next few years."

"I will not make friends with anything but the poor mocking-bird. I have promised Afra not to love anybody instead of her; but she will not be jealous of the poor bird. It and I will spend the whole day in the thicket, mocking and pining--pining and mocking. The sisters shall not get a word out of me--not one of them. I may speak to old Raphael now and then, that I may not forget how to use my tongue; but I vow that poor bird shall be my only friend."

"We shall see that. We shall see how long a giddy child like you can keep her mocking-bird tone in the uproar that is coming upon us! What will you do, child, without me, when the people of this colony are cutting one another's throats over my grave? What will become of you when I am gone?"

"Dear grandpapa, before that comes the question, What will you do without me? What will become of you when I am gone into that dull place? You know very well, grandpapa, that you cannot spare me."

The old man's frame was shaken with sobs. He put his thin hands before his face, and the tears trickled between his fingers. Euphrosyne caressed him, saying, "There! I knew how it would be. I knew I should never leave you. I never will leave you. I will bring up your coffee every morning, and light your lamp every night, as long as you live."

As she happened to be looking towards the door, she saw it opening a little upon its noiseless hinges, and a hand which she knew to be Pierre's beckoning to her. Her grandfather did not see it. She withdrew herself from him with a sportive kiss, ordered him to rest for a while, and think of nothing but her humming-birds, and carried the tray out of the room.

Pierre was there, waiting impatiently with a note from Afra.

"I did not bring it in, Mademoiselle," said he, "because I am sure there is something amiss. A soldier brought the note; and he says he has orders to stay for my master's commands."

Afra's note told what this meant. It was as follows:--

"Dearest Euphrosyne,

"Do not be frightened. There is time, if you come directly. There is no danger, if you come to us. The cultivators are marching hither over the plain. It is with the whites that they are angry; so you had better make yourselves secure with us. The soldier who brings this will escort Monsieur Revel and you this little way through the streets: but you must lose no time. We are sorry to hurry your grandfather; but it cannot be helped. Come, my dearest, to your

"Afra Raymond."

Pierre saw his young lady's face turn as pale as any nun's, as she glanced over this note.

"The carriage, Pierre! Have it to the door instantly."

"With your leave. Mademoiselle, the soldier says no French carriages will be safe in the streets this morning."

"Oh, mercy! A chair, then. Send for a chair this moment. The soldier will go for it--ask him as a favour. They will not dare to refuse one to a governor's guard. Then come, and dress your master, and do not look so grave, Pierre, before him."

Pierre went, and was met at the door by a servant with another note. It was--

"Do not come by the street, dearest Euphrosyne. The nuns will let you through their garden, into our garden alley, if you can only get your grandfather over the balcony. My two messengers will help you; but they are much wanted:--so make haste.

"A.E."

"Make the soldiers sling an arm-chair from the balcony, Pierre; and send one of them round into the convent garden, to be ready to receive us there. The abbess will have the gate open to the Government-house alley. Then come, and dress your master; and leave it to me to tell him everything."

"Likely enough," muttered Pierre; "for I know nothing of what is in those notes myself."

"And I do not understand what it is all about," said Euphrosyne, as she returned to her grandfather.

He had fallen into a light doze, lulled by the motion and sound of the humming-birds. Euphrosyne kissed his forehead, to rouse him, and then told him gaily that it was terribly late--he had no idea how late it was--he must get up directly. The bath! no; there must be no bath to-day. There was not time for it; or, at least, he must go a little ride first. A new sort of carriage was getting ready--

She now looked graver, as Pierre entered. She said, that while Pierre dressed him, she would put up some clothes for a short visit to Government-house.

Monsieur Revel, being now alarmed, Euphrosyne admitted that some confusion in the streets was expected, and that the Governor and Afra thought that their friends would be most quiet at the back of Government-house.

To her consternation, Monsieur Revel suddenly refused to stir a step from his own dwelling. He would not be deceived into putting himself and his child into the hands of any mulattoes upon earth, governors or other. Not one of his old friends, in Blanchelande's time, would have countenanced such an act; and he would not so betray his colour and his child. He had rather die on his own threshold.

"You must do as you please about that, sir," said Pierre; "but, for Mademoiselle Euphrosyne, I must say, that I think it is full early for her to die--and when she might be safe too!"

"Oh, grandpapa! I cannot let you talk of our dying," cried Euphrosyne, her cheeks bathed in tears. "Indeed I will not die--nor shall you either. Besides, if that were all--"