The Quadroon Part 15

The thought seemed to have summoned him; for at that moment the good doctor entered the room, and became the confidant of my wishes.

I had not misjudged him. His purse lay open upon the table; and I became his debtor for as much of its contents as I stood in need of.

"Very strange!" said he, "this desire of hurrying you off on the part of Monsieur Gayarre. There is something more in it than solicitude for the character of the lady. Something more: what can it all mean?"

The doctor said this partly in soliloquy, and as if searching his own thoughts for an answer.

"I am almost a stranger to Mademoiselle Besancon," he continued, "else I should deem it my duty to know more of this matter. But Monsieur Gayarre is her guardian; and if he desire you to leave, it will perhaps be wiser to do so. _She may not be her own mistress entirely_. Poor thing! I fear there is debt at the bottom of the mystery; and if so, she will be more a slave than any of her own people. Poor young lady!"

Reigart was right. My remaining longer might add to her embarra.s.sments.

I felt satisfied of this.

"I am desirous to go at once, doctor."

"My barouche is at the gate, then. You can have a seat in it. I can set you down at the hotel."

"Thanks, thanks! the very thing I should have asked of you, and I accept your offer. I have but few preparations to make, and will be ready for you in a moment."

"Shall I step over to the house, and prepare Mademoiselle for your departure?"

"Be so kind. I believe Gayarre is now there?"

"No. I met him near the gate of his own plantation, returning home. I think she is alone. I shall see her and return for you."

The doctor left me, and walked over to the house. He was absent but a few minutes, when he returned to make his report. He was still further perplexed at what he had learnt.

Mademoiselle had heard from Gayarre, just an hour before, that _I had expressed my intention_ of removing to the hotel! She had been surprised at this, as I had said nothing about it at our late interview.

She would not hear of it at first, but Gayarre had used _arguments_ to convince her of the policy of such a step; and the doctor, on my part, had also urged it. She had at length, though reluctantly, consented.

Such was the report of the doctor, who further informed me that she was waiting to receive me.

Guided by Scipio, I made my way to the drawing-room. I found her seated; but upon my entrance she rose, and came forward to meet me with both hands extended. I saw that _she was in tears_!

"Is it true you intend leaving us, Monsieur?"

"Yes, Mademoiselle; I am now quite strong again. I have come to thank you for your kind hospitality, and say adieu."

"Hospitality!--ah, Monsieur, you have reason to think it cold hospitality since I permit you to leave us so soon. I would you had remained; but--" Here she became embarra.s.sed: "but--you are not to be a stranger, although you go to the hotel. Bringiers is near; promise that you will visit us often--in fact, every day?"

I need not say that the promise was freely and joyfully given.

"Now," said she, "since you have given that promise, with less regret I can say adieu!"

She extended her hand for a parting salute. I took her fingers in mine, and respectfully kissed them. I saw the tears freshly filling in her eyes, as she turned away to conceal them.

I was convinced she was acting under constraint, and against her inclination, else I should not have been allowed to depart. Hers was not the spirit to fear gossip or scandal. Some other _pressure_ was upon her.

I was pa.s.sing out through the hall, my eyes eagerly turning in every direction. Where was _she_? Was I not to have _even a parting word_!

At that moment a side-door was gently opened. My heart beat wildly as it turned upon its hinge. Aurore!

I dare not trust myself to speak aloud. It would have been overheard in the drawing-room. A look, a whisper, a silent pressure of the hand, and I hurried away; but the return of that pressure, slight and almost imperceptible as it was, fired my veins with delight; and I walked on towards the gate with the proud step of a conqueror.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

AURORE LOVES ME.

"_Aurore loves me_!"

The thought thus expressed was of younger date than the day of my removing to Bringiers from the plantation. A month had elapsed since that day.

The details of my life during that month would possess but little interest for you, reader; though to me every hour was fraught with hopes or fears that still hold a vivid place in my memory. When the heart is charged with love, every trifle connected with that love a.s.sumes the magnitude of an important matter; and thoughts or incidents that otherwise would soon be forgotten, hold a firm place in the memory. I could write a volume about my affairs of that month, every line of which would be deeply interesting to _me_, but not to _you_. Therefore I write it not; I shall not even present you with the journal that holds its history.

I continued to live in the hotel at Bringiers. I grew rapidly stronger.

I spent most of my time in rambling through the fields and along the Levee--boating upon the river--fis.h.i.+ng in the bayous--hunting through the cane-breaks and cypress-swamps, and occasionally killing time at a game of billiards, for every Louisiana village has its billiard salon.

The society of Reigart, whom I now called friend, I enjoyed--when his professional engagements permitted.

His books, too, were my friends; and from these I drew my first lessons in botany. I studied the _sylva_ of the surrounding woods, till at a glance I could distinguish every tree and its kind--the giant cypress, emblem of sorrow, with tall shaft shooting out of the apex of its pyramidal base, and crowned with its full head of sad dark foliage,-- sadder from its drapery of _tillandsia_; the "tupelo" (_Nyssa aquatica_), that nymph that loves the water, with long delicate leaves and olive-like fruit--the "persimmon," or "American lotus" (_Diospyros Virginiana_), with its beautiful green foliage and red date-plums--the gorgeous magnolia grandiflora, and its congener, the tall tulip-tree (_Liriodendron tulipifera_)--the water-locust (_Gleditschia monosperma_); and, of the same genus, the three-thorned honey-locust (_triacanthos_), whose light pinnated leaves scarce veil the sun--the sycamore (_plata.n.u.s_), with its smooth trunk and wide-reaching limbs of silvery hue--the sweet-gum (_Liquidambar styraciflua_), exuding its golden drops--the aromatic but sanitary "sa.s.safras" (_Laurus sa.s.safras_)--the "red-bay" (_Laurus Caroliniensis_), of cinnamon-like aroma--the oaks of many species, at the head of which might be placed that majestic evergreen of the southern forests, the "live-oak"

(_Quercus virens_)--the "red ash," with its hanging bunches of _samarce_--the shady nettle-tree (_Celtis cra.s.sifolia_), with its large cordate leaves and black drupes--and last, though not least interesting, the water-loving cotton-wood (_Populus angulata_). Such is the sylva that covers the alluvion of Louisiana.

It is a region beyond the limits of the true palm-tree; but this has its representative in the palmetto--"latanier" of the French--the _Sabal_ palm of the botanist, of more than one species, forming in many places the underwood, and giving a tropical character to the forest.

I studied the parasites--the huge llianas, with branches like tree-trunks, black and gnarled; the cane-vines, with pretty star-like flowers; the muscadine grape-vines, with their dark purple cl.u.s.ters; the _bignonias_, with trumpet-shaped corollas; the _smilacae_, among which are conspicuous the _Smilax rotundifolia_, the thick bamboo-briar, and the balsamic sarsaparilla.

Not less interesting were the vegetable forms of cultivation--the "staples" from which are drawn the wealth of the land. These were the sugar-cane, the rice-reed, the maize and tobacco-plants, the cotton shrub, and the indigo. All were new to me, and I studied their propagation and culture with interest.

Though a month apparently pa.s.sed in idleness, it was, perhaps, one of the most profitably employed of my life. In that short month I acquired more real knowledge than I had done during years of cla.s.sic study.

But I had learnt one fact that I prized above all, and that was, that _I was beloved by Aurore_!

I learnt it not from her lips--no words had given me the a.s.surance--and yet I was certain that it _was_ so; certain as that I lived. Not all the knowledge in the world could have given me the pleasure of that one thought!

"_Aurora loves me_!"

This was my exclamation, as one morning I emerged from the village upon the road leading to the plantation. Three times a week--sometimes even more frequently--I had made this journey. Sometimes I encountered strangers at the house--friends of Mademoiselle. Sometimes I found her alone, or in company with Aurore. The latter I could never find alone!

Oh! how I longed for that opportunity!

My visits, of course, were ostensibly to Mademoiselle. I dared not seek an interflow with the slave.

Eugenie still preserved the air of melancholy, that now appeared to have settled upon her. Sometimes she was even sad,--at no time cheerful. As I was not made the confidant of her sorrows, I could only guess at the cause. Gayarre, of course, I believed to be the fiend.

Of him I had learnt little. He shunned me on the road, or in the fields; and upon _his_ grounds I never trespa.s.sed. I found that he was held in but little respect, except among those who wors.h.i.+pped his wealth. How he was prospering in his suit with Eugenie I knew not. The world talked of such a thing as among the "probabilities"--though one of the strange ones, it was deemed. I had sympathy for the young Creole, but I might have felt it more profoundly under other circ.u.mstances. As it was, my whole soul was under the influence of a stronger pa.s.sion--my love for Aurore.

"Yes--Aurore loves me!" I repeated to myself as I pa.s.sed out from the village, and faced down the Levee road.