The Seige Of Dragonard Hill Part 19

Lulu said, 'Like Miss Imogen? Her going to Heaven? Do you think Miss Imogen went to Heaven. . . Mam'selle Posey?'

Posey shot the skinny girl a nasty glance. The death of Imogen Abdee, the slaughter conducted by the patrollers, was not mentioned on Dragonard Hill. Imogen's remains 237.

lay in the cemetery at the foot of the driveway and the matter was closed. Peter Abdee did not press for charges of murder. He saw that no amount of vindictive courtbat-tling could repair the damage done, perhaps done a long time before the patrollers rode up the hill that night.

Lulu now pressed Posey, 'You ever done travelling?'

'I... I... I... have never stepped foot off this place. Not since I come here.'

'You went to Treetop House last Christmas when Master Peter sent over presents.'

'That? Well... I was with Master Peter then, wasn't I? I was not alone. I never gone travelling alone from this place. Never!'

Posey had feared reprisals when Claudia's body had been found near the crossroads. The blame was put on highwaymen, thieves, or runaway slaves, though, and because the patrollers had not been doing their dutiful job that night on the public roads, they did not pursue a possible suspect who might have murdered-butchered-Claudia Goss. Posey also was relieved that his dreams were not haunted by a b.l.o.o.d.y spectre as he had feared they might be. Claudia Goss was not coming back to spook him. She had done her evilness in life. He eventually saw his deed as the will of the Lord when he learned that Claudia Goss's two slaves, Jack and Mary, had gone to live at Treetop House until a relative could claim them as hereditary property. Everyone said that no relative would ever step forward, though, that Grouse Hollow would probably grow completely over with weeds, that Jack and Mary would live peacefully at Treetop House.

The only thing which confused Posey was that the new overseer, Master Lloy, had not stayed here at Dragonard Hill. Posey understood why Veronica would want to go home, and suspected that she might never come South again after her horrible experience that night with the drunken patrollers. Posey joined in thanksgiving that the patrollers had not had time that night to molest Veronica and Belladonna. Likewise, everyone agreed that Master Peter was kind to grant Belladonna her freedom and give her money to start a new life in Boston.

'I wonder if she'll stay there? Master Lloy, he escorted her and Veronica up North. He said he himself had business 238.

to settle there. Now, I know the world is changing, that a n.i.g.g.e.r. . . might, just might possibly have business to tend to in the North. But do you think Master Lloy might get sweet on that Belladonna gal?' Posey turned his head and looked at Lulu. Focusing on the young girl, though, and realizing to whom he was directing such a deep question, he sat bolt upright on his stool and said, 'Why I'm asking you for? You nothing but a piccaninny.' 'Piccaninnies grow up ... Mam'selle Posey!' Standing up from the stool, Posey said, 'Well, don't you be in too much of a hurry to grow-up, black girl, because once you grows up you gots lots of decisions to make. Like me.

'What decisions you have to make, Mam'selle Posey?' Posey was not listening. He was standing by a window, looking down the colonnade toward the main house. He said, 'Shame . . . It's a shame. That fine house got less people in it then that old, . . boneyard down at the bottom of the hill. Shame. n.o.body's in the big house no more. Just poor, poor Master Peter. Shame of it.'

Peter Abdee was pleased that Chloe St Cloud was happily settled at Greenleaf. He still did not understand why Vicky had sent her from New Orleans but, when the octoroon girl had presented the clipping from the 'New Orleans Bee', and said that she had been hired by the Condesa Veradaga to be a tutor to young David Abdee, Peter could not send her away.

After the troubles at Dragonard Hill, Peter saw the wisdom of David returning to Greenleaf. He also saw the advantages of having a tutor for him until he was strong enough to go away to military school. But, still, Peter thought that it was more like Veronica than Vicky to send a tutor.

Deciding that, in her way, Vicky might be trying to cover-up for some troubles she had caused, Peter accepted the girl's presence, and took advantage of Barry's growing dissatisfaction with Greenleaf. He bought the land and the house from Barry, giving him cash to go to Mexico with the quadroon girl, Gigi, and letters of introductions to banks 239.

on which he could draw future payments. Peter also gave Barry a firm promise that, whenever he wanted to return to Louisiana, he would always have a home at Greenleaf.

Lloy's offer to escort Veronica to Boston still baffled Peter. He saw that Veronica and Lloy became close friends on the days following the disaster at Dragonard Hill. He knew their new relations.h.i.+p was more than friends.h.i.+p. It was as if Veronica had been waiting to meet him. They spoke at length about Royal, even discussing names of banks and inst.i.tutions in Boston which Peter did not even know Lloy was aware of, and they rejoiced that a certain letter had not been delivered here from Treetop House. Their rapport became so enthusiastic, so secretive, that Peter was tempted to ask them if they were involved with something covert. .. like Abolitionism. But for some reason he checked his question. He even put the thought out of his head. He concentrated instead on filling out manumission papers for Belladonna, wis.h.i.+ng her to leave Louisiana with Veronica and Lloy.

Although Lloy had suggested that the black man, Ham, replace him as overseer, Peter rejected the idea. He already had a plan for him-but, more specifically, a plan for Ham's wife, Maybelle. If David and Chloe St Cloud were to live at Greenleaf, then they would need someone from Dragonard Hill to look after them. Maybelle had been a part-time nurse to David as an infant. The boy loved her. Peter wanted Maybelle to be the housekeeper and main cook at Greenleaf whilst Ham performed the job there as overseer. They would live in the main house at Greenleaf; their son, Tim, would live there, too, and be a playmate for David. The boys were the same age.

The idea thrilled Veronica and, as she hugged her father, profusely thanking him for such generosity, he said, 'Do not act as if I'm . . . freeing them!' He laughed.

'No, Papa, but-' Veronica took a deep sigh, saying, 'Maybelle will have a table! Forks and knives' Clean linen sheets..."

Peter interpreted Veronica's excitement over cutlery and sheets as a womanly concern. He proceeded with his plan, though, and on this warm summer Sunday night as he cantered along the road leading to Dragonard Hill, he thought that, indeed, everyone did seem very happy at 240.

Greenleaf. Young David no longer asked about his dead mother, nor why those men on horseback had been there that night when they came home and found Aunt Veronica tied to the pillar. Maybelle asked Peter that afternoon if he had heard from Vicky and, when he said that he hadn't, she said, 'When you do, Master Peter, Sir, tell her to give a little message please to that Malou woman of hers. Tell her to tell that Malou woman that us black people here are going to make it just fine. We thank her for her kind words when she was here but we're finding our own ways.'

Still impressed that the black people from Town had come to his family's rescue as soon as they could on that nightmarish night, Peter thanked Maybelle and thought better than to press her for an exact explanation of her message to Malou.

As he rode home tonight, though, he lifted his head at the violet-tinted sky and thought about Maybelle's message. The horse's hooves rose and fell softly on the public road as Peter realized that, indeed, it was the black people who had stopped the white patrollers. With no one helping them but Lloy. And if any black person in the world had reason to hate the Abdees, to see them all destroyed, it would be Monk's son . . .

Peter wondered if his belief in black people-the convictions which other white people called criminal and un-gentlemanly-was not so wrong after all.

True, he was working hard these days, performing the task of overseer himself at Dragonard Hill. But the work drained his body-and mind-of all energy. He fell onto bed at night, often going to sleep before he had removed his boots. He was close to the land again. Closer to his people than he had been for a long time. His only respite from work carne on Sunday, the time he rode to Greenleaf to visit David.

David. Peter saw that his son and heir would be a sensitive, perhaps even a retiring person. But it was too soon really to be certain how David Abdee would mature. Peter hoped that the vivacious Mademoiselle St Cloud would instill some of her liveliness into him.

Stopping his horse on the public road, Peter looked to his right at the white picket fence surrounding the family cemetery. He saw the two white granite angels, each guard- 24I.

ing one of his deceased wives, the mothers of his children. The mound of earth covering Imogen's grave was only just beginning to sprout tender gra.s.s.

Peter turned in his saddle and looked across the road at the gate announcing the name of his Sand. He took off his hat and, leaning forward onto his saddle horn with crossed-arms, he thought about the past.

Settling his hat quickly back onto his head, he decided to forget about the dead, the murdered, the disappeared. He would think only about the living, yet try to learn a lesson from those recent days quickly becoming more history of this land . . . The Siege of Dragonard Hill, THE END.