The Rose of Old St. Louis

by Mary Dillon

  CHAPTER XIII

  "A PRETTY BOY!"

  "And to be wroth with one we love Doth work like madness in the brain."

  At the door of the house, Black Hawk and Yorke branched off to theservants' quarters, and I followed them to see what had become ofFatima, for I had left her standing beside the gallery when I ran backto meet the savage. I found her standing patiently by the stable doorwaiting to be let in, and she whinnied with delight as she heard mystep. I called to Yorke to come and take care of her (for I was inhaste to get back to the house), and at the sound of my voice Leoncame rushing, in great bounds. Together we walked down to the well,that I might wash the blood from my face before presenting myself tothe ladies. The well was in a low part of the grounds, some littledistance from the house, and it was while I was vigorously splashingmy hands and face that I heard a low growl from Leon. I looked upquickly and thought I caught the glimpse of a gun, and instinctively Isprang to one side, that if any one was aiming at me I might cheat himof his aim. At the same moment Leon sprang with a terrible roarstraight at the spot where I had fancied I saw the metal shining andwhere now I was sure I heard the rustle of some one fleeing. Ifollowed quickly after, for the thought of any human creature in thepower of that great beast in rage was awful to me. Enemy or no, Iwould if possible save him from being torn to pieces by a furious dog.

  As I ran, I called to him as I had heard his mistress call, and inFrench, lest he might not understand English:

  "A bas, Leon! Tais-toi, mon ange!" But the words had no meaning forhim in my gruff voice: it was the soft music of his mistress's toneshe understood and obeyed. I heard another furious roar, a wild shriekas of a creature in mortal fear or pain, and then a shot. I was on thespot almost before the shot had ceased to ring in my ears. There layLeon on the white snow, a dark mass writhing in what I feared was adeath-struggle, and above him stood the chevalier, his smoking pistolin his hand. I knew as soon as I saw him in Indian costume that he wasthe savage who had been the foremost of his band, who had followed usso closely and had disappeared when I had gone to seek him. It was inthe doctor's garden he had disappeared and lain in hiding toaccomplish the capture or execute a revenge later.

  My own pistol was in my hand, and I covered him with it. In thatmoment of rage when Leon, whom I had learned to love and who lovedme,--Leon, _her_ dog,--great, beautiful, tried and trusty companionand friend,--lay dying from a shot from that villain's hand: in thatmoment of rage I came near putting an end at once and forever to alife that I believed could never be anything but a curse to any mortalassociated with it. But the words of Pelagie rang in my ears andstayed my hand:

  "If it is in your power, save the chevalier!"

  His own pistol was empty and he knew himself to be at my mercy, andthat his life was worth no more than the snuffing out of a candle;yet, to do him justice, he held his ground and returned my gaze asfearlessly as he might have done had we stood with drawn swords, eachready for the thrust and parry.

  The old moon had but lately risen, and, hanging low in the easternsky, her level rays fell full on the chevalier's face. It was whiteenough, but that might have been the effect of her sickly lightreflected from the ghostly snow; the daredevil in his eyes saidplainly as words, "Do your worst!"

  For a full half-minute I kept him covered, and for a full half-minutehe returned my steady gaze. Then suddenly there arose from the housethe noise of doors opening and shutting and the hurried tramp of feet.I knew what it meant. The shot had been heard and they were coming tosee what had happened. In a moment they would all be upon us,--mycaptain, the doctor, young Papin, yes, and Yorke and Black Hawktoo,--and there would be no possibility of saving the chevalier.

  He heard the noise, also, and he too knew what it meant. For oneinstant his eyes wavered and he looked as if he would turn and run,spite of my threatening pistol. Only for an instant, and then he drewhimself up proudly and threw back his head.

  "Fire, Monsieur," he said: "Why do you wait to let others share theglory?"

  For answer I lowered my pistol.

  "Monsieur," I said, "you richly deserve death, and for a moment youwere in deadly peril; but Mademoiselle Pelagie, whom you would baselywrong, pleads for you, and I spare your life at her intercession. Ifyou will turn and run directly south, there is a low place in thewall, and on this side a pile of logs by which you may easily scaleit, and almost directly opposite a narrow opening in the stockadethrough which you can force your way. But you must run for your life.I will remain here and do what I can to prevent pursuit; 'twill be noeasy matter to keep Black Hawk off your trail."

  Yet he did not start at once. He hesitated and his eyes fell; then helooked up quickly and half extended his hand.

  "Monsieur, you have been a generous foe; will you permit that I claspyour hand?"

  But a flood of memories rushed over me: his unswording me in thedance; his attempt to steal mademoiselle at the picnic and to poisonher mind against her friends; this second attempt, where it wasthrough no fault of his that we were not all dead men and mademoisellefar on her way to Cape Girardeau, in the power of savages and avillain more to be dreaded than they. I put my hand behind me and saidcoldly:

  "My hand belongs to my friends and to a foe whom I can honor.Monsieur, if you tarry longer, I will not be responsible for yourlife."

  Even in the pale light I could see the deep flush sweep his cheek andhis hand spring involuntarily to his sword-hilt. But he thought betterof it, turned, and strode quickly away toward the low spot in thestone wall.

  Then I had leisure to think of poor Leon. I knelt down beside him,where a dark pool was rapidly widening in the white snow. I could seewhere the red fountain gushed from a wound in his shoulder. It waspossible no vital part had been touched and he might be saved couldthat gushing fountain of life-blood be stanched. As it was, his eyeswere already glazing and his limbs stiffening and his breath coming inlong-drawn sobs, like a man in extremity. He was like to breathe hislast before even those hurrying feet, fast drawing near, should reachhim. I knew enough of surgery to know that I must apply a tightbandage above the wound; but where should I find a bandage? My flimsylace handkerchief was worse than useless. There was no help for it:the purple silken sword-sash, of which I was mightily proud, whoselong fringed ends, tied in a graceful knot, fell almost to my knees,must be sacrificed. I hastily unknotted it, and tenderly as possible,that I might not hurt the poor fellow more than needs must (for hisflesh quivered under my touch), I bound it round the shoulder and withall my strength drew it tight. Quickly the gushing fountain stayed,and then taking from my pocket a flask that my mother herself hadalways bid me carry, I forced a few drops into his fast-setting jaws.I knew I had done the right thing when, by the time they had all comeup, Leon had lifted his head and was feebly licking my hand.

  Their first exclamations of horror were followed by a hail ofquestions:

  "Who has done this?" "Where is he?" "Did you see him?" "How did ithappen?"

  To all their questions I made but one answer:

  "I heard the shot, and ran up to find Leon lying on the ground, dyingas I believed, and I have done what I could to help him."

  "And you have saved his life, or, at least, if he lives, he will haveonly you to thank," said Dr. Saugrain, who had been on his kneesbeside Leon, examining him.

  "You and your silken sash," he added, with the old twinkle of his eye."'Twas a noble sacrifice, and we all appreciate how great a one."

  The good doctor was ever twitting me on what he was pleased to call mylove of dress; but I made him no answer this time, for I was watchingBlack Hawk, who, with an Indian's cunning, had at once discovered thefootprints in the snow and that there was but one pair of them, andwas stealing off after them. That would never do.

  "Great Chief," I cried, "'tis no use following the Red Dog; he has hadtoo long a start. Will you help us to carry the dog of La Petite tothe house, where we can put him in a warm bed? 'Twill never do to lethim lie in the snow, and 'twill take us all to carr
y him comfortably."

  Black Hawk hesitated, and then grunted out an unwilling consent. Ithink it seemed to him somewhat beneath the dignity of a great chiefto carry a dog, and only because of his love for La Petite did hebring his mind to it. Nor did my little fiction about the Red Dogdeceive him.

  "No Red Dog," he grunted. "White Wolf! Trail fresh. Black Hawk bringhis scalp to La Petite."

  But the doctor saved me the necessity of arguing further with him.

  "Red Dog or White Wolf, Black Hawk," he said, "n'importe! 'Tis themastiff we must look to now. A sad day 'twould be for all of us shouldhe die; so lend a hand, vite, vite!"

  And this from the doctor, who had told me when I first met him hewould not have cared had I killed Leon, for he loved him not. Thetruth was that the doctor's devotion to Leon and Leon's to him weresecond only to the devotion of the dog and his mistress to each other,though, owing to the fact that Leon often stalked into his laboratoryat inopportune moments, sometimes spoiling the most delicateexperiment by poking his great inquisitive muzzle where it did notbelong, the doctor's patience was sometimes tried almost beyond thelimit of endurance.

  The doctor's exhortation, uttered in a sharp and clipping way peculiarto him when excited, was effectual. Very tenderly between us all wemanaged to lift the mastiff, and bore him to the negroes' quarters,where, in Narcisse's cabin, we made him a warm bed and washed anddressed his wound, and left him in a fair way to recovery.

  I was a little behind the others in reaching the house, for I haddelayed about some last arrangements for Leon's comfort, and then ithad been necessary that I should make a hasty toilet. Hands and facewere soiled with blood and grime (my purple velvets I feared wereruined forever, but I would not take the time to change them), and myhair was in much disorder. A hasty scrubbing of hands and face and aretying of my hair-ribbon to try to confine the rebellious yellowcurls that were tumbling all over my head, and that I so muchdespised, were all I permitted myself time for. Yet the few minutes Ihad lingered had been long enough for the launching of a thunderbolt,and I arrived just at the moment to see the havoc it had made.

  Mademoiselle in her ball-dress had thrown herself on her knees besidemadame, her white arms flung around madame's neck, her face buried inher motherly bosom, sobbing piteously. Madame gently stroked the darkcurls, saying over and over only the same words, "My child, my child,my poor child!" while the tears flowed down her own cheeks allunnoticed.

  The doctor stood beside her, patting as he could her white arm or darkcurls or tender cheek, and saying helplessly:

  "Voila, voila! Quoi donc! N'importe, n'importe!" and many other assenseless words, and growing every moment more hopeless and helplessas mademoiselle but wept the more bitterly.

  On the other side of the room stood young Papin, pale and rigid as ifcarved in stone, his eyes fixed on mademoiselle. I feared that for himtoo it had been a bitter blow, for I could not doubt that it was theannouncement of mademoiselle's departure on the morrow that hadcreated such consternation.

  The captain had discreetly turned his back and was looking out of thewindow. At the sound of my entrance he turned and beckoned me to him.

  "I fear 'twill never do," he whispered; "the maiden is breaking herheart."

  As if she had heard his words, mademoiselle lifted her head, andthough her face was tear-stained and her hair hanging in disheveledlocks about it, it was still the most beautiful face I had ever seen.

  At sight of me she flung her head back, and her eyes flashed. Sheextended one round white arm toward me, and in tones of bitter scornshe exclaimed:

  "It is you, you, Monsieur, who have done this! I will not leave myguardians and my home and go away with you! You would not hear of mygoing with the chevalier, yet he was a French gentleman, and notmerely a pretty boy!"

  Madame and the doctor tried in vain to stop her tirade. She was in afury; such blazing eyes, such crimson cheeks, and voice quivering withscorn. For a moment I was abashed and would have liked to slink out ofsight. But when she was so ungenerous as to call me "a pretty boy,"the fire returned to my heart, and I too drew myself up proudly.

  "Mademoiselle, listen to me!" I said sternly. "I have but a fewminutes ago spared the chevalier's life when I had him at my mercy,and shown him the way to escape from your friends here, who wererunning at the sound of his shot, and who, had they found him in Dr.Saugrain's grounds, would have made short work with him, I fear." (Icould not but note out of the corner of my eye while I was speakingthe quick start of young Papin at this announcement, the eagerinterest of my captain, and the doctor's look of dismay.)

  "I spared him, and I told him that I spared him, only because you hadbegged me to do my utmost to save him if he should ever fall into mypower. I cannot believe that he would have treated me or any one ofyour friends with the like courtesy. He is now well on his way to CapeGirardeau, but I think he is not gone so far but that he can be easilyovertaken. Black Hawk is ready to set out at once; indeed, it is withmuch difficulty that I have restrained him from so doing. Then, if youdesire it, and Dr. Saugrain and madame approve, you can return toFrance under the chevalier's protection."

  I lifted my hand as the doctor and his wife both started to speak.

  "Nay, my friends, permit that mademoiselle first tells me herpleasure."

  Then, as mademoiselle (whose eyes were no longer flashing with scorn,but regarding me with the same wonder I had seen in them before) didnot speak, I said, if possible with greater sternness:

  "Speak at once, mademoiselle: shall we send for the chevalier andbring him back? There is no time to be lost; every minute is carryinghim away from you as fast as a very good pair of legs for running cantake him."

  I hope I did not exceed the limits of courtesy in so speaking of thechevalier, but it was hard to resist a little fling at the "Frenchgentleman" to whom the "pretty boy" had been so disparaginglycompared. I caught a twinkle in the doctor's eye and a fleeting smileon young Papin's face and on my captain's, but I looked only atmademoiselle. She was meek enough now, but she no longer looked at me;her dark lashes were sweeping her cheek.

  "You need not send for him," she said.

  "Then, mademoiselle," I went on, a little more gently, "it seems to meand to your friends that the only other way to return to France is theway we have planned. You will be as safe under Captain Clarke's careas you would be under Dr. Saugrain's. He will take you to his sister,Mrs. O'Fallon, who will be as a mother to you, until a suitable escortcan be found for you to New York to place you under Mr. Livingston'scare. As for me, I shall not in any way annoy you: you need not know Iam on the boat; and as soon as you are placed in Mrs. O'Fallon's careI shall say good-by to you forever, and continue my journey east,since it is indeed time I should be starting homeward. Dr. and MadameSaugrain will assure you that this is the most feasible plan, and Ihope once more that you will not be deterred from accepting it by anyfear of annoyance from me. There will be none. If you decide to gowith us, we must make an early start, and there will be many thingsfor me to attend to. Captain Clarke will inform me of your decision,and I will see Dr. Saugrain and madame in the morning. Till then, Iwish you all a very good night."

  I made my grand bow, turned quickly, and left the room, though Dr.Saugrain and his wife both tried to stay me, and young Papin sprangforward with an eager hand to prevent me.

  I was bitterly angry, and more hurt and disappointed than angry.Outside I strode furiously up and down in the snow, calling myself afool that I should care. Mademoiselle might be a great lady in France,I said to myself, but to me she had shown herself only a fickle,capricious, silly maiden. But even as I so spoke to myself my heartrevolted. I saw her once more weeping in madame's arms, and I began tothink it was only natural and commendable in her that she should be sostirred at the thought of leaving friends who had been so good to her,and that I had been much harder with her than was well.

  And at last, as I began to walk myself into a calmer frame of mind, Icould have wished that I had not made that rash pro
mise to keep myselfout of her sight on the boat. My word was given and I would have tostick to it, but in my own room, as I listened to the murmur of voicesstill going on in the room below me, I thought no longer with anger,but sadly enough, of the long delightful tete-a-tetes withmademoiselle I had dreamed of when I had first planned this trip onthe Great River.

  A bright drop suddenly fell on my hand. I brushed my eyes angrily.

  "Domtiferation!" I whispered furiously to myself. "Mademoiselle wasright! A pretty boy indeed!"