"So is Mr. Chester."
"Never mind that, either. We're in a joint commercial enterprise; wewant a few good stories that will hang on one stem. Our business isbusiness; a primrose by the river's brim--nothing more! Although"--thespeaker reddened----
The girl blushed. "Mr. Chester, take away the 'although' and I'll tellthe story."
"I take it away. Although----"
XX
THE CHAPDELAINES
"A yellow primrose was to him----"
Yonder in the parlor with the Ducatels, ignorant of the poet's lines asthey, the two aunts--those two consciously irremovable, unadjustable,incarnated interdictions to their niece's marriage--saw the primrose,the "business," as the pair in the bower thought they saw itthemselves. Were not Aline and Chester immersed in that tale ofservile insurrection so destitute of angels, guiding stars, and lovers?And was not Hector with them? And are not three as truly a crowd inFrench as in American?
"Well, to begin," Chester urged, "your grandfather, TheophileChapdelaine, was born in this old quarter, in such a street. Royal?"
"Yes. Nearly opposite the ladies' entrance of that Hotel St. Louis nowperishing."
"Except its dome. I hear there's a movement----
"Yes, to save that. I hope 'twill succeed. To me that old dome is amonument of those two men."
"But if it comes down the home remains, opposite, where both were born,were they not?"
"Yes. Yet I'd rather the dome. We Creoles, you know, are called veryconservative."
"Yet no race is more radical than the French."
"True. And we Chapdelaines have always been radical. _Grandpere_ was,though a slaveholder."
"Oh, none of _my_ ancestors justified slavery, yet as planters they hadto own negroes."
"But the Chapdelaines were not planters. They were agents of ships.Fifty times on one page in the old _Picayune_, or in _L'Abeille_--'Forfreight or passage apply to the master on board or to T. Chapdelaine &Son, agents.' Even then there were two Theophiles, and grandpapa wasthe son. They were wholesale agents also for French exporters ofartistic china, porcelain, glass, bronze. Twice they furnished thehotel with everything of that kind; when it first opened, and when itchanged hands. That's how they came to hold stock in it. Grandpapa,outdoor man of the firm, was every day in the rotunda, under that dome."
"Yes," Chester said, "it was a kind of Rialto, I know. They called itthe 'Exchange,' as earlier they had called Maspero's."
"You love our small antiquities. So do I. Well, grandpapa did muchbusiness there, both of French goods and of ships; and because thehotel was the favorite of the sugar-planters its rotunda was one of theprincipal places for slave auctions."
"Yes, they were, I know, almost daily. The old slave-block is shownthere yet, if genuine."
"Ah, genuine or not, what difference? From one that _was_ there_grandpere_ bought many slaves. He and his father speculated in them."
"Why! How strange! The son? _your_ grandfather? the radical, whomarried--'Maud'?"
"Yes, the last slave he bought was for her."
"Why, why, why! He couldn't have met her be'--well--before the year ofLincoln's election."
"No, let me tell you. You remember 'Sidney'?"
"'Maud's' black maid? my uncle's Euonymus? Yes."
"Well, when she came to Maud, at Maud's home, in the North, she wasstill in agony about Mingo, who'd been recaptured. So Maud wroteSouth, to her aunt, who wrote back: 'Yes, he had been brought home, andat creditor's auction had been sold to a slave-trader to be resold herein New Orleans.' So then Sidney begged Maud, who by luck was cominghere, to bring her here to find him."
"Brave Sidney. Brave Euonymus."
"Yes--although--her Southern mistress--I know not how legally--had sentto her her free-paper. That made it safer, I suppose, eh?"
"Yes. But--who told you all this so exactly--your _grand'mere_herself, or your _grandpere_?"
"Ah--she, no. I never saw her. And _grandpere_--no, he was killedbefore I was born."
"_What_?"
"Yes, all that I'll come to. This I'm telling now is from my own papa.He had it from _grandpere_. _Grand'mere_ and Sidney came with friends,a gentleman and his wife, by ship from New York."
"And all put up at Hotel St. Louis?"
"Yes. From there Maud and Sidney began their search. But now, first,about that speculating in slaves: those two Theophiles, first thefather, then both, hated slavery. 'Twas by nature and in everythingthat they were radical. Their friends knew that, even when they onlysaid, 'Oh, you are extreme!' or 'Those Chapdelaines are extremist.' Inthose years from about eighteen-forty to 'sixty----"
"When the slavery question was about to blaze----"
"Yes--they voted Whig. That was the most antislavery they could voteand stay here. But under the rose they said: 'All right! extremist,yet Whig; we'll be extreme Whig of a new kind. We'll trade in slaves.'"
Chester laughed. "I begin to see," he said, and by a sidelong glancebade Aline note the rapt attention of Cupid. Her answering smile wasso confidential that his heart leaped.
"I'll tell you by and by about that also," she murmured, and thenresumed: "While _grandpere_ was yet a boy his father had begun that,that slave-buying. On that auction-block he would often see a slaveabout to be sold much below value, or whose value might easily beincreased by training to some trade. You see?--blacksmith, lady'smaid, cook, hair-dresser, engine-driver, butler?"
Chester darkened. "So he made the thing pay?"
"_Seem_ to pay. Looking so simple, so ordinary, 'twas but a mask forsomething else."
"But in a thing looking so ordinary had he no competitors, to makeprofits difficult?"
"Ah, of a kind, yes; but the men who could do that best would not do itat all. They would not have been respected."
"But T. Chapdelaine & Son were respected."
"Yes, _in spite_ of that. Their friends said: 'Let the extremists beextreme that way.'"
"The public mind was not yet quite in flames."
"No. But--guess who helped _grandpere_ do that."
"Why, do I know him? Castanado."
The girl shook her head.
"Who? Beloiseau?"
"Ah, you! You can guess better."
"Ovide Lan'--no, Ovide was still a slave."
"Yet more free than most free negroes. 'Twas he. He was janitor tooffices in the hotel, and always making acquaintance with the slaves ofthe slave-mart. And when he found one who was quite of the rightkind--and Ovide he's a wise judge of men, you know--he would show himto _grandpere_, and at the auction, if the bidding was low, _grandpere_would buy him--or her."
"What was one of 'quite the right kind'? One willing to buy his ownfreedom?"
"Ah, also to do something more; you see?"
"Yes, I see," Chester laughed; "to help others run away, wasn't it?"
"Not precisely to run, but----"
"To stow away, on those ships, h'm?" There was rapture in crossing that_h'm_ line of intimacy. "I see it all! Ha-ha, I see it all! Well!that brings us back to 'Maud,' doesn't it--h'm?"
"Yes. They met, she and grandpere, at a ball, in the hotel.But"--Aline smiled--"that was not their first. Their first was two orthree mornings before, when he, passing in Royal Street, and she--withSidney--looking at old buildings in Conti Street----"
"Mademoiselle! That happened to _them_?--_there_?"
"Yes, to _them_, _there_." With level gaze narrator and listenerregarded each other. Then they glanced at Cupid. His eyes wereshining on them.
"Who is our young friend, anyhow?" asked Chester.
"Ah, I suppose you have guessed. He is the grandson of Sidney."
XXI
"And another time, on the morning just before the ball," said Aline,returning to the story, "they had seen each other again. That was atthe slave-auction. That night, before the ball was over, she and_grandpere_ understood--knew, each, from the other, why the other wasat that auction;
and he had promised her to find Mingo.
"Well, after weeks, Ovide helping, all at once there was Mingo, in thegang, by the block, waiting his turn to go on it. Picture that! Anytime I want to shut my eyes I can see it, and I think you can do thesame, h'm?"
Blessed _h'm_; 'twas the flower--of the Chapdelaines--humming back tothe bee. Said the bee, "We'll try it there together some day, h'm?"and Cupid mutely sparkled:
"Oh, by all means! the three of us!"
The flower ignored them both. "There was the auctioneer," she said;"there were the slaves, there the crowd of bidders; between them theblock, above them the beautiful dome. Very soon Mingo was on theblock, and the first bid was from Sidney. She was the only one in ahurry except Mingo. He was trying to see her, but she was hiding fromhim behind _grandpere_; yet not from the auctioneer. The auctioneerstopped.
"'Who authorized you to bid here?' he asked her.
"'Nobody, sir; I's free.' She held up her paper.
"_Grandpere_ nodded to the auctioneer.
"'Will Mr. Chapdelaine please read it out?'
"He read it out, signature and all.
"'Anybody know any one of that name?' the auctioneer asked, and_grand'mere_ said:
"'That's my aunt. This free girl is my maid."
"'Oh, bidding for you?' he said; and grand'mere said no, the girl wasbidding on her own account, with her own money.
"'What kind of money? We can't take shinplasters.' For 'twas then'sixty-one--year of secession, you know.
"'Gold!' Sidney called out, and held it up in a black stocking, so highthat every one laughed."
"Not Mingo, I fancy."
"Ah, no, nor the keeper of the gang."
"--Wonder how Mingo was behaving."
"He? he was shaking and weeping, and begging this and that of the manwho held and threatened him, to keep him quiet. So then the auctioneerbegan to call Sidney's bid. You know how that would be: 'Gentlemen,I'm offered five hundred dollars. Cinq cent piastres, messieurs! Onlyfive hundred for this likely boy worth all of nine! Who'll say six?Going at five hundred, what do I hear?' But he heard nothingtill--'third and last call!' Then the owner of the gang nodded and theauctioneer called out, 'six hundred!"'
"And did Sidney raise it?"
"No, she wept aloud. 'Oh, my brotheh!' she cried, 'Lawd save my po'brotheh! I's los' him ag'in! I done bid my las' dollah at de fustcall!'"
"And Mingo knew her voice, spied her out?"
"Yes, and holloed, 'Sidney! sisteh!' till _grand-mere_ wept too and aman called out, 'No one bid that six hundred!' But _grandpere_ said:'I bid six-fifty and will tell all about this _unlikely_ boy if hisowner bids again.'
"So Mingo was sold to _grandpere_. 'And now,' _grandpere_ whispered to_grand-mere_ and her friends, 'go pack trunks for the ship as fast asyou can.'"
"And they parted like that? But of course not!"
"No, only expected to. In the Gulf, at the mouth of the river, aConfederate privateer"--the narrator's voice faded out. She began torise. Her aunts were returning.
XXII
Mademoiselle, we say, began to rise. Chester stood. Also Cupid. Theaunts drew near, speaking with infantile lightness:
"Finizh' already that reading? You muz' have gallop'! Well, and whatis Mr. Chezter's conclusion on that momentouz manuscrip'?"
The niece hurried to answer first: "Ah! we must not ask that soimmediately. Mr. Chester concludes 'tis better for all that he studythat an evening or two in his seclusion."
"And! you did not read it through together?"
"No, there was no advantage to----"
"Oh! advantage! An' you stop' in the mi'l of that momentouz souvenirof the pas'! Tha'z astonizhing that _anybody_ could do that, an' leas'of all" [confronting Chester] "the daughter of a papa an' gran'papawith such a drama-tique bio-graphie! Mr. Chezter, to pazz the timeAline ought to 'ave tell you that bio-graphie, yes!--of our marvellouzbrother an' papa. Ah, you should some day egstort _that_ story fromour too li'l' communicative girl."
"Why not to-day, for the book?"
"Oh, no-no-no-no-o! We di'n' mean that!" The sisters laughedexcessively. "A young lady to put her own papa into a book--ah!im-pos-si-ble!"
They laughed on. "Even my sizter an' me, we have never let anybodyegstort that, an' we don't know if Aline ever be persuade'----"
"Yes, some day I'll tell Mr. Chezter--whatever he doesn't know already."
"Ha-ha! we can be sure tha'z not much, Aline. And, Corinne, if he's_heard_ this or that, tha'z the more reason to tell him co'rec'ly.Only, my soul! not to put in the book, no!"
"Ah, no! Though as between frien', yes. And, moreover, to Mr.Chezter, yes, biccause tha'z so much abbout that Hotel St. Louis and heis so appreciative to old building'. Ah, we've notice' that incident!Tha'z the cause that we egs'ibit you our house--as a relique of thepas'--Yvonne! we are forgetting!--those souvenir' of our in-fancy--toshow them! Come--all!"
Half-way to the house--"Ah, ha-ha! another subjec' of interess! See,Mr. Chezter; see coming! Marie Madeleine! She's mis' both her belovedmiztress' from the house and become anxious, our beautiful cat! Wename' her Marie Madeleine because her great piety! You know, tha'z thesacred truth, that she never catch' a mice on Sunday."
"Ah, neither the whole of Lent!"
In the parlor--"I really think," Chester said, "I must ask you to letme take another time for the souvenirs. I'm so eager to save thismanuscript any further delay--" He said good-by.
Yet he did not hurry to his lodgings. He had had an experience toogreat, too rapt, to be rehearsed in his heart inside any small, meanroom. All the open air and rapid transit he could get were not toomuch, till at lamplight he might sit down somewhere and hold himself tothe manuscript.
Meantime the Chapdelaines had been but a moment alone when morevisitors rang--a pair! Their feet could be seen under the gate--twomale, two female--that is not a land where women have men's feet.Flattering, fluttering adventure--five callers in one afternoon!"Aline, we are becoming a public institution!" The aunts sprang here,there, and into collision; Cupid sped down the walk; Marie Madeleinestood in the door.
And who were these but the dear De l'Isles!
"No," they would not come inside. "But, Corinne, Yvonne, Aline, run,toss on hats for a trip to Spanish Fort."
One charm of that trip is that the fare is but, five cents, and thecrab gumbo no dearer than in town. "Come! No-no-no, not one, but thethree of you. In pure compassion on us! For, as sometimes in heavenamong cherubim, we are _ennuyes_ of each other!"
The small half-hourly electric train in Rampart Street had barelystarted lakeward into Canal, with the De l'Isle-Chapdelaine five aboardand the sun about to set, when Geoffry Chester entered--and stoppedbefore monsieur, stiff with embarrassment. Nevertheless that made thema glad six, and, as each seat was for two, the two with life beforethem took one.
XXIII
The small public garden, named for an old redout on the lake shore atthe mouth of Bayou St. John was filled with a yellow sunset as Chesterand Aline moved after the aunts and the De l'Isles from the train intoa shell walk whose artificial lights at that moment flashed on.
"So far from that," he was saying, "a story may easily be improved,clarified, beautified, by--what shall I say?--by filtering down througha second and third generation of the right tellers and hearers."
"Ah, yes! the right, yes! But----"
"And for me you're supremely the right one."
Instantly he rued his speech. Some delicate mechanism seemed to stop.Had he broken it? As one might lay a rare watch to his ear he waited,listening, while they stood looking off to where water, sky, and sunmet; and presently, to his immeasurable relief, she responded:
"_Grandpere_ was not at that time such a very young man, yet he stilllived with his father. So when _grand'mere_ and her two friends--withSidney and Mingo--returned from the privateer to the hotel they wereopposite neighbors to the Chapdelaines and almost without anotherfriend
, in a city--among a people--on fire with war. Then, prettysoon--" the fair narrator stopped and significantly smiled.
Chester twinkled. "Um-h'm," he said, "your _grandpere's_ heart becameanother city on fire."
"Yes, and 'twas in that old hotel--with the war storm coming, liketo-day only everything much more close and terrible, business dead,soldiers every day going to Virginia--you must make Mr. Thorndyke-Smithtell you about that--'twas in that old hotel, at a great free-giftlottery and bazaar, lasting a week, for aid of soldiers' families, andin a balcony of the grand salon, that _grandpere_--" the narratorceased and smiled again.
"Proposed," Chester murmured.
The girl nodded. They sank to a bench, the world behind them, thestars above. "_Grand'mere_, she couldn't say yes till he'd first go toher home, almost at the Canadian line, and ask her family. She, shecouldn't go; she couldn't leave Sidney and Mingo and neither could shetake them. So by railroad at last he got there. But her family tookso long to consent that he got back only the next year and through thefall of the city. Only by ship could he come, and not till he hadbegged President Lincoln himself and promised him to work with hismight to return Louisiana to the Union. Well, of course, he and hisfather had voted against secession, weeping; yet now this was a pledgeterrible to keep, and the more because, you see? what to do, and whenand how to do it----"
"Were left to his own judgment and tact?"
"Oh, and honor! But anyhow he came. Doubtless, bringing the writtenpermission of the family, he was happy. Yet to what bitternesses--canwe say bitternesses in English?"
The Flower of the Chapdelaines Page 8