The old woman’s hand moved in front of Cécile’s face in a circular motion, as if to include the crowd, the warehouses, and the ships that lined the wharves. “Open your eyes, girl,” she said. “Open your eyes so you can see.”
“I can see,” Cécile whispered, feeling a tightening in her stomach.
“Not yet,” the old woman said, moving her hand so close to Cécile’s forehead that she could feel the air stirring. “Not yet.”
Cécile felt as if she were falling again. Her body tensed and she closed her eyes, whispering, “But I can see.”
When she opened her eyes, only Monsieur Lejeune was standing beside her. “Are you all right?” he asked. “Who are you talking to?”
Just then a woman screamed, “Thieves! Thieves!”
Cécile and everyone else looked in the direction of the screams. They seemed to have come from a marchande selling popcorn balls and macaroons in front of one of the warehouses.
Cécile spotted two children racing toward the edge of the crowd. She recognized them as the children with the cypress baskets. Some of the men in the crowd tried to grab their threadbare cloaks, but no one caught them before they disappeared into the darkness.
When the commotion had settled, Monsieur Lejeune and Cécile made their way to the carriage. The word thieves rang in Cécile’s ears as Monsieur Lejeune ushered Mademoiselle, Monette, and Cécile into a carriage. As she stepped inside, Cécile wondered if those two children had the cameo necklace, and if they were the pickpockets and thieves making off with their prize.
And the old woman—whatever had she meant? Those we cannot know have it…Open your eyes so you can see…Cécile trembled with confusion and fear just thinking about the old woman and her words.
As the carriage jounced home, Cécile forced herself to join in the conversation around her, as Maman would expect her to. But her mind tumbled with the events of the evening—the marvels of the circus, the strange talk of the old woman, and, most of all, the awful misery of losing Tante Tay’s necklace.
3
UNCLE HENRY’S LAST GIFT
When Cécile arrived at her home on Dumaine Street, she found her mother waiting up for her. Promising to tell Maman all about the circus in the morning, Cécile said good night, rushed upstairs to her bedroom, and closed the door.
Inside her room, alone at last, Cécile stared at herself in the mirror, touching her neck where the necklace had been only an hour before. As she watched the tears slip down her face, the true horror of losing the necklace stabbed her heart.
Tante Tay had shown Cécile the beautiful necklace a month ago, as Cécile helped her pack for her first journey back to Philadelphia to visit her in-laws since her husband, Uncle Henry, had died. In the two years since Tante Tay had been widowed, she and her little son, René, had lived with Cécile’s family, and Cécile had grown very close to her gentle young aunt.
Fingering the beautiful cameo, Cécile had nearly swooned. “Oh, Tante Tay, if you go someplace fancy on your trip, you will look so lovely in your necklace.”
“Merci, Cécile,” Tante Tay had said. “I do love wearing this necklace. One day I will let you wear it for a special occasion. Would you like that?”
“Oh, yes,” Cécile had breathed. “That would be wonderful.”
But instead of packing the necklace, Tante Tay had put it back in its velvet box and placed it in her drawer. She had explained that the necklace was the last gift Uncle Henry had given her. She would not chance taking it on the train with her for fear of losing it or having it stolen.
I should have listened to what Tante Tay said, Cécile thought now, crying harder. Instead, she had borrowed her aunt’s necklace to wear just this one time to the fancy circus on the showboat. She had not asked anyone’s permission, reasoning that if Tante Tay had been home, she would have counted the circus as a special occasion and allowed her to wear the necklace.
Finally, Cécile got into bed, but she couldn’t sleep. Tante Tay would be back from Philadelphia in just six days. She had to find the necklace before then—but how?
Unable to sleep, Cécile got up, threw on a shawl, and tiptoed out to the balcony. The moon was shining brightly, a few clouds speeding out of sight. The stars twinkled overhead. Cécile searched the sky for the Big Dipper. Somehow knowing it was in the sky always made her feel better. She did not hear a sound except a hooting owl in the distance.
Cécile tried to recall every detail about those few moments between the time she had last felt the necklace on her neck and the instant when she had discovered it was gone. As she did so, Cécile realized it was possible that no one had taken the necklace. Perhaps someone in the crowd had unknowingly stepped on it and crushed it into the dirt, and that’s why Cécile hadn’t seen it. Maybe it was still there on the wharf. Or maybe some honest person had picked it up and turned it in to the circus’s Lost and Found. That was possible, too.
Tomorrow, she decided, I must find a way to go back to the wharf and check.
On the other hand, maybe someone had taken it. Cécile remembered each person who had been standing closest to her. She recalled them clearly: the man selling orange buns, the strange old woman, the Metoyer sisters and their servant, the blonde woman in the circus costume, the two children with the cypress baskets. Perhaps one of those people had picked up the necklace. Only the Metoyer sisters would have known it belonged to her.
Cécile squared her shoulders, shivering against the chilly night air. If she couldn’t find it at the wharf, or in the circus’s Lost and Found, she would track down every one of those people again, even the two children who might be thieves, to ask them about the necklace.
She had no choice if she was to find it before Tante Tay returned.
Cécile woke up early on Sunday morning. While she dressed, she thought about how she could get back to the wharf. It wouldn’t be easy. Like any young lady, Cécile was not allowed to go out alone. What excuse could she give for asking someone to go back with her? She couldn’t bear to tell Maman or Papa what had really happened. They would be so disappointed in her for wearing the necklace without her aunt’s permission. She didn’t even want to tell Grand-père or her brother, Armand.
Cécile wished that her dear friend Marie-Grace Gardner were in New Orleans. She and Marie-Grace had solved a lot of difficult problems together. But Marie-Grace was away, visiting relatives. Cécile was on her own. She took a deep breath and started downstairs.
The house was quiet except for the occasional clanging of pots as the cook, Mathilde, prepared breakfast in the kitchen building at the back of the courtyard. Cécile went into the parlor and lifted the cover from her parrot’s cage. “Bonjour, Cochon,” she said. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”
Cochon ruffled his feathers and squawked, “Wake up! Wake up!”
“Cécile, what are you doing up so early?” Maman said, peering into the parlor. “Come, tell me about the circus while I water the flowers.”
Out in the courtyard, walking alongside Maman, Cécile described the evening at the circus, leaving out what had happened with the necklace. She had just thought of an excuse she might give Maman for going back today when Hannah, the new housemaid, stepped into the garden.
“Good morning, madame. May I cut some flowers for the breakfast table?” she asked.
“Yes, of course,” Maman said.
As Hannah snipped roses behind them, Cécile continued talking. “Maman, you know my knitted blue gloves? I think I dropped them last night on the wharf. Is it all right if Armand walks me back there after church today?”
“Do you mean the gloves Grand-père bought you for Christmas?”
“Yes, those.” Cécile bit her lip.
“Excuse me, madame,” Hannah said.
Oh no! Cécile suddenly remembered that Hannah had helped her dress last night. Did she know that Cécile hadn’t worn her gloves? Was she going to tell Maman?
But Hannah only said, “Madame, would you like more water in your pitcher?”
Cécile turned back to Maman. “May I go look for my gloves?”
“I think you should,” Maman said. “They were so pretty. I hope no one has picked them up. Now you must have breakfast and get ready for church.” Then Maman said to Hannah, “You should get ready, too. Your chores can wait. You said you would come this Sunday.”
“I’m sorry, madame,” Hannah replied, barely above a whisper. “I’m not feeling so well today. Maybe next Sunday.”
At breakfast, Cécile listened to her mother tell Grand-père, Papa, and Armand that Cécile had lost her gloves.
Cécile felt terrible not telling the truth to her mother. She wished the story were true, that the gloves were all she’d lost last night! Cécile swallowed a lump in her throat. Losing her gloves wouldn’t be at all like losing the last gift from someone’s husband. Unlike the gloves, the necklace was irreplaceable.
As Cécile sat with her family in Saint Louis Cathedral later that morning, she prayed that when she went back to the Floating Palace, her necklace would be waiting safely in the Lost and Found, or even lying in the dirt. Please just let me find it, she prayed. For the rest of Mass, Cécile counted the minutes until she was free to go and search.
4
BACK TO THE FLOATING PALACE
When Mass ended, Cécile burst through the heavy cathedral doors, anxious to get back to the wharf. Armand was right beside her. “You seem awfully worried about your gloves,” he said. “Let’s go and find them.”
Cécile and her brother set off for the wharf almost in silence. Usually they would have talked the whole way, but today he seemed preoccupied, and Cécile was lost in thought, too. The overcast sky seemed to reflect their mood.
They had almost passed Jackson Square when Armand stopped to read a handbill nailed to a tree. Cécile waited, so deep in thought about the necklace that she barely noticed the people strolling on the square. But then she spotted Monsieur Lejeune on a side street, his head bent down as he talked with a woman under a tree.
Cécile was about to go greet her tutor when he hurried off. The woman he’d been talking to turned and walked toward the cathedral. Cécile squinted. Why, it was Hannah. Cécile was glad to think she must be feeling better. Cécile knew that her tutor and Hannah were acquainted. Maman had said that Monsieur Lejeune was the one who had told Hannah the Reys needed a housemaid and suggested she apply.
“Come on, Cécé. I just saw something that will make you happy,” Armand said, grabbing her hand. “We have to hurry.”
Cécile doubted that anything could make her happy until she found Tante Tay’s necklace, but she allowed her big brother to pull her along. Now he seemed just as anxious to get to the circus as she did.
They hurried down to the levee. A few people were strolling or riding in carriages, but the crowds and marchands were gone. They easily found the Floating Palace among the dozens of steamboats lined up along the wharves, their smokestacks releasing dark plumes into the air.
Armand pointed to a small wooden booth near the showboat. “That’s where they sell tickets to the circus,” he said. “The Lost and Found is probably there, too. Go see, and when you’re done, come over here.” Armand gestured to one of the nearby warehouses. “I have a surprise for you.”
Cécile hurried to the ticket booth. A sign said the circus was closed on Sundays, and she didn’t see anyone at the window. She stood on tiptoe and leaned over the ticket counter. Maybe she could at least see if there was a Lost and Found box inside.
“May I help you?” a voice roared.
Cécile was so startled, she almost fell backward. Behind the counter was the shortest man she’d ever seen. He reminded her of stories in Harper’s Monthly magazine about a tiny circus man named General Tom Thumb.
“I said, may I help you?” he boomed again. Cécile wondered how on earth such a big voice could be inside this little man. He held up his short-fingered hand. “Howdy. What can I do for you?”
Cécile reached across the counter and shook his hand. “Bonjour, monsieur. I lost a necklace. I thought maybe someone had turned it in. It was—”
“Stop,” the man said, holding his hand up to his forehead. “Let me guess. Was it a beautiful pearl necklace?”
Cécile shook her head. “No, it was a cameo necklace on black lace.”
The little man shrugged. “I’m better at guessing weights.” He tilted his head. “Hmm, seventy-two pounds?”
Cécile had no idea how much she weighed, but she was beginning to feel that this conversation wasn’t very helpful. Ignoring his guess, she asked, “Does the circus have a Lost and Found?”
The little man cackled. “Sure we do. You lose it, we find it—and then we keep it.”
Cécile decided she was wasting time talking to him. “Thank you,” she said, walking away.
“Sorry,” he called after her. “Only joking with you. We have a Lost and Found, but no one turned in your necklace. Hope you find it.”
Cécile thanked him again and scanned the wharf, looking for the spot where she had fallen. Yes, there it was—not far from the showboat’s gangplank, off to the right where the marchands had stood. Cécile walked toward the spot, slowing her pace as she neared it. She surveyed the wharf with each step, but she didn’t see the necklace. She didn’t even see crumbs from the fallen orange buns. Birds or rats had probably cleaned them up.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. Cécile heard Armand calling her. She looked up to see an astonishing sight. Across the wharf, a young man was leading an elephant out of a warehouse—and Armand was walking beside them!
“Come here, Cécile,” he shouted. “I have a surprise for you.”
Cécile hurried to her brother, staring in amazement at the elephant.
Armand’s face was lit up with satisfaction. “Pierre here is going to let you ride the elephant!”
The huge animal stopped walking. Cécile was almost close enough to touch its side. The elephant was so much bigger than she had ever imagined. She felt like a small insect standing beside it.
“Ride the elephant?” Cécile’s stomach lurched. She didn’t want to ride an elephant. She only wanted to find her necklace!
“I saw a handbill advertising elephant rides,” Armand explained. “Pierre says they don’t give rides on Sundays—but for a generous tip, he’ll make an exception for you.” Armand winked.
Pierre said, “You can touch her if you want.”
Cécile didn’t want to touch her. The elephant wouldn’t bring her aunt’s necklace back.
“Her name is Bella,” Pierre said. “She’s very gentle. Go ahead.”
Cécile remembered Grand-père telling her once that circus people considered it good luck to rub the neck of a giraffe. An elephant was even bigger. Maybe it would bring her luck, and she’d find the necklace.
Cécile reached out and touched the elephant’s rough skin. “She has hair,” Cécile said, surprised. She let her fingers glide along the ruffled, tough skin. Bella had folds near her knees, as if her skin were a bolt of cloth. The elephant moved her trunk slowly from side to side. Her tail swatted the air occasionally.
“Ready to ride?” Pierre asked, holding up a rope attached to Bella’s harness.
Cécile shook her head. She needed to find the necklace.
“Come on, Cécé,” Armand said. “This is the chance of a lifetime.”
Cécile could see that her brother was proud to have gotten her this opportun
ity. She backed up a few steps. Did she dare ride an elephant? Maman would be horrified, but maybe Papa and Grand-père would think Cécile brave. Armand always said that he thought she was very brave.
Her heart pounded. She had to admit, this would be quite a story to tell Monette and Marie-Grace. She’d bet even the Metoyer sisters had never ridden an elephant.
Cécile said, “Oui, I will get on, but only for a moment.” Then, she promised herself, she would get back to searching for the necklace as soon as she got off.
Pierre picked up a bale of hay and set it next to Bella. The elephant got down on her knees. Armand held Cécile’s hand as she put one foot on the bale. Her stomach did a somersault. Could she actually do this?
“Swing your leg over her back. I’ll help you up,” Pierre said. Cécile got on and grabbed the harness in front of her.
Pierre tapped Bella’s side two times, and slowly the elephant rose. Her trunk swayed back and forth, along with her massive body. Cécile felt as if she were on top of the world. She had never been so high in the air. Maybe this was how the circus performers felt! The elephant’s step jarred her body up and down, and her heartbeat raced. She wanted to scream in fear and cry out with joy. A chilly wind brought a spatter of raindrops, but Cécile didn’t even notice.
Armand shouted, “You’re doing it, Cécé! You’re riding an elephant all by yourself.”
Cécile grinned at her brother, lifted one hand from the harness, and gave him a tiny wave. She was so excited that she had no thought for anything except the elephant ride.
Then, a short distance beyond Armand, Cécile caught sight of two small figures. She leaned forward, squinting. Was it possible? Yes, the two cloaked children from the night before were walking along the wharf toward her and the elephant. She recognized their thin faces, slanting eyes, and flowing dark hair.
The Cameo Necklace (American Girl Mysteries (Quality)) Page 2