CHAPTER XLVII
THE NEWS
"My cousin Honore,--well, you kin jus' say 'e bitray' 'is 'ole fam'ly."
"How so?" asked Doctor Keene, with a handkerchief over his face toshield his eyes from the sun.
"Well,--ce't'nly 'e did! Di'n' 'e gave dat money to Aurora DeGrapion?--one 'undred five t'ousan' dolla'? Jis' as if to say, 'Yeh's demoney my h-uncle stole from you' 'usban'.' Hah! w'en I will swear on astack of Bible' as 'igh as yo' head, dat Agricole win dat 'abitationfair!--If I see it? No, sir; I don't 'ave to see it! I'll swear toit! Hah!"
"And have she and her daughter actually got the money?"
"She--an'--heh--daughtah--ac--shilly--got-'at-money-sir! W'at? Deylivin' in de rue Royale in mag-_niff_ycen' style on top de drug-sto' ofProffis-or Frowenfel'."
"But how, over Frowenfeld's, when Frowenfeld's is a one-story--"
"My dear frien'! Proffis-or Frowenfel' is _moove!_ You rickleck dat bignew t'ree-story buildin' w'at jus' finished in de rue Royale, a lill mo'farther up town from his old shop? Well, we open dare _a big sto'!_ An'listen! You think Honore di'n' bitrayed' 'is family? Madame Nancanou an'heh daughtah livin' upstair an' rissy-ving de finess soci'ty in deProvince!--an' _me?_--downstair' meckin' pill! You call dat justice?"
But Doctor Keene, without waiting for this question, had asked one:
"Does Frowenfeld board with them?"
"Psh-sh-sh! Board! Dey woon board de Marquis of Casa Calvo! I don'tb'lieve dey would board Honore Grandissime! All de king' an' queen' inde worl' couldn' board dare! No, sir!--'Owever, you know, I think deyare splendid ladies. Me an' my wife, we know them well. An' Honore--Ithink my cousin Honore's a splendid gen'leman, too." After a moment'spause he resumed, with a happy sigh, "Well, I don' care, I'm married. Aman w'at's married, 'e don' care.
"But I di'n' t'ink Honore could ever do lak dat odder t'ing."
"Do he and Joe Frowenfeld visit there?"
"Doctah Keene," demanded Raoul, ignoring the question, "I hask you now,plain, don' you find dat mighty disgressful to do dat way, lak Honore?"
"What way?"
"W'at? You dunno? You don' yeh 'ow 'e gone partner' wid a nigga?"
"What do you mean?"
Doctor Keene drew the handkerchief off his face and half lifted hisfeeble head.
"Yesseh! 'e gone partner' wid dat quadroon w'at call 'imself HonoreGrandissime, seh!"
The doctor dropped his head again and laid the handkerchief back on hisface.
"What do the family say to that?"
"But w'at _can_ dey say? It save dem from ruin! At de sem time, me, Ithink it is a disgress. Not dat he h-use de money, but it is dat namew'at 'e give de h-establishmen'--Grandissime Freres! H-only for 'ismoney we would 'ave catch' dat quadroon gen'leman an' put some tar andfedder. Grandissime Freres! Agricole don' spik to my cousin Honore nomo'. But I t'ink dass wrong. W'at you t'ink, Doctah?"
That evening, at candle-light, Raoul got the right arm of his slender,laughing wife about his neck; but Doctor Keene tarried all night insuburb St. Jean. He hardly felt the moral courage to face the results ofthe last five months. Let us understand them better ourselves.
The Grandissimes Page 48