The Quadroon: Adventures in the Far West

by Mayne Reid

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

  AURORE LOVES ME.

  "_Aurore loves me_!"

  The thought thus expressed was of younger date than the day of myremoving to Bringiers from the plantation. A month had elapsed sincethat day.

  The details of my life during that month would possess but littleinterest for you, reader; though to me every hour was fraught with hopesor fears that still hold a vivid place in my memory. When the heart ischarged with love, every trifle connected with that love assumes themagnitude of an important matter; and thoughts or incidents thatotherwise would soon be forgotten, hold a firm place in the memory. Icould write a volume about my affairs of that month, every line of whichwould be deeply interesting to _me_, but not to _you_. Therefore Iwrite it not; I shall not even present you with the journal that holdsits history.

  I continued to live in the hotel at Bringiers. I grew rapidly stronger.I spent most of my time in rambling through the fields and along theLevee--boating upon the river--fishing in the bayous--hunting throughthe cane-breaks and cypress-swamps, and occasionally killing time at agame of billiards, for every Louisiana village has its billiard salon.

  The society of Reigart, whom I now called friend, I enjoyed--when hisprofessional engagements permitted.

  His books, too, were my friends; and from these I drew my first lessonsin botany. I studied the _sylva_ of the surrounding woods, till at aglance I could distinguish every tree and its kind--the giant cypress,emblem of sorrow, with tall shaft shooting out of the apex of itspyramidal base, and crowned with its full head of sad dark foliage,--sadder from its drapery of _tillandsia_; the "tupelo" (_Nyssaaquatica_), that nymph that loves the water, with long delicate leavesand olive-like fruit--the "persimmon," or "American lotus" (_DiospyrosVirginiana_), with its beautiful green foliage and red date-plums--thegorgeous magnolia grandiflora, and its congener, the tall tulip-tree(_Liriodendron tulipifera_)--the water-locust (_Gleditschiamonosperma_); and, of the same genus, the three-thorned honey-locust(_triacanthos_), whose light pinnated leaves scarce veil the sun--thesycamore (_platanus_), with its smooth trunk and wide-reaching limbs ofsilvery hue--the sweet-gum (_Liquidambar styraciflua_), exuding itsgolden drops--the aromatic but sanitary "sassafras" (_Laurussassafras_)--the "red-bay" (_Laurus Caroliniensis_), of cinnamon-likearoma--the oaks of many species, at the head of which might be placedthat majestic evergreen of the southern forests, the "live-oak"(_Quercus virens_)--the "red ash," with its hanging bunches of_samarce_--the shady nettle-tree (_Celtis crassifolia_), with its largecordate leaves and black drupes--and last, though not least interesting,the water-loving cotton-wood (_Populus angulata_). Such is the sylvathat covers the alluvion of Louisiana.

  It is a region beyond the limits of the true palm-tree; but this has itsrepresentative in the palmetto--"latanier" of the French--the _Sabal_palm of the botanist, of more than one species, forming in many placesthe underwood, and giving a tropical character to the forest.

  I studied the parasites--the huge llianas, with branches liketree-trunks, black and gnarled; the cane-vines, with pretty star-likeflowers; the muscadine grape-vines, with their dark purple clusters; the_bignonias_, with trumpet-shaped corollas; the _smilacae_, among whichare conspicuous the _Smilax rotundifolia_, the thick bamboo-briar, andthe balsamic sarsaparilla.

  Not less interesting were the vegetable forms of cultivation--the"staples" from which are drawn the wealth of the land. These were thesugar-cane, the rice-reed, the maize and tobacco-plants, the cottonshrub, and the indigo. All were new to me, and I studied theirpropagation and culture with interest.

  Though a month apparently passed in idleness, it was, perhaps, one ofthe most profitably employed of my life. In that short month I acquiredmore real knowledge than I had done during years of classic study.

  But I had learnt one fact that I prized above all, and that was, that _Iwas beloved by Aurore_!

  I learnt it not from her lips--no words had given me the assurance--andyet I was certain that it _was_ so; certain as that I lived. Not allthe knowledge in the world could have given me the pleasure of that onethought!

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  "_Aurora loves me_!"

  This was my exclamation, as one morning I emerged from the village uponthe road leading to the plantation. Three times a week--sometimes evenmore frequently--I had made this journey. Sometimes I encounteredstrangers at the house--friends of Mademoiselle. Sometimes I found heralone, or in company with Aurore. The latter I could never find alone!Oh! how I longed for that opportunity!

  My visits, of course, were ostensibly to Mademoiselle. I dared not seekan interflow with the slave.

  Eugenie still preserved the air of melancholy, that now appeared to havesettled upon her. Sometimes she was even sad,--at no time cheerful. AsI was not made the confidant of her sorrows, I could only guess at thecause. Gayarre, of course, I believed to be the fiend.

  Of him I had learnt little. He shunned me on the road, or in thefields; and upon _his_ grounds I never trespassed. I found that he washeld in but little respect, except among those who worshipped hiswealth. How he was prospering in his suit with Eugenie I knew not. Theworld talked of such a thing as among the "probabilities"--though one ofthe strange ones, it was deemed. I had sympathy for the young Creole,but I might have felt it more profoundly under other circumstances. Asit was, my whole soul was under the influence of a stronger passion--mylove for Aurore.

  "Yes--Aurore loves me!" I repeated to myself as I passed out from thevillage, and faced down the Levee road.

  I was mounted. Reigart, in his generous hospitality, had even made memaster of a horse--a fine animal that rose buoyantly under me, as thoughhe was also imbued by some noble passion.

  My well-trained steed followed the path without need of guidance, anddropping the bridle upon his neck, I left him to go at will, and pursuedthe train of my reflections.

  I loved this young girl--passionately and devotedly I loved her. Sheloved me. She had not declared it in words, but her looks; and now andthen a slight incident--scarce more than a fleeting glance or gesture--had convinced me that it was so.

  Love taught me its own language. I needed no interpreter--no tongue totell I was beloved.

  These reflections were pleasant, far more than pleasant; but othersfollowed them of a very different nature.

  With whom was I in love? A slave! True, a beautiful slave--but still aslave! How the world would laugh! how Louisiana would laugh--nay, scornand persecute! The very proposal to make her my wife would subject meto derision and abuse. "What! marry a slave! 'Tis contrary to the lawsof the land!" Dared I to marry her--even were she free?--she, a_quadroon_!--I should be hunted from the land, or shut up in one of itsprisons!

  All this I knew, but not one straw cared I for it. The world's obloquyin one scale, my love for Aurore in the other--the former weighed but afeather.

  True, I had deep regret that Aurore was a slave, but it sprang not fromthat consideration. Far different was the reason of my regret. _Howwas I to obtain her freedom_? That was the question that troubled me.

  Up to this time I had made light of the matter. Before I knew that Iwas beloved it seemed a sequence very remote. But it was now broughtnearer, and all the faculties of my mind became concentrated on that onethought--"How was I to obtain her freedom?" Had she been an ordinaryslave, the answer would have been easy enough; for though not rich, myfortune was still equal to the _price of a human being_!

  In my eyes Aurore was priceless. Would she also appear so in the eyesof her young mistress? Was my bride for sale on any terms? But even ifmoney should be deemed an equivalent, would Mademoiselle _sell_ her to_me_? An odd proposal, that of buying _her_ slave for my wife! Whatwould Eugenie Besancon think of it?

  The very idea of this proposal awed me; but the time to make it had notyet arrived.

  I must first have an interview with Aurore, demand a confession of herlove, and then, i
f she consent to become mine,--_my wife_,--the rest maybe arranged. I see not clearly the way, but a love like mine willtriumph over everything. My passion nerves me with power, with courage,with energy. Obstacles must yield; opposing wills be coaxed or crushed;everything must give way that stands between myself and my love!"Aurore! I come! I come!"