The Quadroon: Adventures in the Far West
Page 29
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.
"ELLE T'AIME!"
It was natural I should have thoughts about my yesterday's antagonist.Would I encounter him? Not likely. The butt of my whip had no doubtgiven him a headache that would confine him for some days to hisquarters. But I was prepared for any event. Under my waistcoat werehis own double-barrelled pistols, which I intended to use, if attacked.It was my first essay at carrying "concealed weapons," but it was thefashion of the country at the time--a fashion followed by nineteen outof every twenty persons you met--by planters, merchants, lawyers,doctors, and even divines! So prepared, I had no fear of an encounterwith "Bully Bill." If my pulse beat quick and my step was nervous, itwas on account of the anticipated interview with his mistress.
With all the coolness I could command, I entered the house.
I found Mademoiselle in the drawing-room. She received me withoutreserve or embarrassment. To my surprise as well as gratification sheappeared more cheerful than usual. I could even detect a significantsmile! I fancied she was pleased at what had occurred; for of courseshe was aware of it all. I could understand this well enough.
Aurore was not present. I was glad she was not. I hoped she would notcome into the room--_at least for a time_. I was embarrassed. I scarceknew how to open the conversation, much less to break to Mademoisellethe matter that was nearest my heart. A few ordinary phrases passedbetween us, and then our conversation turned upon the affair ofyesterday. I told her all--everything--except the scene with Aurore.That was omitted.
I hesitated for some time whether I should let her know _who_ heroverseer was. When she should ascertain that he was the fellow who hadwounded me on the boat, and who but for me would have taken away herchances of safety, I felt certain she would insist upon getting rid ofhim at all risks.
For a moment I reflected upon the consequences. "She will never besafe," thought I, "with such a ruffian at her side. Better for her tomake stand at once." Under this belief I boldly came out with theinformation.
She seemed astounded, and clasping her hands, remained for some momentsin an attitude of mute agony. At length she cried out--
"Gayarre--Gayarre! it is you, Monsieur Gayarre! Oh! _mon Dieu! monDieu_! Where is my father? where is Antoine? God have mercy upon me!"
The expression of grief upon her lovely countenance went to my heart.She looked an angel of sorrow, sad but beautiful.
I interrupted her with consolatory phrases of the ordinary kind. ThoughI could only guess the nature of her sorrow, she listened to mepatiently, and I fancied that what I said gave her pleasure.
Taking courage from this, I proceeded to inquire more particularly thecause of her grief. "Mademoiselle," said I, "you will pardon theliberty I am taking; but for some time I have observed, or fancied, thatyou have a cause of--of--unhappiness--"
She fixed her eyes upon me in a gaze of silent wonder. I hesitated amoment under this strange regard, and then continued--
"Pardon me, Mademoiselle, if I speak too boldly; I assure you mymotive--"
"Speak on, Monsieur!" she said, in a calm sad voice.
"I noticed this the more, because when I first had the pleasure ofseeing you, your manner was so very different--in fact, quite thereverse--"
A sigh and a sad smile were the only reply. These interrupted me forbut a moment, and I proceeded:--
"When first observing this change, Mademoiselle, I attributed it togrief for the loss of your faithful servitor and friend."
Another melancholy smile.
"But the period of sorrowing for such a cause is surely past, and yet--"
"And yet you observe that I am still sad?"
"Just so, Mademoiselle."
"True, Monsieur; it is even so."
"I have ceased therefore to regard that as the cause of your melancholy;and have been forced to think of some other--"
The gaze of half surprise, half interrogation, that now met mine, causedme for a moment to suspend my speech. After a pause, I resumed it,determined to come at once to the point, "You will pardon me,Mademoiselle, for this free interest in your affairs--you will pardon mefor asking. Do I not recognise in Monsieur Gayarre the cause of yourunhappiness?"
She started at the question, and turned visibly paler. In a moment,however, she seemed to recover herself, and replied calmly, but with alook of strange significance:--
"Helas! Monsieur, your suspicions are but _partially_ correct. Helas!Oh! God, support me!" she added, in a tone that sounded like despair.Then, as if by an effort, her manner seemed to undergo a suddenalteration, and she continued:--
"Please, Monsieur, let us change the subject? I owe you life andgratitude. Would I knew how to repay you for your generous gallantry--your--your--_friendship_. Perhaps some day you may know all. I wouldtell you now, but--but--Monsieur--there are--I cannot--"
"Mademoiselle Besancon, I entreat you, do not for a moment let thequestions I have asked have any consideration. They were not put fromidle curiosity. I need not tell you, Mademoiselle, that my motive wasof a higher kind--"
"I know it, Monsieur--I know it; but no more of it now, I pray you--letus speak on some other subject."
Some other subject! I had no longer the choice of one. I had no longercontrol of my tongue. The subject which was nearest my heart sprangspontaneously to my lips; and in hurried words I declared my love forAurore.
I detailed the whole course of my passion, from the hour of my dreamlikevision up to that when we had plighted our mutual troth.
My listener was seated upon the low ottoman directly before me; but frommotives of bashfulness I had kept my eyes averted during the time I wasspeaking. She heard me without interruption, and I augured well fromthis silence.
I concluded at length, and with trembling heart was awaiting her reply;when a deep sigh, followed by a rustling sound, caused me suddenly toturn. _Eugenie had fallen upon the floor_!
With a glance I saw she had fainted. I flung my arms around her, andcarried her to the sofa.
I was about to call for assistance when the door opened, and a formglided into the room. _It was Aurore_!
"_Mon Dieu_!" exclaimed the latter; "_vous l'avez faire mourir! Ellet'aime--Elle t'aime_!"