by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER SIXTY SIX.
THE ELOPEMENT.
It was a field of sugar-cane. The canes were of that species known as"ratoons"--suckers from old roots--and the thick bunches at their bases,as well as the tall columns, enabled us to pass among them unobserved.Even had it been day, we might have approached the house unseen.
We soon reached the garden-paling. Here we stopped to reconnoitre theground. A short survey was sufficient. We saw the very place where wecould approach and conceal ourselves.
The house had an antique weather-beaten look--not without somepretensions to grandeur. It was a wooden building, two stories inheight, with gable roofs, and large windows--all of which had Venetianshutters that opened to the outside. Both walls and window-shutters hadonce been painted, but the paint was old and rusty; and the colour ofthe Venetians, once green, could hardly be distinguished from the greywood-work of the walls. All round the house ran an open gallery orverandah, raised some three or four feet from the ground. Upon thisgallery the windows and doors opened, and a paling or guard-railencompassed the whole. Opposite the doors, a stairway of half-a-dozensteps led up; but at all other parts the space underneath was open infront, so that, by stooping a little, one might get under the floor ofthe gallery.
By crawling close up in front of the verandah, and looking through therails, we should be able to command a full view of all the windows inthe house;--and in case of alarm, we could conceal ourselves in the darkcavity underneath. We should be safe there, unless scented by the dogs.
Our plan was matured in whispers. It was not much of a plan. We wereto advance to the edge of the verandah, peep through the windows untilwe could discover the apartment of Aurore; then do our best tocommunicate with her, and get her out. Our success depended greatlyupon accident or good fortune.
Before we could make a move forward, fortune seemed as though she wasgoing to favour us. In one of the windows, directly before our face, afigure appeared. A glance told us it was the Quadroon!
The window, as before stated, reached down to the floor of the verandah;and as the figure appeared behind the glass, we could see it from headto foot. The Madras kerchief on the head, the gracefully undulatingfigure, outlined upon the background of the lighted room, left no doubtupon our minds as to who it was.
"'Tis Aurore!" whispered my companion.
How could _he_ tell? Did he know her? All! I remembered--he had seenher that morning in the Rotundo.
"It is she!" I replied, my beating heart scarce allowing me to makeutterance.
The window was curtained, but she had raised the curtain in one hand,and was looking out. There was that in her attitude that betokenedearnestness. She appeared as if trying to penetrate the gloom. Even inthe distance I could perceive this, and my heart bounded with joy. Shehad understood my note. She was looking for me!
D'Hauteville thought so as well. Our prospects were brightening. Ifshe guessed our design, our task would be easier.
She remained but a few moments by the window. She turned away and thecurtain dropped into its place; but before it had screened the view, thedark shadow of a man fell against the back wall of the room. Gayarre,no doubt!
I could hold back no longer; but climbing over the garden-fence, I creptforward, followed by D'Hauteville.
In a few seconds both of us had gained the desired position--directly infront of the window, from which we were now separated only by thewood-work of the verandah. Standing half-bent our eyes were on a levelwith the floor of the room. The curtain had not fallen properly intoits place. A single pane of the glass remained unscreened, and throughthis we could see nearly the whole interior of the apartment. Our ears,too, were at the proper elevation to catch every sound; and personsconversing within the room we could hear distinctly.
We were right in our conjecture. It was Aurore we had seen. Gayarrewas the other occupant of the room.
I shall not paint that scene. I shall not repeat the words to which welistened. I shall not detail the speeches of that mean villain--atfirst fulsome and flattering--then coarse, bold, and brutal; until atlength, failing to effect his purpose by entreaties, he had recourse tothreats.
D'Hauteville held me back, begging me in earnest whispers to be patient.Once or twice I had almost determined to spring forward, dash aside thesash, and strike the ruffian to the floor. Thanks to the prudentinterference of my companion, I restrained myself.
The scene ended by Gayarre going out of the room indignant, but somewhatcrest-fallen. The bold, upright bearing of the Quadroon--whosestrength, at least, equalled that of her puny assailant--had evidentlyintimidated him for the moment, else he might have resorted to personalviolence.
His threats, however, as he took his departure; left no doubt of hisintention soon to renew his brutal assault. He felt certain of hisvictim--she was his slave, and must yield. He had ample time andopportunity. He need not at once proceed to extremes. He could waituntil his valour, somewhat cowed, should return again, and imbue himwith a fresh impulse.
The disappearance of Gayarre gave us an opportunity to make our presenceknown to Aurore. I was about to climb up to the verandah and tap on theglass; but my companion prevented me from doing so.
"It is not necessary," he whispered; "she certainly knows you will behere. Leave it to _her_. She will return to the window presently.Patience, Monsieur! a false step will ruin all. Remember the dogs!"
There was prudence in these counsels, and I gave way to them. A fewminutes would decide; and we both crouched close, and watched themovements of the Quadroon.
The apartment in which she was attracted our notice. It was not thedrawing-room of the house, nor yet a bedroom. It was a sort of libraryor studio--as shelves filled with books, and a table, covered withpapers and writing-materials, testified. It was, no doubt, the officeof the avocat, in which he was accustomed to do his writing.
Why was Aurore in that room? Such a question occurred to us; but we hadlittle time to dwell upon it. My companion suggested that as they hadjust arrived, she may have been placed there while an apartment wasbeing prepared for her. The voices of servants overhead, and the noiseof furniture being moved over the floor, was what led him to make thissuggestion; it was just as if a room was being set in order.
This led me into a new train of reflection. She might be suddenlyremoved from the library, and taken up-stairs. It would then be moredifficult to communicate with her. It would be better to make theattempt at once.
Contrary to the wish of D'Hauteville, I was about to advance forward tothe window, when the movements of Aurore herself caused me to hesitate.
The door through which Gayarre had just made his exit was visible fromwhere we stood. I saw the Quadroon approach this with silent tread, asif meditating some design. Placing her hand upon the key, she turned itin the lock, so that the door was thus bolted inside. With what designhad she doing this?
It occurred to us that she was about to make her escape out by thewindow, and that she had fastened the door for the purpose of delayingpursuit. If so, it would be better for us to remain quiet, and leaveher to complete the design. It would be time enough to warn her of ourpresence when she should reach the window. This was D'Hauteville'sadvice.
In one corner of the room stood a large mahogany desk, and over its headwas ranged a screen of box-shelves--of the kind known as "pigeon-holes."These were filled with papers and parchments--no doubt, wills, deeds,and other documents relating to the business of the lawyer.
To my astonishment I saw the Quadroon, as soon as she had secured thedoor, hastily approach this desk, and stand directly in front of it--hereyes eagerly bent upon the shelves, as though she was in search of somedocument!
Such was in reality the case, for she now stretched forth her hand, drewa bundle of folded papers from the box, and after resting her eyes uponthem for a moment, suddenly concealed them in the bosom of her dress!
"Heavens!" I mentally ejaculated, "what can it mean?
"
I had no time to give way to conjectures--for in a second's time Aurorehad glided across the floor, and was standing in the window.
As she raised the curtain, the light streamed full on the faces ofmyself and my companion, and at the first glance she saw us. A slightexclamation escaped her, but it was of joy, not surprise; and shesuddenly checked herself.
The ejaculation was not loud enough to be heard across the room. Thesash opened noiselessly--with silent tread the verandah was crossed--andin another moment my betrothed was in my arms! I lifted her over thebalustrade, and we passed hastily along the walks of the garden.
The outer field was reached without any alarm having been given; and,directing ourselves between the rows of the canes, we speeded on towardsthe woods, that loomed up like a dark wall in the distance.