1^27^ ..J^JHxglJ^^^H ^^^^^ ^^^ 3^* L I B R.AR.Y OF THE UNIVERSITY or ILLINOIS V.I ^ The person charging this material is re^ sponsible for its return on or before the Latest Date stamped below. Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books are reasons for disciplinary action and may result in dismissal from the University. University of Illinois Library SEP3 MOV 2 6 lifts 31970 miB 1 1996 L161— O-1096 THE QUADROON. THE QUADROON; OB, A LOYER'S ADVENTURES IN LOUISIANA. CAPTAIN MAYNE REID, AUTHOR OF " THE SCALP-HUNTERS." IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: GEORGE W. HYDE, 13 PATERNOSTER ROW. 1856. [Right of TraTislation reterved by the Author.^ LONDON ; Printed by G. Barclay, Castie St. Leiceeter Sq. ^ PREFACE Reader ! a word with you before starting. This book is a romayice — nothing more. The author is not the hero. 4x TO THOMAS JAMES MARSHALL, ESQ. FROM HIS FRIEND, The Author. THE QUADROON, CHAPTER I. THE FATHER OF WATERS.* Father of Waters ! I worship thy mighty stream ! As the Hindoo by the shores of his sacred river, I kneel upon thy banks, and pour forth my soul in wild adoration ! Far different are the springs of our de- votion. To him, the waters of his yellow Ganges are the symbols of a superstitious awe, commingled with dark fears for the mystic future ; to me, thy golden waves are •'•' For explanatory notes, see Appendix at the end of the third Toliime. VOL. I. B 2 THE QUADROON. the souvenirs of joy, binding the present to the known and happy past. Yes, mighty river ! I worship thee in the past. My heart thrills with joy at the very mention of thy name ! « * ^T « * Father of Waters ! I know thee well. In the land of a thousand lakes, on the summit of the " Hauteur de terre " I have leaped thy tiny stream. Upon the bosom of the blue lakelet, the fountain of thy life, I have launched my birchen boat ; and yielding to thy current have floated softly southward. I have passed the meadows where the wild rice ripens on thy banks, where the white birch mirrors its silvery stem, and tall conifer (B fling their pyramid shapes, on thy surface. I have seen the red Chippewa cleave thy crystal waters in his bark canoe — the giant moose lave his flanks in thy cooling flood — and the stately wapiti bound gracefully along thy banks. I have listened to the music of thy shores — the call of the THE QUADROON. 3 cacawee, the laugh of the wa-wa goose, and the trumpet - note of the great northern swan. Yes, mighty river ! Even in that far northern land, thy wilderness home, have I worshipped thee ! * * -^^ * -» Onward through many parallels of lati- tude — through many degrees of the thermal line ! I stand upon thy banks where thou leapest the rocks of St. Antoine, and with bold frothing current cleavest thy way to the south. Already I note a change in the aspect of thy shores. The conifer cb have disappeared, and thou art draped with a deciduous foliage of livelier hue. Oaks, elms, and maples, mingle their frondage, and stretch their broad arms over thee. Though I still look upon woods that seem illimitable, I feel that the wilderness is past. My eyes are greeted by the signs of civilisation — its sounds fall upon my ear. The hewn cabin — picturesque in its rudeness — stands B 2 4 THE QUADROON. among prostrate trunks; and the ring of the lumberer's axe is heard in the far depths of the forest. The silken blades of the maize wave in triumph over fallen trees, its golden tassels giving promise of a rich return. The spire of the church peers above the green spray of the woods, and the prayer of the Christian ascends to heaven sublimely mingling with the roar of thy waters ! * *- :H: # ^ I launch my boat once more on thy buoyant wave; and, with heart as buoyant, glide onward and southward. I pass be- tween bold bluffs that hem thy surging waves, and trace with pleasant wonder their singular and varied outlines — now soaring abruptly upward, now carried in gentle undulations along the blue horizon. I be- hold the towering form of that noted land- mark ^'La montaigne qui trempe a Veau^ and the swelling cone on whose summit the soldier-traveller pitched his tent. I glide THE QUADROON. O over the mirrored bosom of Pepin's lake, regarding with admiration its turreted shores. I gaze with deeper interest upon that precipitous escarpment, the "Lover's Leap/' whose rocky w^all has oft echoed back the joyous chaunt of the light-hearted voya- geur, and once a sadder strain — the death- song of Wanona — beautiful Wanona, who sacrificed life to love ! ^ ^P /K 59r 'Ji^ Onward I glide, where the boundless prairies of the West impinge upon thy stream ; and my eye wanders with delight over their fadeless green. I linger a moment to gaze upon the painted warrior spurring his wild steed along thy banks — to gaze upon the Dacotah girls bathing their lithe limbs in thy crystal wave — then on again past the "Cornice Rocks " — the metalliferous shores of Galena and Dubuque — the aerial tomb of the ad- venturous miner. I reach the point where the turbid Mis- 6 THE QUADROON. souri rushes rudely upon thee, as though he would force thee from thy onward course. Poised in my light canoe, I watch the struggle. Pierce but short it is, for thou triumphest, and thy conquered rival is com- pelled to pay his golden tribute to thy flood that rolls majestically onward ! * * « « -^^ Upon thy victorious wave I am borne still southward. I behold huge green mounds — the sole monuments of an ancient people — who once trod thy shores. Near at hand I look upon the dwellings of a far difi*erent race. I behold tall spires soaring to the sky; domes, and cupolas glittering in the sun ; palaces standing upon thy banks, and palaces floating upon thy wave. I be- hold a great city — a metropolis ! I linger not here. I long for the sunny South ; and trusting myself once more to thy current I glide onward. I pass the sea-like estuary of the Ohio, and the embouchure of another of thy migh- THE QUADROON. 7 tiest tributaries, the famed river of the plains. How changed the aspect of thy shores ! I no longer look upon bold bluffs and beetling cliffs. Thou hast broken from the hills that enchained thee, and now rollest far and free, cleaving a wide way through thine own alluvion. Thy very banks are the creation of thine own fancy — the slime thou hast flung from thee in thy moments of wanton play — and thou canst break through their barriers at will. Forests again fringe thee — forests of giant trees — the spreading pJataniis, the tall tulip-tree, and the yellow-green cotton-wood rising in terraced groves from the margin of thy waters. Forests stand upon thy banks, and the Avreck of forests is borne upon thy bub- bling bosom ! * * * * # I pass thy last great affluent, whose crimson flood just tinges the hue of thy waters. Down thy delta I glide, amid scenes rendered classic by the sufferings of 8 THE QUADROON. De Soto — by the adventurous daring of Iberville and La Salle. And here my soul reaches the acme of its admiration. Dead to beauty must be heart and eye that could behold thee here, in this thy southern land, without a thrill of sublimest emotion ! I gaze upon lovely landscapes ever chang- ing, like scenes of enchantment, or the pictures of a panorama. They are the loveliest upon earth — for where are views to compare with thine ? Not upon the Rhine, with its castled rocks — not upon the shores of that ancient inland sea — not among the isles of the Ind. No. In no part of the world are scenes like these ; nowhere is soft beauty blended so harmo- niously with wild picturesqueness. And yet not a mountain meets the eye — not even a hill — but the dark cyprieres, draped with the silvery tillandsia, form a background to the picture with all the grandeur of the pyrogenous granite ! THE QUADROON. 9 The forest no longer fringes thee here. It has long since fallen before the planter's axe ; and the golden sugar-cane, the silvery rice, and the snowy cotton-plant, flourish in its stead. Forest enough has been left to adorn the picture. I behold vegetable forms of tropic aspect, with broad shining foliage — the Sahal palm, the anona, the water- loving tupelo, the catalpa Avith its large trumpet flowers, the melting lic[idd-amhm\ and the wax-leaved magnolia. Blending their foliage with these fair indigenes are an hundred lovely exotics — the orange, lemon, and fig; the Indian lilac and ta- marind ; olives, myrtles, and bromelias \ while the Babylonian willow contrasts its drooping fronds with the erect reeds of the giant cane, or the lance-like blades of the yucca gloriosa. Embowered amidst these beautiful forms I behold villas and mansions of grand and varied aspect — varied as the races of men who dwell beneath their roofs. And varied 10 THE QUADROON. are they; for the nations of the world dwell together upon thy banks — each having sent its tribute to adorn thee with the em- blems of a glorious and universal civilisa- tion. Father of Waters, farewell ! w -Jf tP -^ * Though not born in this fair southern land, I have long lingered there; and I love it even letter tJian the land of my birth, .1 have there spent the hours of bright youth, of adventurous manhood; and the retrospect of these hours is fraught with a thousand memories tinged with a romance that can never die. There my young heart yielded to the influence of Love — a first and virgin love. No wonder the spot should be to me the most hallowed on earth ! Reader ! listen to the story of that love 1 THE QUADROON. 11 CHAPTER 11. SIX MONTHS IN THE CRESCENT CITY. Like other striplings escaped from college, I was 110 longer happy at liome. The yearning for travel was upon me; and I longed to make acquaintance with that world, as yet only known to me through the medium of books. My longing was soon to be gratified; and without a sigh I beheld the hills of my native land sink behind the black waves — not much caring whether I should ever see them again. Though emerging from the walls of a classic college, I was far from being tinc- tured with classic sympathies. Ten years spent in pondering over the wild hyperbole 13 THE QUADROON. of Homer, the mechanical versework of Virgil, and the dry indelicacies of Horatius Flaccus, had failed to imbue me with a perception of that classic beauty. felt, or pretended to be felt, by the spectacled sava7i. My mind was not formed to live on the ideal, or dream over the past. I dehght rather in the real, the positive, and the present. Don Quixotes may play the troubadour among ruined castles, and min- cing misses cover the ground of the guide- books. For my part I have no belief in the romance of old-world life. In the mo- dern Tell I behold a hireHng, ready to barter his brawny limbs to the use of what- ever tyrant ; and the picturesque Mazzaroni, upon closer acquaintance, dwindles down to the standard of a hen-roost thief. Amid the crumbling walls of Athens and the ruins of Rome I encounter inhospitality and hunger. I am not a believer in the pic- turesqueness of poverty. I have no relish for the romance of rags. THE QUADROON. 13 And yet it was a yearning for the ro- mantic that called me from home. I longed for the poetic and picturesque, for I was just at that age when the mind is imbued with its strongest faith in their reality. Ha ! mine is not yet disabused of this be- lief. I am older now, but the hour' of dis- enchantment has not yet come upon me — nor ever will. There is a romance in life, that is no illusion. It lives not in the effete forms and childish ceremonies of the fashion- able drawing-room — it has no illustration in the tinsel trappings and gaudy puerilities of a Court. Stars, garters, and titles are its antidotes ; red cloth and plush the upas- trees of its existence. Its home is elsewhere, amid the grand and sublime scenes of Nature — though these are not necessary accompaniments. It is no more incidental to field and forest, rock, river, and mountain, than to the well-trodden ways of the trading-town. Its home is in human hearts — hearts that throb with high 14 THE QUADROON. aspirations — bosoms that burn with the lioble passions of Liberty and Love ! My steps then were not directed towards classic shores, but to lands of newer and more vigorous life. Westward went I in search of romance. I found it in its most attractive form under the glowing skies of Louisiana. In the month of January, 18 — , I set foot upon the soil of the New World — upon a spot stained with English blood. The polite skipper, who had carried me across the Atlantic, landed me in his gig. I was curious to examine the field of this decisive action ; for at that period of my life I had an inclination for martial affairs. But some- thing more than mere curiosity prompted me to visit the battle - ground of New Orleans. I then held an opinion deemed heterodox • — namely, that the improvised soldier is under certain circumstances quite THE QUADROON. 15 equal to the professional hireling, and that long military drill is not essential to victory. The story of war, superficially studied, would seem to antagonise this theory, which conflicts also with the testimony of all military men. But the testimony of mere military men on such a matter is without value. Who ever heard of a military man who did not desire to have his art considered as mythical as possible ? Moreover, the rulers of the world have spared no pains to imbue their people with false ideas upon this point. It is necessary to put forward some excuse for that terrible incubus upon the nations, the " standing army." My desire to view the battle-ground upon the banks of the Mississippi had chiefly reference to this question. The action itself had been one of my strong arguments in favour of my belief ; for upon this spot some six thousand men — who had never heard the absurd command, "Eyes right! '' — out-gene- ralled, " whipped," in fact nearly annihilated. 16 THE QUADROON. a well-equipped and veteran army of twice their number ! Since standing upon that battle-ground I have carried a sword in more than one field of action. What I then held only as a theory, I have since proved as an experience. The " drill " is a delusion. The standing army a cheat. « ^J « 7^ * In another hour I was wandering through the streets of the Crescent City, no longer thinking of military affairs. My reflections were turned into a far different channel. The social life of the New World, with all its freshness and vigour, was moving before my eyes, like a panorama; and despite of my assumption of the nil admirari, I could not help icondering as I icent. ^ And one of my earliest surprises — one that met me on the very threshold of Trans- atlantic existence — was the discovery of my own utter uselessness. I could point to my, desk and say, " There lie the proofs of ray THE QUADROOX. 17 erudition — the highest prizes of ray college class." But of what use they? The dry theories I had beeu taught had no applica- tion to the purposes of real life. My logic was the prattle of the parrot. My classic lore lay upon my mind like lumber ; and I was altogether about as well prepared to struggle with life — to benefit either my fellow-man or myself — as if I had gradu- ated in Chinese mnemonics. And oh ! ye pale professors, who drilled me in syntax and scansion, ye would deem me ungrateful indeed were I to give utterance to the contempt and indignation which I then felt for ye — then, when I looked back upon ten years of wasted existence spent under your tutelage— then, when, after be- lieving myself an educated man, the illusion vanished, and I awoke to the knowledge that I knew notliing ! ***** With some money in my purse, and very VOL. I. c 18 THE QUADROON. little knowledge in my head, I wandered through the streets of New Orleans, won- dering as I went. Six months later, and I was traversing the same streets, with very little money in my purse, but with my stock of knowledge vastly augmented. During this six months I had acquired an experience of the world more extensive, than in any six years of my previous life. I had paid somewhat dearly for this expe- rience. My travelling fund had melted away in the alembic of cafes, theatres, masque- rades, and " quadroon " balls. Some of it had been deposited in that bank (faro) which returns neither principal nor interest ! I was almost afraid to " take stock " of my affairs. At length with an effort I did so; and found, after paying my hotel bills, a balance in my favour of exactly twenty-five dollars ! Twenty-five dollars to live upon until I could write home, and receive an answer — THE QUADROON. 19 a period of three months at the least — for I am talking of a time antecedent to the introduction of Atlantic steamers. For six months I had been sinning bravely. I was now all repentance, and desirous of making amends. I was even willing to engage in some employment. But my cold classic training, that had not enabled me to protect my purse, was not likely to aid me in replenishing it ; and in all that busy city I could find no office that I was fitted to fill ! Friendless — dispirited — a little disgusted — not a little anxious in regard to my im- mediate future, I sauntered about the streets. My acquaintances w^ere becoming scarcer every day. I missed them from their usual haunts — the haunts of pleasure. Whi- ther had they gone? There was no mystery in their disappear- ance. It was now mid-June. The weather had become intensely hot, and every day the mercury mounted higher upon the c2 20 THE QUADROON. scale. It was already dancing in the neigh- bourhood of 1 00° of Fahrenheit. In a week or two might be expected that annual but unwelcome visitor known by the soubriquet of " Yellow Jack/' whose presence is alike dreaded by young and old ; and it was the terror inspired by him that was driving the fashionable world of New Orleans, like birds of passage, to a northern clime. I am not more courageous than the rest of mankind. I had no inclination to make the acquaintance of this dreaded demon of the swamps ; and it occurred to me, that I, too, had better get out of his way. To do this, it was only necessary to step on board a steamboat, and be carried to one of the up- river towns, beyond the reach of that tropical malaria in which the vomito delights to dwell. St. Louis was at this time the place of most attractive name ; and I resolved to go thither ; though how I was to live there I could not tell — since my funds would just avail to land me on the spot. THE QUADROON, gl Upon reflection, it could scarce be " out of the fryingpan into the fire/' and my re- solution to go to St. Louis became fixed. So, packing up my impedimenta, I stepped on board the steamboat " Belle of the West," bound for the far " City of the Mounds." 22 THE QUADROON. CHAPTER III. THE " BELLE OF THE WEST." I WAS on board at the advertised time ; but punctuality on a Mississippi steamboat must not be expected; and I found myself too early, by a couple of hours at least. The time was not thrown aw^ay. I spent it to some profit in examining the peculiar craft in which I had embarked. I say, pe- culiar ; for the steamers employed upon the Mississippi and its tributary waters are un- like those of any other country — even unlike those in use in the Atlantic or Eastern States. They are strictly "river boats," and could not live in anything like a rough sea ; THE QUADROON. 23 though the reckless owners of some of them have occasionally risked them along the coast from Mobile to Galveston, Texas ! The hull is built Kke that of a sea boat, but differs materially from the latter in depth of hold. So shallow is it, that there is but little stowage-room allowed ; and the surface of the main deck is but a few inches above the water-line. Indeed, when the boat is heavily laden, the waves lip over the gunwales. Upon the deck is placed the machinery; and there rest the huge cast-iron boilers, and the grates or " furnaces," ne- cessarily large, because the propelling power is produced from logs of wood. There, also, most of the freight is stowed, on account of the light capacity of the hold ; and on every part, not occupied by the machinery and boilers, may be seen piles of cotton- bales, hogsheads of tobacco, or bags of corn, rising to the height of many feet. This is the freight of a down-river boat. On the return trip, of course, the commodities are of 24 THE QUADROON. a different character, and consist of boxes of Yankee furniture, farming implements, and " notions," brought round by ship from Boston ; coffee in bags from the West Indies, rice, sugar, oranges, and other pro- ducts of the tropical South. On the after-part of this deck is a space allotted to the humbler class of travellers known as '' deck passengers." These are never Americans. Some are labouring Irish — some poor German emigrants on their way to the far North-West; the rest are negroes — ^free, or more generally slaves. I dismiss the hull by observing that there is a good reason why it is built with so little depth of hold. It is to allow the boats to pass the shoal water in many parts of the river, and particularly during the season of drought. For such purpose the lighter the draught, the greater the advan- tage ; and a Mississippi captain, boasting of the capacity of his boat in this respect, declared, that all he wanted was a heavy THE QUADROON. 25 dew tqwn ilie grass, to enable Mm to pro- pell her across the prairies I If there is but little of a Mississippi steamboat under the water, the reverse is true of what may be seen above its surface. Fancy a two -story house some two hundred feet in length, built of plank, and painted to the whiteness of snow ; fancy along the up- per story a row of green-latticed windows, or rather doors, thickly set, and opening out upon a narrow balcony ; fancy a flattish or shghtly rounded roof covered with tar- red canvas, and in the centre a range of sky- lights like glass forcing-pits ; fancy, tower- ing above all, two enormous black cylin- ders of sheet iron, each ten feet in diameter, and nearly ten times as high, the ''funnels" of the boat ; a smaller cylinder to one side, the " 'scape pipe ;" a tall jflag-stafT standing up from the extreme end of the bow, with the " star-spangled banner " flying from its peak ; — fancy all these, and you may form 26 THE QUADROON. some idea of the characteristic features of a steamboat on the Mississippi. Enter the cabin, and for the first time you will be struck with the novelty of the scene. You will there observe a splendid saloon, perhaps a hundred feet in length, richly carpeted and adorned throughout. You will note the elegance of the furniture, — costly chairs, sofas, tables, and lounges ; you will note the walls, richly gilded and adorned with appropriate designs ; the crystal chandeliers suspended from the ceiling ; the hundred doors that lead to the " state rooms " on each side, and the im- mense folding-door of stained or ornamental glass, which shuts in the sacred precinct of the " ladies' saloon." In short, you will note all around you a style and luxuriance to which you, as a European traveller, have not been accustomed. You have only read of such a scene in some Oriental tale — in Mary Montagu, or the " Arabian Nights." THE QUADROON. 27 And yet all this magnificence is some- times sadly at variance with the style of the company that occupies it — for this splendid saloon is as much the property of the coarse " rowdy " as of the refined gentleman. You are startled by the apparition of a rough horse-skin boot elevated along the edge of the shining mahogany ; and a dash of brown nicotian juice may have somewhat altered the pattern of the carpet ! But these things are exceptional — more exceptional now than in the times of which I write. ***** Having satisfied myself with examining the interior structure of the " Belle of the West," I sauntered out in front of the cabin. Here a large open space, usually known as the " awning," forms an excellent lounging-place for the male passengers. It is simply the continuation of the " cabin deck,'' projected forward and supported by pillars that rest upon the main deck below. The roof, or " hurricane deck," also carried 28 THE QUADROON. forward to the same point, and resting on slight wooden props, screens this part from sun or rain, and a low guard-rail running around it renders it safe. Being open in front and at both sides, it affords the best view ; and having the advantage of a cool breeze, brought about by the motion of thje boat, is usually a favourite resort. A num- ber of chairs are here placed to accom- modate the passengers, and smoking is permitted. He must take very little interest in the movements of human life, who cannot kill an hour by observing it upon the " Levee " of New Orleans ; and having seated myself and lighted my cigar, I proceeded to spend an hour in that interesting occu- pation. THE QUADROON. 29 CHAPTER lY. THE RIVAL BOATS. The part of the " Levee " under my eyes was that known as the " Steam- boat Landing." Some twenty or thirty boats lay along a series of wooden wharves that projected slightly into the riyer. Some had just arrived from up-river towns, and were discharging their freight and passen- gers, at this season a scanty list. Others, surrounded by a busthng swarm, were get- ting up steam ; while still others appeared to be abandoned by both officers and crew^ — who were no doubt at the time enjoying themselves in the brilliant cafes and restau- rants. Occasionally might be seen a 30 THE QUADROON. jauntily-dressed clerk, with blue cottonade trowsers, white Hneii coat, costly Panama hat, shirt with cambric ruffles, and diamond studs. This stylish gentleman would ap- pear for a few minutes by one of the de- serted boats — perhaps transact a little busi- ness with some one — and then hurry off agahi to his more pleasant haunts in the city. There were too points upon the Levee where the bustle of active life was more especially observable. These were the spaces in front of t^vo large boats. One was that on which I had taken passage. The other, as I could read upon her wheel- house, was the " Magnoha." The latter was also upon the eve of starting, as I could tel] by the movements of her people, by the red fires seen in her furnaces, and the hissing of steam, that every now and then screamed sharply from the direction of her boilers. On the Levee directly in front of her " drays " were depositing their last loads, THE QUADROON. 31 passengers were hurrying forward hat-box in hand, in fear they might be too late; trunks, boxes, bags, and barrels were being rudely pushed or rolled over the staging- planks ; the gaily-dressed clerks, armed with book and pencil, were checking them off; and everything denoted the intention of a speedy departure. A scene exactly simi- lar was being enacted in front of the ''Belle of the West." I had not been regarding these movements very long, before I observed that there was something unusual "in the wind." The boats lay at no great distance from each other ; and their crews, by a slight elevation of voice, could converse. This they were freely doing; and from some expressions that reached me, coupled with a certain tone of defiance in which they were uttered, I could perceive that the " Magnoha " and " Belle of the West " were "rival boats." I soon gathered the further information, that they were about to 32 THE QUADROON. start at the same time, and that a " race " was in contemplation ! I knew that this was no unusual occur- rence among what are termed '' crack " boats, and both the "Belle" and her rival came under that category. Both were of the first class in size and magnificence of fitting ; both ran in the same " trade/' that is from New Orleans to St. Louis ; and both were commanded by well-known and popular river " captains." They could not be other- wise than rivals ; and this feeling was shared in by the crews of both, from cap- tain to cabin slave. As regards the owners and officers in such cases, there is a substantial money mo- tive at the bottom of this rivahy. The boat that " whips " in one of these races, wins also the future patronage of the public. The " fast boat " becomes the fashionable boat, and is ever afterwards sure of a strong list of passengers at a high rate of fare — for THE QUADROON. 33 there is this peculiarity among Americans : many of them will spend their last dollar to be able to say at the end of his journey that he came upon the fashionable boat, just as in England you find many people desirous of making it known that they travelled *' first class." Snobbery is pecuhar to no country — it appears to be universal. With regard to the contemplated trial of speed between the "Belle of the West" and the " Magnolia," the feeling of rivalry per- vaded not only the crews of both boats, but I soon discovered that the passengers were affected with it. Most of these seemed as eager for the race as an English black- leg for the Derby. Some no doubt looked forward to the sport and excitement, but I soon perceived that the greater number were betting upon the result ! " The Belle's boun' to win ! " cried a gold-studded vulgar-looking fellow at my shoulder. " I'll go twenty dollars on the Belle ! Will you bet, stranger? " VOL. I. D 34 THE QUADROON. "No," I replied, somewhat angrily, as the fellow had taken a liberty by laying his hand on my shoulder. "Well," retorted he, "jest as you like ^bout that;" and addressing himself to some one else he continued, "The Belle's the conquering boat for twenty dollars ! Twenty dollars on the Belle ! " I confess I had no very pleasant reflec- tions at that moment. It was my first trip upon an American steamboat, and my memory was brimful of stories of "boiler bm'stings," " snaggings," " blowings up," and boats on fire. I had heard that these races not unfrequently resulted in one or other of the above-named catastrophes, and I had reason to know that my information was correct. Many of the passengers — the more sober and respectable ones — shared my feelings ; and some talked of appealing to the Captain not to allow^ the race. But they knew they were in the minority, and held theii' peace. THE QUADROON. 35 I had made up my mind at least to ask the Captain " his intentions." I was prompted rather by curiosity than by any other motive. I left my seat, therefore, and having crossed the staging, walked toward the top of the wharf, where this gentleman was standing. d2 36 THE QUADROON. CHAPTER Y. A DESIRABLE FELLOW-PASSENGER. Before I had entered into conversation with the Captain, I saw a barouche approaching on the opposite side, apparently coming from the French quarter of the city. It was a handsome equipage, driven by a well-clad and evidently well-fed black, and as it drew near, I could perceive that it Avas occupied by a young and elegantly attired lady. I cannot say why, but I felt a presenti- ment, accompanied perhaps by a silent wish, that the occupant of the barouche was about to be a fellow-passenger. It was not long before I learnt that such w^as her in- tention. THE QUADROON. 37 The barouche drew up on the crest of the Levee, and I saw the lady directing some inquiry to a bystander, who imme- diately pointed to our captain. The latter, perceiving that he was the object inquired after, stepped up to the side of the carriage, and bowed to the lady. I was close to the spot, and every word reached me. " Monsieur ! are you the captain of the Belle of the West ?" The lady spoke in French, a smattering of which the Captain in his intercourse with the Creoles had picked up. " Yes, madame," was the reply. " I wish to take passage with you." " I shall be most happy to accommodate you, madame. There is still one state-room disengaged, I believe, Mr. Shirley?" Here the Captain appealed to the clerk, in order to ascertain if such was the case. " Never mind ! " said the lady, inter- rupting him, "for the matter of a state- room it is of no importance ! You will 38 THE QUADROON. reach my plantation before midnight, and therefore I shall not require to sleep aboard/' The phrase, "my plantation," evidently had an effect upon the Captain. Naturally not a rude man, it seemed to render him still more attentive and polite. The pro- prietor of a Louisiana plantation is a some- body not to be treated with nonchalance; but, when that proprietor chances to be a young and charming lady, who could be otherwise than amiable ? Not Captain B., commander of the "Belle of the West!" The verv name of his boat nesratived the presiunption ! Smiling blandly, he inquired where he w^as to land his fair charge. " At Bringiers," repHed the lady. " My residence is a little below, but our landing is not a good one; besides, there is some freight which it would be better to put ashore at Bringiers." Here the occupant of the barouche pointed to a train of drays, loaded with barrels and THE QUADROON. 39 boxes, that had just driven up, and halted in the rear of the carriage. The sight of the freight had a still fur- ther pleasant effect on the Captain, who was himself part owner of his boat. He became profuse in offers of service, and expressed his willingness to accommodate his new passenger in every way she might desire. " Monsieur Capitaine," continued this handsome lady, still remaining seated in her carriage, and speaking in a tone of good- natured seriousness, " I must make one condition with you." '' Please to name it, madame?" " Well then ! It is reported that your boat is likely to have a race with some other one. If that be so, I cannot become your passenger." The Captain looked somewhat discon- certed. " The fact is," continued she, " I had a 40 THE QUADROON. narrow escape once before, and I am deter- mined to run no such risk in future." ** Madame /' stammered the Cap- tain — then hesitating "Oh, then!" interrupted the lady, ''if you cannot give me the assurance that you will not race, I must wait for some other boat." The Captain hung his head for some seconds. He was evidently reflecting upon his answer. To be thus denied the antici- pated excitement and pleasure of the race — the victory which he confidently expected, and its grand consequences; to appear, as it were, afraid of trying the speed of his boat ; afraid that she would be beaten ; would give his rival a large opportunity for future bragging, and would place himself in no enviable light in the eyes of his crew and passengers — all of whom had already made up their minds for a race. On the other hand, to refuse the request of the lady — not very THE QUADROON. 41 unreasonable when properly viewed — and still more reasonable when it was considered that that lady was the proprietress of several drayloads of freight, and when still further considered that that lady was a rich, jolantress of the " French coast," and might see fit next fall to send several hundred casks of sugar and as many hogsheads of tobacco down on his (the Captain's) boat ; — these considera- tions, I say, made the request quite reason- able. And so we suppose, upon reflection, it must have appeared to Captain B , for after a little hesitation he granted it. Not with the best grace, however. It evidently cost him a struggle ; but interest prevailed, and he granted it. " I accept your conditions, madame. The boat shall 7iot run. I give you my promise to that effect." " Assez ! thanks ! Monsieur le Capitaine ; I am greatly obhged to you. If you will be so good as to have my freight taken aboard. The carriage goes along. This 42 THE QUADROON. gentleman is my steward. Here, Antoine ! He will look to everything. And now pray, Capitaine, when do you contemplate start- mg? " In fifteen minutes, madame, at the latest." " Are you sure of that, mon Capitaine ?" she inquired, with a significant laugh, which told she was no stranger to the want of punc- tuality of the boats. " Quite sure, madame," replied the Cap- tain ; " you may depend on the time." "Ah! then, I shall go aboard at once!" And, so saying, she lightly tripped down the steps of the 'barouche, and giving her arm to the Captain, who had gallantly prof- fered himself, was conducted to the ladies' cabin, and of course for a time lost to the admiring eyes, not only of myself, but of a goodly number of others who had abeady been attracted to gaze upon this beautiful apparition. THE QUADROON. 43 CHAPTER VI. ANTOINE THE STEWARD. I HAD been very much struck by the ap- pearance of this dame. Not so much on account of her physical beauty — though that was of a rare kind — as by the air that characterised her. I should feel a difficulty in describing this, which consisted in a certain hraverie that bespoke courage and self-possession. There was no coarseness of manner — only the levity of a heart gay as summer, and light as gossamer, but capable, when occasion required, of exhi- biting a wonderful boldness and strength. She was a woman that would be termed beautiful in any country ; but with her beauty there was combined elegance, both 44 THE QUADROON. in dress and manner, that told you at once she was a lady accustomed to society and the world. And this, although still young — she certainly could not have been much over twenty. Louisiana has a pre- cocious climate, however; and a Creole of twenty will count for an Englislnvoman of ten years older. Was she married? I could not bring myself to think so ; besides the expressions, *' my plantation" and " my steward," would scarcely have been used by a lady who had " somebody" at home, unless, indeed, that somebody were held in very low estimation — in short, considered a "nobody." A widow she might be — a very young widow — but even that did not seem to me pro- bable. She had not the '' cut" of a widow in my eyes, and there was not the sem- blance of a " weed" either about her dress or her looks. The Captain had styled her Madame, but he was evidently unacquainted with her, and also with the French idiom. THE QUADROON. 45 In a doubtful case such as this, it should have been " Mademoiselle." Inexperienced as I Avas at the time — " green/' as the Americans have it — I was not without some curiosity in regard to women, especially when these chanced to be beautiful. My curiosity in the present case had been stimulated by several circum- stances. First, by the attractive loveliness of the lady herself; second, by the style of her conversation and the facts it had re- vealed ; thii'd, by the circumstance that the lady was, or I fancied her to be, a " Creole." I had as yet had but little intercourse with people of this peculiar race, and was some- what curious to know more about them. I had found them by no means ready to open their doors to the Saxon stranger — espe- cially the old " Creole noblesse^ who even to this hour reo;ard their An do- American fellow-citizens somewhat in the light of invaders and usurpers ! This feeling was 46 THE QUADROON. at one time deeply rooted. With time, however, it is dying out. A fourth spur to my curiosity was found in the fact, that the lady in passing had eyed me with a glance of more than ordi- nary inquisitiveness. Do not be too hasty in blaming me for this declaration. Hear me first. I did not for a moment fancy that that glance was one of admiration. I had no such thoughts. I was too young at the time to flatter myself with such fancies. Besides, at that precise moment I was far from being "in my zenith." With scarce five dollars in my purse, I felt rather forlorn ; and how could I have fancied that a brilliant beauty such as she — a star of first magnitude — a rich pro- prietress — the owner of a plantation, a steward, and a host of slaves — would con- descend to look admiringly on such a friendless wretch as I ? In truth, I did not flatter myself with THE QUADROON. 47 such thoughts. I supposed that it was simple curiosity on her part — and no more. She saw that I was not of her own race. My complexion — the colour of my eyes — the cut of my garments — perhaps something gaudle in my manner — told her I was a stranger to the soil, and that had excited her interest for a passing moment. A mere ethnological reflection — nothing more. The act, however, had helped to pique my curiosity ; and I felt desirous of knowing at least the name of this distinguished crea- ture. The " steward," thought I, may serve my purpose ; and I turned towards that individual. He was a tall, grey-haired, lathy, old Frenchman, well-dressed, and sufficiently respectable-looking to have passed for the lady's father. His aspect, too, was quite venerable, giving you the idea of long ser- vice and a very old family. I saw, as I approached him, that my 48 THE QUADROON. chances were but indifferent. I found him as " close as a clam." Our conversation was very brief; his answers laconic. " Monsieur, may I ask who is your mis- tress?" " A lady." " True : any one may tell that who has the good fortune of looking at her. It was her name I asked for." " It does not concern you to know it." " Not if it be of so much importance to keep it a secret 1 " " Sacr-r-re ! '' This exclamation, muttered, rather than spoken aloud, ended the dialogue ; and the old fellow turned away on giving expression to it — no doubt cursing me in his heart as a meddling Yankee. I applied myself to the sable Jehu of the barouche, but with no better success. He was getting his horses aboard, and not liking to give direct answers to mj ques- tions, he " dodged " them by dodging THE QUADllOON. 49 around his horses, and appearing to be very busy on the ofiP-side. Even the name I was unable to get out of him, and I also gave him up in despair. The name, however, was furnished me shortly after from an unexpected source. I had returned to the boat, and had seated myself once more under the awning, watch- ing the boatmen, with rolled-up red shirts, use their brawny arms in getting their freight aboard. I saw it was the same which had been delivered from the drays — the property of the lady. It consisted, for the most part, of barrels of pork and flour, with a quan- tity of dried hams, and some bags of coffee. " Provisions for her large estabhshment," soliloquised I. Just then some packages of a different character w^ere pushed upon the staging. These were leathern trunks, travelling bags, rosewood cases, bonnet-boxes, and the like. '' Ha ! her personal luggage," I again reflected, and continued to puff my cigar. VOL. I. E 50 THE QUADROON. Regarding the transfer of the trunks, ray eye was suddenly attracted to some lettering that appeared upon one of the packages — a leathern portmanteau. I sprang from my seat, and as the article was carried up the gangway stair I met it halfway. I glanced my eye over the lettering, and read— "-Mademoiselle Biigenie Besancon!' THE QUADROON. 51 CHAPTER VIL THE STARTING. The last bell rings — the " can't-get-away" folks rush ashore — the staging plank is drawn in — some heedless wight has to jump for it — the cable is pulled aboard and coiled — the engineer's bell tinkles — the great wheels revolve, lashing the brown water into foam — the steam " whistles " and screams at the boilers, and booms from the scape-pipe in regular repetitions — neigh- bouring boats are pressed out of their places — their planks cringe and crackle — guards are broken, or the slight timbers of wheel- houses, causing a cross-fire of curses be- tween the crews — and after some minutes of this pandemoniac confusion, the huge E 2 LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF ILUNOiS 52 THE QUADROON. craft clears herself, and rides out upon the broad bosom of the river. She heads up stream; a few strokes of the revolving paddles and the current is mastered; and the noble boat yielding to the mighty propulsion, cleaves her liquid way, "walking the water like a thing of life!" Perchance the boom of a cannon an- nounces her departure ; perchance it is ani- mated by the harmonious swell of brazen instruments; or still more appropriate, some old " boatman's song," with its lively chorus, is heard issuing from the rude, though not unmusical throats of the " hands " below. Lafayette and Carrolton are soon passed ; the humbler roofs of stores and dwellings sink out of sight ; and the noble dome of St. Charles, the spires of churches, and the towers of the great cathedral, are all of the Crescent City that remain above the horizon. These, at length, go down ; and the "floating palace" moves on in stately THE QUADROON. 58 grandeur between the picturesque shores of the Mississippi. I have said " picturesque." This word does not satisfy me, nor can I think of one that will delineate my idea. I must make use of a phrase, " picturesquely beautiful," to express my admiration of the scenery of those shores. I have no hesitation in pro- nouncing it the finest in the world. I am not gazing upon it with a mere cold eye-glance. I cannot separate scenery from its associations — not its associations of the past, but with the present. I look upon the ruined castles of the Rhine, and their story impresses me with a feeling of disgust for what Itas been. I look upon its modern homes and their dwellers; I am equally filled with disgust for what is. In the Bay of Naples I experience a similar feeling, and roaming "around" the lordly parks of England, I see them through an enclosure of wretchedness and rags, till their loveli- ness seems an illusion ! 54 THE QUADROON. Here alone, upon the banks of this ma- jestic river, do I behold wealth widely dif- fused, intelligence broad-cast, and comfort for all. Here, in almost every house, do I meet the refined taste of high civilisation — the hospitality of generous hearts combined with the power to dispense it. Here can I converse with men by thousands, whose souls are free — not politically alone, but free from vulgar error and fanatic superstition ; here, in short, have I witnessed, not the perfectedness — for that belongs to a far future time — but the most advanced stage of civilisation yet reached upon the globe. A dark shadow crosses my eye-glance, and my heart is stung with sudden pain. It is the shadow of a human being with a black skin. He is a slave I For a moment or two the scene looks black ! What is there to admire here — in these fields of golden sugar-cane, of waving maize, of snow-white cotton ? What to ad- mire in those grand mansions, with their THE QUADROON. 55 orangeries, their flowery gardens, tlieir drooping shade-trees, and their soft ar- bours? All this is but the sweat of the slave ! For a while I behold without admiring. The scene has lost its coideur de rose ; and a gloomy wilderness is before me ! I reflect. Slowly and gradually the cloud passes away, and the brightness returns. I reflect and compare. True, he with the black skin is a slave — but not a voluntary slave. That is a dif- ference in his favom' at least. In other lands — mine own among them — I see around me slaves as well, and far more numerous. Not the slaves of an indi- vidual, but of an association of individuals — a class — an oligarchy. Not slaves of the corvee — serfs of the feud — but victims of its modern representative the tax, which is simply its commutation, and equally baneful in its effects. 56 THE QUADROON. On my soul, I hold that the slavery of the Louisiana black is less degrading than that of the white pleb of England. The poor, woolly-headed helot is the victim of conquest, and may claim to place himself in the honourable category of a prisoner of war. He has not willed his own bondage ;- while you, my grocer, and butcher, and baker — aye, and you, my fine city mer- chant, who fondly fancy yourself a freeman — ye are voluntary in your serfdom ; ye are loyal to a political juggle that annually robs ye of half your year's industry ; that annu- ally requires some hundred thousands of your class to be sloughed off into exile, lest your whole body should gangrene and die. And all this without even a protest. Nay, worse — you are ever ready to cry "crucify" to him who would attempt to counteract this condition — ever ready to glorify the man and the motion that would fix another rivet in your fetters ! THE QUADROON. 57 Even while I write, the man who loves you least; he who for forty years — for all his life, in fact — has been your systematic enemy, is the most popular of your rulers ! Even while I write the Roman wheel is revolving before your eyes, squibs and crackers sound sweetly in your ears, and you are screaming forth your rejoicings over the acts of a convention that had for its sole object the strengthening of your chains ! But a short twelve months ago, you were just as enthusiastic for a war that was equally antagonistic to your interests, equally hostile to the liberties of your kind I Miserable delusion ! I repeat what I have uttered with a feeling of solemnity. On my soul, I hold that the slavery of the Louisiana black is less degrading than that of the white pleb of En dan d. True, this black man is a slave, and there are three millions of his race in the 58 THE QUADROON. same condition. Painful thought ! but less painful when accompanied by the reflection that the same broad land is trodden by tioeniy millions of free and sovereign men. Three millions of slaves to twenty mil- lions of masters ! In mine own land the proportion is exactly reversed ! The truth may be obscure. For all that, I dare say there are some who will under- stand it. Ah ! how pleasant to turn from these heart-stirring but painful thoughts to the calmer contemplation of themes furnished by science and nature. How sweet was it to study the many novel forms that pre- sented themselves to my eyes on the shores of that magnificent stream ! There is a pleasaunce even in the retrospect ; and as I now sit dreaming over them far away — perhaps never more to behold them with THE QUADROON. 59 mortal eye — I am consoled by a fond and faithful memory, whose magic power en- ables me to recall them before the eye of my mind in all their vivid coloming of green and gold! 60 THE QUADROON CHAPTER VIII. THE " coast" of the MISSISSIPPI. As soon as we had fairly started, I as- cended to the " hurricane deck/' in order to obtain a better view of the scenery through which we were passing. In this place I was alone ; for the silent pilot, boxed up in his little tower of glass, could hardly be called a companion. I make the following observations : The breadth of the Mississippi river has been much exaggerated. It is here about half a mile wide. Sometimes more, occa- sionally less. (This average width it pre- serves for more than a thousand miles from its mouth.) Its waters run at the rate of three or four miles to the hour, and are THE QUADROON. 61 of a yellowish cast, with a shght tincture of red. The yellow colour it derives from the Missouri, while the deeper tint is obtained by the influx of the '' Red." Driftwood floats thickly upon its surface; here in single logs, there in raft-like clus- ters. To run a boat against one of these is attended with danger, and the pilot avoids them. Sometimes one swimming below the surface escapes his eye; and then a heavy bumping against the bows shakes the boat, and startles the equanimity of the less expe- rienced passengers. The " snag " is most dreaded. That is a dead tree with heavy roots still adhering. These, from their weight, have settled upon the bottom, and the debris gathering around holds them firmly imbedded. The lighter top, riven of its branches, rises towards the surface; but the pressure of the current prevents it from attaining to the perpendicular, and it is held in a slanting position. When its top rises above the water, the danger is but 62 THE QUADROON. trifling — unless in a very dark night. It is when the top is hidden a foot or two below the surface that the snag is feared. Then a boat running upon it up stream, is lost to a certainty. The roots firmly imbedded in the bottom mud, prevent the pile from yielding ; and the top, usually a spiky one, penetrates the bow timbers of the boat, sinking her almost instantly. A boat pro- perly " snagged " will go down in a few minutes. The " sawyer " is a log fixed in the water similarly to the snag, but kept bobbing up and down by the current, thus suggesting the idea of a sawyer engaged at his work — hence the name. A boat getting a-ground upon a sunken log crosswise, is sometimes snagged upon its branches, and sometimes broken into two pieces by the pressure of her own weight. Among the drift, I notice odd matters that interest me. Stalks of sugar-cane that have been crushed in the press-mill, (a THE QUADROOX. 63 hundred miles farther up I should not meet these,) leaves and stems of the maize plant, corn cobs, pieces of broken gourd shell, tufts of raw cotton, split fence-rails, now and then the carcase of some animal, with a buzzard or black vulture {Cathartes aura and atratus) perched upon it, or hovering above. I am within the geographical range of the alligator, but here the great Saurian is seldom seen. He prefers the more slug- gish hayous, or the streams whose shores ■are still vvild. In the rapid current of the Mississippi, and along its well-cultivated banks, he is but rarely observed by the passing traveller. Alternately the boat approaches both shores of the river (" coasts '' they are called). The land is an alluvion of no very ancient formation. It is a mere strip of terra firma^ varying in breadth from a few hundred yards to several miles, and gradually declining from the banks, so that 64 THE QUADROON. the river is actually running along the top of a ridge ! Beyond this strip commences the " Swamp," a tract that is annually inundated, and consists of a series of la- goons and marshes covered with coarse grass and reeds. This extends in some places for a score of miles, or even farther — a complete wilderness of morass. Some portions of this — where the inundation is only annual — are covered with dark and almost impenetrable forests. Between the cultivated strip on the immediate bank of the river, and the " Swamp " in the rear, runs a l)elt of this forest, w^hich forms a kind of background to the picture, answer- ing to the mountain ranges in other lands. It is a high dark forest, principally com- posed of cypress trees {Cupressus disficha). But there are other kinds peculiar to this soil, such as the sweet gum (Liquidamhar styraciflica), the live-oak {Qiierciis virens), the tupelo {Ni/ssa aquatico), the water- locust {Glediischia aqiiaticd), the cotton- THE QUADROON. 65 wood {Populiis angulatd), with carya, celtiSy and various species of acer, cornus,ju(/Ians, magnolia, and oaks. Here an underwood of palmettoes, {Sahal palms), ^ smilaoc, llianes, and various species of vUis ; there thick brakes of cane {Anmdo giganted), grow among the trees; while from their branches is suspended in long festoons that singular parasite, the " Spanish moss," iTillandsia tisneoides,) imparting a sombre character to the forest. Between this dank forest and the river banks lie the cultivated fields. The river current is often several feet above their level; but they are protected by the " Levee,'* an artificial embankment which has been formed on both sides of the river, to a distance of several hundred miles from its mouth. In these fields I observe the culture of the sugar-cane, of the rice-plant, of tobacco and cotton, of indigo and maize. I see the " gangs " of black slaves at their work, in VOL. I. r 66 THE aUADROON. their cotton dresses of striped and gaudy colours, in which sky-blue predominates. I see huge waggons drawn by mules or oxen returning from the cane-fields, or slowly toiling along the banks. I see the light-bodied Creole, in " cottonade " jacket and trowsers of bright blue, mounted upon his small Spanish horse, and galloping along the Levee road. I see the grand mansion of the planter, with its orange groves and gardens, its green Venetians, cool verandahs, and pretty palings. I see the huge sugar- house, or tobacco-shed, or cotton "pick- ery ;" and there too are the neat " cabins," clustering together or running in a row like the bathing-boxes at a fashionable w^atering-place. Now we are passing a plantation where they are making merry — a fete champetre. Many horses stand under the trees, " hitched " in the shade with saddles od, not a few of which are " ladies' saddles." In the verandah, the lawn, and through the THE QUADROON. 67 orange shrubbery, may be seen moving about gentlemen and ladies richly attired. Music is heard, and there is dancing in the open air. One cannot help envying these happy Creoles the enjoyment of their Arca- dian life. Scenes varied and lovely were passing panorama-like before my eyes. Lost in admiration of them, I had for the moment forgotten Eugenie Besangon, f2 68 THE QUADROON. CHAPTER IX. EUGENIE BESANCON No, Eugenie Besancon was not forgotten. Every now and then her sylph -like form flitted before my imagination, and I could not help associating it with the scenery through which we were passing, and amidst which, no doubt, she was born and nur- tured — its fair indigene. The glimpse of the fete champetre, where several Creole- like girls were conspicuous, brought her more forcibly into my thoughts ; and, de- scending from the hurricane deck, I entered the cabin with some curiosity, once more to look upon this interesting lady. Eor some time I dreaded disappointment. The great glass folding-door of the ladies' THE QUADROON. 69 cabin was closed ; and although there were several ladies outside in the main saloon, the Creole was not among the number. The ladies' cabin, which occupies the after- part of the boat, is a sacred precinct, into which bachelors are admitted only when they enjoy the privilege of having a friend inside — then only at certain hours. I was not one of the privileged. Out of the hundred and odd passengers on board, I did not know a soul, male or female; and I had the happiness or misfortune of being equally unknown to them. Under these circumstances my entry into the ladies' cabin would have been deemed an intrusion ; and I sat down in the main saloon, and occupied myself in studying the physiognomy and noting the movements of my fellow-passengers. They were a mixed throng. Some w^ere wealthy merchants, bankers, money or com- mission brokers from New Orleans, with their wives and daughters, on their annual 70 THE QUADROON. migration to the north, to escape from the yellow fever, and indulge in the more plea- sant epidemic of life at a fashionable water- ing-place. There were corn and cotton- planters from the up-country, on their re- turn home, and storekeepers from the up- river towns ; boatmen who, in jean trow- sers and red flannel shirts, had pushed a " flat " two thousand miles down stream, and who were now making the back trip in shining broadcloth and snow-white linen. What "lions" would these be on getting back to their homes about the sources of Salt River, the Cumberland, the Licking, or the Miami ! There were Creoles, too, — old wine merchants of the French quarter — and their families ; the men distinguished by a superabundance of ruffles, plaited pan- taloons, shining jewellery, and light-coloured cloth boots. There was a sprinkling of jauntily-dressed clerks, privileged to leave New Orleans in the dull season ; and there were some still THE QUADROON. 71 more richly-dressed gentlemen, with the finest of cloth in their coats, the whitest of linen and ruffles, the brightest of dia- monds in their studs, and the most massive of finger-rings. These last were " sportsmen." They had already gathered around a table in the " smokiug-saloon," and were fingering a span new pack of cards — the implements of their pecuhar industry. Among these I observed the fellow who had so loudly challenged me to bet upon the boat-race. He had passed me several times, regarding me with a glance that appeared anything but friendly. Our close friend the steward was seated in the saloon. You must not suppose that his holding the office of steward, or overseer, disentitled him to the privileges of the first-class cabin. There is no '' second saloon " on board an American steamer. Such a distinction is not known so far west as the Mississippi. 73 THE QUADROON. The " overseers" of plantations are usually men of rude and brutal dispositions. The very nature of their calling makes them so. This Frenchman, however, seemed to be an exception. He appeared a most respectable old gentleman. I rather liked his looks, and began to feel quite an interest in him, though he by no means appeared to reci- procate the feeling. * iif « * * Some one complained of the mosquitoes, and suggested the opening of the folding- doors of the ladies' cabin. This suggestion was backed up by several others — ladies and gentlemen. The clerk of the boat is the man charged with such responsibilities. He was at length appealed to. The appeal was reasonable — it was successful ; and the great gates of the steamboat Paradise were thrown open. The result was a cur- rent of air which swept through the long saloon from stem to stern ; and in less than five minutes not a mosquito remained on THE QUADROON. 73 board, except such as had escaped the blast by taking shelter in the state-rooms. This was certainly a great relief. The folding-doors were permitted to re- main open — an arrangement quite satisfac- tory to all, but particularly to a number of the gaily-dressed young clerks, who could now command a full view of the interior of the harem. Several of them might be observed taking advantage of the new ar- rangement — not staring broadly, as that Avould be accounted rude and noted against them. They only appealed to the sacred shrine by side-glances, or over books which they pretended to read, or pacing up and down approached the favoured limit, glan- cing in at intervals, as if undesignedly. Some appeared to have acquaintances inside, though not upon terms of sufficient fami- liarity to give them the right of entry. Others were in hopes of making acquaint- ances, should opportunity offer. I could detect expressive looks, and occasionally a 74 THE QUADROON. smile that seemed to denote a mutual in- telligence. Many a pleasant thought is con- veyed without words. The tongue is often a sad disenchanter. I have known it to spoil many a nice love-plot silently con- ceived, and almost ripe for being carried out. I was amused at this speechless panto- mime, and sat for some minutes regarding it. My eyes w^andered at intervals towards the interior of the ladies' saloon, guided thither partly by a common curiosity. I have an observant habit. Anything new interests me, and this cabin-life on an American steamboat was entirely new, and not a little piquante. I desired to study it. Perhaps I was somewhat interested in another way — desirous of having one more look at the young Creole, Besangon. My desire, then, was gratified. I saw the lady at last. She had come out of her state-room, and was moving around the sa- loon, graceful and gay. She was now un- THE QUADROON. 75 bonneted, and her rich golden tresses were arranged a la Chinoise — a Creole fashion as well. The thick masses, coiled into a large "club" at the -back of the head, denoted the luxuriance of her hair ; and the style of coiffure, displaying her noble forehead and finely-formed neck, became her well. Fair hair with blonde complexion, although rare among the Creoles, is sometimes met with. Dark hair with a brunette skin is the rule, to which Eugenie Besan9on was a remark- able exception. Her features expressed gaiety, approach- ing to volatihty; yet one could not help feeling that there was firmness of character 671 perdu. Her figure was beyond criti- cism ; and the face, if not strikingly beauti- ful, was one that you could not look upon without emotions of pleasure. She appeared to know some of her fel- low-passengers — at least she was conversing with them in a style of easy freedom. Women, however, rarely exhibit embarrass- 76 THE QUADROON. merit among themselves \ women of French race, never. One thmg I observed — her cabin com- panions appeared to regard her with defe- rence. Perhaps they had already learnt that the handsome carriage and horses be- longed to her. That was very, very likely ! I continued to gaze upon this interesting lady. Girl I cannot call her, for although young enough, she had the air of a woman — a woman of experience. She appeared quite at ease ; seemed mistress of herself, and indeed of everything else. "What an Eiir oi insouciance / " thought I. " That woman is not in love ! " I cannot tell why I should have made these reflections, or why the thought pleased me; but certainly it did. Why? She was nothing to me — she was far above me. I dared scarce look upon her. I regarded her as some superior being, and with timid stolen glances, as I would regard beauty in a church. Ho ! she was nothing to me. THE QUADROON. 77 In another hour it would be night, and she was to land in the night ; I should never see her again ! I should think of her though for an hour or two, perhaps for a day — the longer that I v/as now foolisli enough to sit gazing upon her ! I was weaving a net for myself — a little agony that might last for some time after she was gone. I had formed a resolution to withdraw from the fascinatino; influence, and return to mv meditation on the hm-ricane deck. A last look at the fair Creole, and I should depart. Just at that moment she flung herself into a chair. It was of the kind known as a " rocking-chair," and its motions displayed the fine proportion and outlines of her form. As she now sat she w^as facing the door, and her eye for the first time rested upon me. By Heavens ! she Avas gazing on me just as before ! What meant that strange glance? those burning eyes? Steadfast 78 THE QUADROON. and fixed, they remained bent upon mine — and mine trembled to answer them ! Thus for some moments her eyes dwelt upon me, without motion or change of direc- tion. I was too young at that time to understand the expression that was in them. I could translate such an one after- wards, but not then. At length she rose from her seat with an air of uneasiness, as if displeased either with herself or me ; and, turning away her head, she opened the latticed door and passed into her state-room. Had I done anything to give offence? No ! not by word, nor look, nor gesture. I had not spoken — I had not moved, and my timid glance could not have been con- strued into one of rudeness. I was somewhat bewildered by the conduct of Mademoiselle Besan9on; and, THE QUADROON. 79 in the full belief that I should never see her again, I hurried away from the saloon, and once more climbed up to the hurricane deck. 80 THE QUADROON. CHAPTER X. A NEW MODE OF RAISING THE STEAM. It was near sunset — the fiery disc was going down behind the dark outline of cypress forest that belted the western ho- rizon, and a yellow light fell upon the river. Promenading back and forward upon the canvas-covered roof, I was gazing upon the scene, wrapt in admiration of its glowing beauty. My reverie was interrupted. On looking down the river I saw^ that a large boat was in our wake, and coming rapidly after us. The volume of smoke rolling up out of her tall funnels, and the red glowing of her fires, showed that she w^as moving under a full head of steam. Her size, as THE QUADROON. 81 well as the loud reports of her 'scape-pipe, told that she was a boat of the first class. She was the '' Magnolia." She was moving with great velocity, and I had not watched her long, before I perceived that she was fast gaining upon us. At this moment my ears were assailed by a variety of sounds coming from below. Loud voices in earnest tones, the stamping and pattering of feet, as of men rushing over the wooden decks and along the guard- ways. The voices of women, too, were mingled in the medley. I surmised what all this meant. The approach of the rival boat was the cause of the excitement. Up to this time the boat-race seemed to have been nearly forgotten. It had got abroad among both " hands " and passen- gers that the Captain did not intend to " run ;" and although this backing-out had been loudly censured at first, the feeling of disappointment had partially subsided. The VOL. I. G 82 THE QUADROON. crew had been busy at their work of stowage — the firemen with their huge billets of cord- wood — the gamblers with their cards — and the passengers, in general, with their port- manteaus, or the journal of the day. The other boat not starting at the same time, had been out of sight until now, and the feeling of rivalry almost " out of mind." The appearance of the rival produced a sudden change. The gamblers flung down the half- dealt pack, in hopes of having something more exciting to bet upon ; the readers hastily closed their books, and tossed aside their newspapers ; the rum- magers of trunks banged down the lids; the fair occupants of rocking-chairs sud- denly sprang to their feet ; and all ran out of the cabins, and pressed towards the after- part of the boat. My position on the hurricane deck was the best possible for a good view of the rival boat, and I was soon joined by a number of my fellow-passengers. I wished, how- THE QUADROON. 83 ever, to witness the scene on the cabin-deck, and went below. On reaching the main saloon, I found it quite forsaken. All the passengers, both male and female, had gone out upon the guardway ; and leaning against the guards were anxiously watching the approach of the Magnolia. I found the Captain under the front-cabin awning. He was surrounded by a crowd of gentlemen-passengers, all of whom appeared to be in a high state of excitement. One after the other was proffering speech to him. They were urging him to " raise the steam." The Captain, evidently wishing to escape from these importunities, kept passing from place to place. It was to no purpose. Wherever he went he was met or followed by a knot of individuals, all with tlie same request in their mouths — some even begging him for " God's sake" not to let the Magnolia pass him ! g2 84 THE QUADROON. "Wal, Cap!" cried one, "if the Belle don't run, I guess she'll never be heerd of on these waters agin, she wont." "You're right!" added another. "For my part, the next trip I make I'll try the Magnolia." " She's a fast boat that 'ere Magnoha ! " remarked a third. " She ain't anything else," rejoined the first speaker: " she's got /^er steam on a few, I reckon." I walked out on the guardway in the direction of the ladies' cabin. The inmates of the latter were clustered along the guards, and seemingly as much interested in the boat-race as the men. I could hear several of them expressing their wishes aloud that the boats would run. All idea of risk or fear of consequences had departed; and I believe that if the company had been "polled" at the moment in favom- of the race, there would not have been three dis- sentient voices. I confess that I, myself, THE QUADROON. 85 would have voted for running, — I had caught the infection, and no longer thought of " snags," " sawyers," or bursting boilers. As the Magnolia drew near the excite- ment increased. It was evident that in a few minutes more she would be alongside, and then pass us. The idea was unsup- portable to some of the passengers ; and loud words could be heard, now and then interspersed with an angry oath. The poor Captain had to bear all this — for it was known that the rest of the officers were w^ell disposed for a trial of speed. It was the Captain only who "showed the white feather." ^ The Magnolia was close in our wake ; her head bearing a little to one side. She was evidently preparing to pass us ! Her officers and crew were moving actively about ; both pilots were seen above at the wheel-house; the firemen were all at work upon the deck ; the furnace-doors were glow- ing red-hot ; and the bright blaze stood 86 THE QUADROON. several feet above the tops of her tall fun- nels ! One might have fancied she was on fire! " They are burning bacon hams!" shouted a voice. ." They are by ! " exclaimed another. " See, yonder's a pile of them in front of the furnace !" I turned my eyes in that direction. It was quite true. A pyrarnidal-shaped mass of dark-brown objects lay upon the deck in front of the fires. Their size, shape, and colour told what they were — dried hams of bacon. The firemen were seen taking them from the pile, and thrusting ^em one after another up the red tunnels of the furnace ! The Magnolia was still gaining upon us. Already her head was even with the wheel- house of the Belle. On the latter boat the excitement increased, and the noise along with it. An occasional taunt from the pas- sengers of the rival boat added fuel to the flame ; and the Captain was once more ab- THE QUADROON. 87 jured to run. Men almost threatened him with violence ! The Magnolia continued to advance. She was now head for head with us. Another minute passed — a minute of deep silence — the crews and passengers of both boats watched their progress with hearts too full for utterance. Another minute, and the Magnoha had shot a-head ! A triumphant cheer rang along her decks, mingled with taunting shouts and expressions of insult. " Throw us a line, and we'll tow you ! " cried one. " Whar's yer old ark now ? " shouted another. " Hurraw for the Magnolia ! Three groans for the Belle of the West ! Three groans for the old dug-out ! " vociferated a third, amidst jeers and shouts of laughter. I can hardly describe the mortification felt by those on board the Belle. It was not confined to the officers and crew. The 88 THE QUADROON. passengers, one and all, seemed to partake of the feeling. I shared it myself, more than I could have believed to be possible. One dislikes to be among the conquered, even on any terms of association. Besides, one involuntarily catches the impulse of the moment. The sentiment that surrounds you — perhaps by physical laws which you cannot resist — for the moment becomes your own ; and even when you know the object of ex- ultation to be worthless or absurd, you are controlled by the electric current to join in the enthusiasm. I remember once being thus carried away, and mingled my voice with the rude throats that cheered the passing cortege of royalty. The moment it was past, however, my heart fell, abashed at its own meanness and wickedness. Both his crew and passengers seemed to think our Captain imprudent in his pru- dence; and a general clamour, mingled with cries of " Shame 1" was heard all over the boat. THE QUADROON. 89 The poor Captain ! I had my eyes upon him all this while. I really pitied him. I was perhaps the only passenger on board, beside the fair Creole, who knew his secret ; and I could not help admiring the chivalric fortitude with which he kept it to himself. I saw his cheek glow, and his eye sparkle with vexation ; and I felt satisfied, that had he been called upon to make that promise then, he would not have done so for the privi- lege of carrying all the freight upon the river. Just then, as if to escape the impor- tunities that beset him, I saw him steal back and pass through the ladies' cabin. There he was at once recognised, and a general onset was made upon him by his fair passengers, who were almost as noisy in their petitions as the men. Seve- ral threatened him, laughingly, that they would never travel by his boat again ; while others accused him of a want of gallantry. Surely it was impossible to resist such ban- terings ; and I watched the Captain closely. 90 THE QUADROON. expecting a crisis one way or the other. The crisis was at hand. Drawing himself up in the midst of a knot of these importunates, he thus ad- dressed them : — " Ladies ! Nothing would give me more pleasure than to gratify you, but before leaving New Orleans I gave my promise — in fact, passed my word of honour to a lady — " Here the gallant speech was inter- rupted by a young lady, who, rushing up from another part of the boat, cried out — " Oh, Capitaine ! cher Capitaine ! do not let that wicked boat get a-head of us ! do put on more steam, and pass her — that is a. dear Captain ! " "Why, Mademoiselle !" replied the Cap- tain, in astonishment, " it was to you I gave the promise not to run — it was '' " Pardieu ! " exclaimed Mademoiselle Besanyon, for it was she. "So you did. I had quite forgotten it. Oh, cher Capi- taine, I release yoii from that promise. THE QUADROON. 91 Helas! I hope it is not too late. For Heaven's sake, try to pass her ! Ecoutez ! les polissons ! how they taunt us !" The Captain's face brightened up for a moment, and then suddenly resumed its vexed expression. He replied — " Mademoiselle, although grateful to you, I regret to say that under the circumstances I cannot hope to run successfully against the Magnolia. We are not on equal tenns. Bhe is burning hacon liams, of which she has a large supply. I should have had the same, but after promising you not to run, I, of course, did not take any on board. It would be useless to attempt a race with only common cordwood — unless indeed the Belle be much the faster boat, which we do not, yet know, as we have never tried her speed." Here appeared to be a dilemma, and some of the ladies regarded Mademoiselle Besancon with looks of displeasure. *' Bacon hams !" she exclaimed : " bacon 92 THE QUADROON. hams did you say, cher Capitaine? How many would be enough ! Would two hun- dred be enough ? " " Oh ! less than that/' replied the Cap- tain. " Here ! Antoine 1 Antoine ! " continued she, calling to the old steward. " How many bacon hams have you on board?" "Ten barrels of them, Mademoiselle," answered the steward, bowing respect- fully. " Ten barrels ! that will do, I suppose ? Cher Capitaine, they are at your service ! " " Mademoiselle, I shall pay you for them," said the Captain, brightening up, and be- coming imbued with the general enthusiasm. "No — no — no! Let the expense be mine. I have hindered you. They were for my plantation people, but they are not in want. We shall send down for more. Go, Antoine ! go to the firemen. Knock in the heads of the barrels ! Use them as you please, but do not let us be beaten by THE QUADROON. 93 that wicked Magnolia ! Hark ! how they cheer ! Ha ! we shall pass them yet." So saying, the fiery Creole rushed back to the guardway, followed by a group of admirers. The Captain's " dander " was now fairly up ; and the story of the bacon hams soon spreading over the boat, still further height- ened the enthusiasm of both passengers and crew. Three loud cheers were given for the young lady, which seemed to mys- tify the Magnolians, who had now been for some time in the enjoyment of their triumph, and had forged a considerable distance a-head. All hands went to work with a will — the barrels were rolled up, their heads knocked in, and part of their contents " chucked " up the blazing furnace. The iron walls soon grew red — the steam rose — the boat trembled under the increased action of the engine — the bells of the engineers tinkled their signals — the wheels revolved more 94 THE QUADROON. rapidly, and an increase of velocity was soon perceptible. Hope had stifled clamour — comparative silence was restored. There was heard only an occasional utterance, — the expression of an opinion upon the speed of the rival boats — the fixing the conditions of a bet — and now and then some allusion to the story of the bacon hams. At intervals, all eyes were bent upon the water, eagerly glancing along the line that separated the rival steamers. THE QUADROOX. 95 CHAPTER XL A BOAT-RACE UPON THE MISSISSIPPI. It had now become quite dark. There was no moon in the sky — not a speck of a star. A clear heaven over the lower region of the Mississippi, at night, is rather rare than otherwise. The film of the swamp too often obscures it. There was light enough for the race. The yellow water shone clear. It was easily distinguishable from the land. The track was a wide one ; and the pilots of both boats — old hands — knew every " shute " and sand-bar of the river. The rival steamers were quite visible to one another. No lamps needed to be hung 96 THE QUADROON. out, althougli the gaff over the bow of each boat carried its coloui'ed signal. The cabin ^vindo^YS of both were full of hght, and the blaze of the bacon fires flung a vermilion glare far over the water. Upon each boat the spectators could be seen from the other in their state-room windows, or leaning against the guards, in attitudes that betokened their interest. By the time the Belle had fairly got up steam, the Magnolia was a full half mile in advance of her. This distance, though nothing where there is a large dif- ference of speed, is not so easily overtaken where the swiftness of the boats approxi- mates to anything like an equality. It was a long while, therefore, before the people of the Belle could be certain as to whether she was gaining upon her rival ; for it is somewhat difficult to tell this when one vessel is running in the wake of the other. Questions were put by passengers • THE QUADROON. 97 to the various officials and to one another, and " guesses" were continually being made on this interesting point. At length an assurance was derived from the Captain, that several hundred yards had been already taken up. This produced general joy, though not universal ; for there were some unpatriotic individuals on board the Belle who had risked their dollars on the Magnolia. In another hour, however, it was clear to all that our boat was fast gaining upon the Magnoha, as she was now within less than a quarter of a mile of her. A quarter of a mile on smooth w^ater appears but a short distance, and the people of the two boats could hold converse at will. The oppor- tunity was not neglected by those of the Belle to pay back the boasts of the Magno- hans. Shouts of banter reached their ears, and their former taunts were now returned with interest. VOL. I. H 98 TBE QUADROON. *' Have you any message for St. Louis ? We're going up there, and will be happy to carry it for you," shouted one from the Belle. " Hurra\v for the bully-boat BeUe ! " Tociferated another. " How are you off for bacon hams ? " asked a third. " We can lend you a few, if you're out." "Where shall we say we left you?" in- quired a fourth. "In Shirt-tail Bend?" And loud peals of laughter followed this joking allusion to a point in the river well known to the boatmen. It had now approached the hour of mid- night, and not a soul on either boat had thought of retiring to rest. The interest in the race precluded the idea of sleep, and both men and women stood outside the cabins, or glided out and in at short inter- vals to note the progress. The excitement had led to drinking, and I noticed that several of the passengers were already half THE QUADROON. 99 intoxicated. The officers, too, led on by these, Avere indulging too freely, and even the Captain showed symptoms of a similar condition. No one thou2:ht of censure — prudence had fled from the boat. It is near midnight, and amidst the growling and grinding of the machinery the boats are moving on ! There is deep darkness upon the water, but this is no im- pediment. The red fires glow ; the blaze stands high above the tall funnels ; steam booms from the iron pipes ; the huge paddles lash the water into foam; the timbers creak and tremble under the fierce pressure, and the boats move on ! It is near midnight. A space of two hundred yards alone separates the steamers — the Belle is bounding upon the waves of the Magnolia. In less than ten minutes her head will overlap the stern of her rival ! In less than twenty, and the cheer of vic- 'h 2 100 THE QUADROON. tory rising from her deck will peal from shore to shore ! I was standing by the Captain of om* boat, regarding him not without a feeling of solicitude. I regretted to see him pass so often to the " bar." He was drinking deeply. He had returned to his station by the wheel-house, and was gazing a-head. Some straggling lights were gleaming on the right bank of the river, a mile farther up. The sight of these caused him to start, and utter a wild exclamation : — " By Heavens ! it is Bringiers T' " Ye-e-s," draw^led the pilot at his elbow. " We've reached it in quick time, I reckon." " Great God ! I must lose the race !" " How ? " said the other, not compre- hending him ; " what has that got to do with it?" " I must land there. I must — I must — THE QUADROON. 101 the lady who gave us the hams — I must land her!" " Oh ! that " replied the phlegmatic pilot ; " a darned pity it is," he added ; " but if you must, you must. Darn the luck ! We'd a-beat them into shucks in another quarter, I reckon. Darn the luck 1" " We must give it up," said the Captain. " Turn her head in." Saying this, he hurried below ; and, ob- serving his excited manner, I followed him. A group of ladies stood upon the guard- way where the Captain descended over the wheel-house. The Creole was among them. " Mademoiselle," said the Captain, ad- dressing himself to this lady, " we must lose the race after all." "Why?" asked she in surprise; "are there not enough ? Antoine ! have you delivered them all?" " No, Mademoiselle," replied the Captain, " it is not that, thanks to your generosity. You see those lights ?" 102 THE QUADROON. "Yes— well?" " That is Bringiers!' " Oh! it is, is it?" " Yes ; — and of course you must be landed there." " And that Avould lose you the race ? " " Certainly." " Then, of course, I must not be landed there. What care I for a day ? I am not so old but that I can spare one. Ha ! ha ! ha ! You shall not lose your race, and the repu- tation of your fine boat, on my account. Think not of landing, cher Capitaine ! Take me on to Baton Rouge. I can get back in the morning!" A cheer rose from the auditory ; and the Captain, rushing back to the pilot, counter- manded his late order. The Belle again stands in the wake of the ^lagnolia, and again scarce two hun- dred yards of the river lie between. The THE GUADROOX. 108 rumbling of tlieir machinery — the booming of their steam — the plashing of their pad- dles — the creaking of their planks — the shouts of those on board, mingle in rude concert. Up forges the Belle — up — up — gaining in spite of the throes of her antagonist. Up, nearer still — nearer, till her head laps upon the stern, then the wheel-house, then the fore-deck of the Magnolia ! Now the lights of both cross each other — their fires glow together upon the water — they are head and head ! Another foot is gained — the Captain waves his hat — and the cheer of triumph peals forth ! That cheer was never finished. Its first notes had scarce broke upon the midnight air, when it was interrupted by an explosion like the bursting of some vast magazine — an explosion that shook the air, the earth. 104 THE QUADROON. and the water ! Timbers crashed and flew upward — men shouted as their bodies were projected to the heavens — smoke and vapour filled the air — and one wild cry of agony arose upon the night ! THE QUADROON. 105 CHAPTER XII. THE LIFE-PRESERVER. The concussion, unlike anything I had ever heai'd, was, nevertheless, significant of the nature of the catastrophe. 1 felt an instan- taneous conviction that the boilers had burst, and such in reality was the fact. At the moment, I chanced to be on the balcony in rear of my state-room. I was holding by the guard-rail — else the shock and the sudden lurch of the boat would have flung me headlong. Scarce knowing what I did, I staggered into my state-room, and through the oppo- site door into the main saloon. Here I paused and looked around me. The whole forward part of the boat was 106 THE QUADROON. shrouded in steam and smoke, and already a portion of the hot scaldmg vapour floated through the cabin. Dreading the contact of this, I rushed aft ; but by a fortunate chance the lurch of the boat had brought her stern to windward, and the breeze blew the dangerous element away. The engine was now silent — the w^heels had ceased to move — the 'scape-pipe no longer gave out its booming notes ; but in- stead of these sounds, others of terrible im- port fell upon the ear. The shouts of men, mingled with oaths — wild, awful impreca- tions — the more shrill piercing shrieks of women — the groans of wounded from the deck below — the agonised cry of those blown into the water and drowning — all rang upon the ear w4th terrible emphasis ! How changed the tones from those that, but a moment before, pealed from the self- same lips ! The smoky vapour was soon partially THE QUADROON. 107 blown off, and I could catch a glimpse of the forward part of the boat. There a complete chaos met the eye. The smokhig saloon, the bar ^Yith its contents, the front awning, and part of the starboard wheel- house, were completely carried away — blown up as if a mine had been sprung be- neath them — and the huge sheet-iron funnels had fallen forward upon the deck ! At a glance I W'as convinced that captain, pilots, all who had been upon that part of the boat, must have perished ! Of course such reflections passed with the rapidity of thought itself, and occupied me not a moment of time. I felt that I was still unhurt, and my first natural thought w^as that of preserving my life. I had sufficient presence of mind to know there w^as no dan- ger of a second explosion ; but I perceived that the boat w^as badly injured, and al- ready leaning to one side. How long would she swdm ? I had hardly asked myself the question 108 THE QUADROON. Avhen it was answered by a voice that, in terrified accents, sliouted out : — " Good God ! she is sinking ! she is -sinking ! " This announcement was almost simul- taneous with the cry of " Fire ! " and at the same moment flames were seen bursting forth and shooting up to the height of the fiurricane deck ! AVhether by burning up or going down, it was evident the wreck would afibrd us but short refuge. The thoughts of the survivors were now turned to the Magnolia. I looked in the direction of that boat. I perceived that «he was doing her best to back, and put round toward us ; but she was still several liundred yards off 1 In consequence of the Belle having steered a while towards the Bringiers landing, the boats no longer ran in the same track ; and, although they w^ere liead and head at the moment of the ex- plosion, they were separated from each other hy a wide stretch of the river. A full THE QUADROON. 109 quarter of a mile distant appeared the ^Mag- nolia ; and it was evident that a considerable time must elapse before she could get along- side. Would the wreck of the Belle keep afloat so long ? At a glance I was convinced it would not. I felt it settling down under my feet inch by inch ; and the blaze already threat- ened the after-part of the boat, licking the light woodwork of the gaudy saloon as if it had been flax ! Not a moment was to be lost : we must take voluntarily to the water, be drawn in by the sinking wreck, or driven to it by the fire. One of the three was in- evitable ! You will fancy me to have been in a state of extreme terror at this moment. Such, however, was not the case. I had not the shghtest fear for my own safety t not that I was redeemed from the common lot by any superior courage, but simply that I had confidence in my resources. 110 THE QUADROON. Though sufficiently reckless in my tempera- ment, I have never been a fatalist. I have saved my life more than once by acts of volition — by presence of mind and adroit- ness. The knowledge of this has freed me from the superstitions of fore-ordination and fatalism ; and therefore, when not too in- dolent, I take precautions against danger. I had done so on the occasion of which I am writing. In my portmanteau I carried — I do so habitually — a very simple con- trivance, a life-preserver. I always carry it in such a position as to be ready to the hand. It is but the work of a moment to adjust this, and wdth it around my body I feel no fear of being plunged into the broad- est river, or even a channel of the sea. It was the knowledge of this, and not any superior courage, that supported me. I ran back to my state-room — the port- manteau was open — and in another moment I held the piece of quilted cork in my hands. THE QUADROON. Ill In a few seconds its strap was over my head, and the strings securely knotted around my waist. Thus accoutred, I stood mside the state- room, intending to remain there till the wreck should sink nearer the surface of the water. Settling rapidly as it was, I was convinced I should not have long to wait. I closed the inner door of the room, and turned the bolt. The outer one I held slightly ajar, my hand firmly clutching the handle. I had my object in thus shutting myself up. I should be less exposed to the view of the terror-stricken wretches that ran to and fro like spectres — for any fear I now had was of them — not of the water. I knew that, should the life-preserver be discovered, I should have a crowd around me in a mo- ment — in fact; that escape by such means would be hopeless. Dozens would follow me into the water — would cling to my 112 THE QUADROON. limbs — would drag me, in their despaiiiiig grasp, to the bottom ! I knew this ; and, clutching the Venetian door with firmer grasp, I stood peering through the apertures in stealthy silence. THK QUADROON. 113 CHAPTER XIII. " BLESSE. I HAD not been in this position more than a few seconds, when some figm^es appeared in front of the door, and voices fell upon my ear that I thought I recognised. Another glance revealed the speakers. They were the young Creole and her steward. The conversation passing between them Avas not a dialogue, but a series of exclama- tions — the hurried language of terror. The old man had got together a few cabin chairs; and with trembling hands was en- deavouring to bind them together, with the design of forming a raft. He had no other cord than a handkerchief, and some strips of silk, which his young mistress was tearing VOL. I. I 114 THE QUADROON. from her dress ! It would have been but a feeble raft, had it been completed — not fit to have floated a cat. It was but the effort of the drowning man " catching at straws." I saw at a glance that it would afford to neither of them the respite of a minute's life. The chairs were of heavy rosewood ; and, perchance, would have gone to the bottom of themselves ! The scene produced upon me an impres- sion indescribably strange. I felt myself standing upon a crisis. I felt called upon to choose between self and self-sacrifice. Had the choice left no chance of saving my own life, I fear I should have obeyed the " first law of nature ; " but, as already stated, of my own life I felt secure; the question was, whether it would be possible for me also to save the lady ? I reasoned rapidly, and as follows : — The life-preserver — a very small one — will not sustain us both ! What if I fasten it upon her, and swim alongside? A little THE QUADROON. 115 help from it now and then will be sufficient to keep me afloat. I am a good swimmer. How far is it to the shore ? I looked in that direction. The glare of the blazing boat lit up the water to a wide circumference. I could see the brown bank distinctly. It was full a quarter of a mile distant, with a sharp cross-current running between it and the wreck. " Sm-ely lean swim it?" thought I: " sink or swim, I shall make the attempt to save her ! " I will not deny that other reflections passed through my mind as I was forming this resolve. I will not deny that there was a little French gallantry mixed up with better motives. Instead of being young and lovely, had Mademoiselle Besangon been old and plain, I think — that is — I — I fear — she would have been left to Antoine and his raft of chairs ! As it was, my re- solve was made ; and I had no time to reflect upon motives. i2 116 THE QUADROON. "Mademoiselle Besan^on!" I called out of the door. "Ha! Some one calls me!" said she, turning suddenly. " Mon Dieu ! who is there?" "One who, Mademoiselle " " Feste I " muttered the old steward angrily, as his eyes fell upon my face. He was under the belief that I wished to share his raft. " Peste r he repeated ; " 'twill not carry two, monsieur." " Nor one," I replied. " Mademoiselle," I continued, addressing myself to the lady ; " those chairs will not serve, — they will rather be the means of drowning you, — here — take this ! it will save your life." As I spoke I had pulled off the preserver, and held it towards her. "What is this?" she inquired hastily; and then, comprehending all, she continued, "No — no — no. Monsieur! Yourself — yourself ! " THE QUADROON. 117 " I believe I can swim ashore without it. Take it, Mademoiselle ! Quick ! quick ! there is no time to be lost. In three minutes the boat will go down. The other is not near yet : besides, she may fear to approach the fire ! See the flames 1 they come this way ! Quick ! Permit me to fasten it for you?" " My God ! — my God ! — generous stranger 1" " No words ; now — now it is on ! Now to the water ! Have no fear ! plunge in, and strike out from the wreck ! fear not ! I shall follow and guide you! Away!" The girl, partly influenced by terror, and partly yielding to my remonstrances, sprang off into the water ; and the next moment I saw her body afloat, distinguishable by the whitish drapery of her dress, that still kept above the surface. At that instant I felt some one grasping me by the hand. I turned round. It was Antoine. 118 THE QUADROON. " Forgive me, noble youth ! forgive me ! " he cried, while the tears ran down his cheeks. I would have replied, but at the moment I perceived a man rush forward to the guards, over which the girl had just passed. I could see that his eye was fixed upon her, and that he had marked the life-preserver ! His intention was evident. He had mounted the guard-rail, and was just springing off as I reached the spot. I caught him by the collar, and drew him back. As I did so his face came under the blaze, and I recognised my letting bully. "Not so fast. Sir!" said I, still holding him. He uttered but one word in reply — and that was a fearful oath — but at the moment I saw in his uplifted hand the shining blade of a bowie-knife ! So un- expectedly did this weapon appear, that I had no chance of evading the blow ; and the next moment I felt the cold steel passing through my arm. It was not a fatal stab. THE QIJADIIOOX. 119 however ; and before the brute could repeat it I had, in the phraseolog}^ of the ring, "planted" a blow upon his chin, that sent him sprawling over the chairs, while at the same time the knife flew out of his grasp. This I caught up, and hesitated for a mo- ment whether to use it upon the ruffian ; but my better feelings overcame my passion, and I flung the weapon into the river. Almost instantaneously I plunged after. I had no time to tarry. The blaze had reached the wheel-house, close to which we were, and the heat was no lono-er to be borne. My last glance at the spot showed me Antoine and my antagonist struggling among the chairs ! The white drapery served me for a beacon, and I swam after it. The current had already carried it some distance from the boat, and directly down stream. I had hurriedly divested myself of coat and boots, and as mv other varments were of light material they did not impede me. 120 THE QUADROON. After a few strokes I swam perfectly free ; and, keeping the white dress before my eyes, I continued on down the river. Now and then I raised my head above the surface and looked back. I still had fears that the ruffian might follow; and I had nerved myself for a struggle in the water 1 In a few minutes I was alongside my protec/ee ; and, after half-a-dozen hurried words of encouragement, I laid hold of her with one hand, and with the other endea- voured to direct our course towards the shore. In this way the current carried us in a diagonal line, but we still floated down stream at a rapid rate. A long and weary swim it seemed to me. Had it been much longer I never should have reached the end of it. At length we appeared to be near the bank; but as we approached it my strokes became feebler, and my left hand grasped my com- panion with a sort of convulsive effort. THE QUADROON. 12'! I remember reaching land, however; I remember crawHng up the bank with great difficulty, my companion assisting me ! I remember seeing a large house directly in front of where we had come ashore ; I remember hearing the words, — "Cest drole! c est ma maison — ma maison veritable r' I remember staggering across a road, le(J by a soft hand, and entering a gate, and a garden where there were benches, and statues, and sweet -smelling flowers — I re- member seeing servants come from the house with lights, and that my arms were: red, and my sleeves dripping Avith blood \ I remember from a female voice the cry, — '' Blesse!'' followed by a wild shriek; and of that scene I remember no more l 122 THE QUADROON, CHAPTER XIV. WHERE AM I? When I awoke to consciousness, it was day. A bright sun was pouring his yellow light across the floor of my chamber; and from the diagonal slanting of the beam, I could perceive that it was either very early in the morning, or near sunset. But birds were singing without. It must be morning, reasoned I. I perceived that I was upon a low couch of elegant construction — without curtains — but in their stead a mosquito- netting spread its gauzy meshes above and around me. The snow-white colour and fineness of the linen, the silken gloss of the counterpane, and the soft yielding mattrass THE aUADROON. 123 beneath, imparted to me the knowledge that I lay upon a luxurious bed. But for its extreme elegance and fineness, I might not have noticed this; for I awoke to a sense of severe bodily pain. The incidents of the preceding night soon came into my memory, and passed rapidly one by one as they had occurred. Up to our reaching the bank of the river, and climbing out of the water, they were all clear enough. Beyond that time I could recall nothing distinctly. A house, a large gateway, a garden, trees, flowers, statues, lights, black servants, were all jumbled to- gether on my memory. There was an impression on my mind of having beheld amid this confusion a face of extraordinary beauty — the face of a lovely girl ! Something angelic it seemed ; but whether it had been a real face that I had seen, or only the vision of a dream, I could not now tell. And yet its lineaments were still before me, so plainly visible to the eye 124 THE QUADROON. of ray mind, so clearly outlined, that, had I been an artist, I could have portrayed them ! The face alone I could remember — nothing else. I remembered it as the opium-eater his dream, or as one remembers a beautiful face seen during an hour of intoxication, when all else is forgotten ! Strange to say^ I did not associate this face with my com- panion of the night ; and ray reraembrance painted it not at all like that of Eugenie Besancon ! Was there any one besides — any one on board the boat that ray dreara reserabled ? No, not one — I could not think of one. There was none in whom I had taken even a momentary interest — with the exception of the Creole — but the hneaments ray fancy, or meraory, now conjured up were entirely unlike to hers : in fact, of quite an opposite character ! Before my mind's eye hung masses of glossy black hair, waving along the brows and falling over the shoulders in curling THE QUADROON. 125 clusters. Within this ebon framework were features to mock the sculptor's chisel. The mouth, with its delicate rose-coloured ellipse; the nose, with smooth straight out- line, and small recurvant nostril ; the arch- ing brows of jet ; the long fringes upon the eyelids ; all were vividly before me, and all unlike the features of Eugenie Besangon. The colour of the skin, too — even that was different. It was not that Circassian white that characterised the complexion of the Creole, but a colour equally clear, though tinged with a blending of brown and olive, which gave to the red upon the cheeks a tint of crimson. The eye I fancied, or remembered well — better than aught else. It was large, rounded, and of dark brown colour; but its pecuharity con- sisted in a certain expression, strange but lovely. Its brilliance was extreme, but it neither flashed nor sparkled. It was more like a gorgeous gem viewed by the spec- 126 THE QUADROON. tator while at rest. Its light did not blaze — it seemed rather to hum. Despite some pain which I felt, I lay for many minutes pondering over this lovely portrait, and wondering whether it was a memory or a dream. A singular reflection crossed my mind. I could not help think- ing, that if such a face were real, I could forget Mademoiselle Besan9on, despite the romantic incident that had attended our introduction ! The pain of my arm at length dissipated the beautiful vision, and recalled me to my present situation. On throwing back the counterpane, I observed with surprise that the wound had been dressed, and evidently by a surgeon ! Satisfied on this head, I cast my eye abroad to make a reconnoissance of my quarters. The room I occupied was small, but, not- withstanding the obstruction of the mos- quito bar, I could see that it was furnished THE QUADROON. 127 with taste and elegance. The furniture was hght — mostly cane work — and the floor was covered with a matting of sea- grass finely woven, and stained into various colours. The windows were garnished with curtains of silk damask and mushn, cor- responding to the colour of the wood- work. A table richly inlaid was -near the centre of the floor ; another, with porte/euille, pens, and ornamental inkstand, stood by the wall, and over this last was a collection of books ranged upon shelves of red cedar- wood. A handsome clock adorned the mantelpiece ; and in the open fireplace was a pair of small "and-irons," with silver knobs, cast after a fanciful device, and richly chased. Of com'se, there was no fire at that season of the year. Even the heat caused by the mosquito bar would have been annoying, but that the large glass-door on one side, and the window on the other, both standing open, gave pas- 128 THE QUADROON. «age to the breeze that penetrated through the nettings of my couch. Along with this breeze came the most man, that he dare thus step between her and the rights of hospitality? It was a painful thought to me, to see this fair creature in the power of such a villain. Rut another thought was still more painful — the thought of parting with Au- rore. Though I did not fancy that parting was to be for ever ! No. Had I believed that, I should not have yielded so easily. I should have put M. Dominique to the necessity of a positive expulsion. Of course, I had no apprehension that by removing to the village I should be debarred from visit- 218 THE QUADROON. ing the plantation as often as I felt inclined. Had that been the condition, my reflections would have been painful indeed. After all, the change would signify httle. I should return as a visitor, and in that character be more independent than as a guest — more free, perhaps, to approafch the object of my love ! I could come as often as I pleased. The same opportunities of seeing her would still be open to me. I wanted but one — one moment alone with Aurore, — and then bliss or blighted hopes ! But there were other considerations that troubled me at this moment. How was I to live at the hotel ? Would the proprietor believe in promises, and wait until my letters — already sent off — could be answered ? Already I had been provided with suitable apparel — mysteriously in- deed. I awoke one morning and found it by my bedside. I made no inquiry as to how it came there. That would be an after- consideration ; but with regard to money. THE QUADROON. 219 how was that to be obtained ? Must I be- come Iter debtor? Or ara I to be under obhgations to Gayarre ? Cruel dilemma ! At this juncture I thought of Reigart. His calm, kind face, came up before me. " An alternative ! " soliloquised I ; " he will help me !" The thought seemed to have summoned him ; for at that moment the good doctor entered the room, and became the confi- dant of my wishes. I had not misjudged him. His purse lay open upon the table ; and I became his debtor for as much of its contents as I stood in need of. "Very strange!" said he, "this desire of hurrying you oflp, on the part of M. Gayarre. There is something more in it than solicitude for the character of the lady. Something more — what can it all mean t The doctor said this partly in soliloquy, 220 THE aUADROON. and as if searcbiug his own thoughts for an answer. "I am almost a stranger to Mademoiselle Besanfon," he continued, " else I should deem it my duty to know more of this matter. But M. Gayarre is her guardian ; and if he desire you to leave, it will per- haps be wiser to do so. She may not be her own mistress entirely. Poor thing ! I fear there is debt at the bottom of the mystery; and if so, she will be more a slave than any of her own people. Poor young" lady ! " Reigart was right. My remaining longer might add to her embarrassments. I felt satisfied of this. " I am desirous to go at once, doctor." " My barouche is at the gate, then. You can have a seat in it. I can set you down at the hotel." " Thanks, thanks ! the very thing I should have asked of you, and I accept THE QUADROON. 221 your oJBPer. I have but few preparations to make, and Avill be ready for you in a moment." " Shall I step over to the house, and pre- pare Mademoiselle for your departure ?" >^ " Be so kind. I believe Gayarre is now there?" " No. I met him near the gate of his own plantation, returning home. I think she is alone. I shall see her and return for you." The doctor left me, and walked over to the house. He was absent but a few minutes, when he returned to make his report. He was still further perplexed at what he had learnt. Mademoiselle had heard from Gayarre, just an hour before, that Iliad expressed my intention of removing to the hotel ! She had been surprised at this, as I had said no- thing about it in our late interview. She would not hear of it at first, but Gayarre 222 THE QUADROON. had used arguments to convince her of the poHcy of such a step ; and the doctor, on my part, had also urged it. She had at length, though reluctantly, consented. Such was the report of the doctor, who further informed me that she was waiting to re- ceive me. Guided by Scipio, I made my way to the drawing-room. I found her seated ; but upon my entrance she rose, and came for- ward to meet me with both hands ex- tended. I saw that she was in tears! "Is it true you intend leaving us, Mon- sieur ? " Yes, Mademoiselle ; I am now quite strong again. I have come to thank you for your kind hospitality, and say adieu." " Hospitality ! — ah. Monsieur, you have reason to think it cold hospitality since I permit you to leave us so soon. I would you had remained ; but " Here she became embarrassed : " but — you are not THE QUADUOON. 223 to be a stranger — although you go to the hotel. Bringiers is near — promise, that you will visit us often — in fact, every day?" I need not say that the promise was freely and joyfully given. " Now," said she, " since you have given that promise, with less regret I can say adieu ! " She extended her hand for a parting salute. I took her fingers in mine, and respectfully kissed them. I saw the tears freshly filling in her eyes, as she turned away to conceal them. I was convinced she was acting under constraint, and against her inclination, else I should not have been allowed to depart. Hers was not the spirit to fear gossip or scandal. Some other pressure was upon her. # I was passing out through the hall — my eyes eagerly turning in every direction. Where was she ? Was I not to have even a parting word? 224 THE QUADROON. At that moment a side-door was gei^tly opened. My heart beat wildly as it turned upon its hinge. Aurore! I dare not trust myself to speak aloud. It would have been overheard in the draw- ing-room. A look — a whisper — a silent pressure of the hand, and I hm-ried away ; but the return of that pressure — slight and almost imperceptible as it was — fired my veins with delight ; and I walked on towards the gate with the proud step of a conqueror. THE QTJADROON. 225 CHAPTER XXII. AURORE LOVES ME. " AuRORE loves me !'' The thought thus expressed was of younger date than the day of my removmg to Brin- giers from the plantation. A month had elapsed since that day. The details of mv life durino- that month would possess but little interest for you, reader; though to me every hour was fraught with hopes or fears that still hold a vivid place in my memory. When the heart is charged with love, every trifle con- nected with that love assumes the maorni- tude of an important matter ; and thoughts or incidents that otherwise would soon be forgotten, hold a firm place in the memory. I could \wite a volume about my aflairs of VOL. I. Q 226 THE QUADROON. that month, every Hue of which would be deeply interesting to me, but not to you. Therefore I write it not — I shall not even present you with the journal that holds its history. I continued to live in the hotel at Brin- giers. I grew^ rapidly stronger. I spent most of my time in rambling through the fields and along the Levee — boating upon the river — fishing in the bayous — hunting through the cane-breaks and cypress-swamps, and occasionally killing time at a game of bilhards — for every Louisiana village has its billiard salon. The society of Reigart, whom I now called friend, I enjoyed — when his profes- sional engagements permitted. His books, too, were my friends ; and from these I drew my first lessons in botany. I studied the sylva of the surrounding woods, till at a glance I could distinguish every tree and its kind — the giant cypress, emblem of sorrow, uith tall shaft shooting out of the THE QUADROON. 227 apex of its pyramidal base, and crowned with its full head of sad dark foUage, — sadder from its drapery of tillandsia ; the " tupelo" (^Npsa aquaticd), that nymph that loves the water, with long delicate leaves and olive -like fruit — the "persimmon," or " American lotus" {fiiosjpyros Virgmiand)^ with its beautiful green foliage and red date-plums — the gorgeous magnolia grandi- flora, and its congener, the tall tulip-tree {Liriodendon tulijAfera) — the water-locust {Gleditschia monosperma) ; and, of the same genus, the three-thorned honey-locust (/n«- cantJios), whose light pinnated leaves scarce veil the sun — the sycamore {platcmus), with its smooth trunk and wide-reaching hmbs of silvery hue — the sweet gum {Liquidamhar styraciflua), exuding its golden drops — the aromatic but sanitary " sassafras " {Laurus sassafras) — the " red bay" {Laiirus Carolini- ensis), of cinnamon-like aroma — the oaks of many species, at the head of which might be q2 228 THE QUADROON. placed that majestic evergreen of the south- ern forests, the "live-oak" [Quercus virens) — the " red ash," with its hanging bunches of samarcB — the shady nettle-tree {Celtis crassifolia), with its large cordate leaves and black drupes — and last, though not least interesting, the water-loving cotton- wood {Pojmlns angulatd). Such is the sylva that covers the alluvion of Louisiana. It is a region beyond the limits of the true palm-tree ; but this has its representative in the palmetto — " latanier " of the French, — the Sahal palm of the botanist, of more than one species, forming in many places the underwood, and giving a tropical cha- racter to the forest. I studied the parasites — the huge llianas, with branches like tree-trunks, black and gnarled ; the cane-vines, with pretty star- like flowers ; the muscadine grape-vines, with their dark purple clusters ; the higno- nias, with trumpet - shaped corollas ; the THE QUADROON. 229 smilacce, among which are conspicuous the Smilax rotundifolia, the thick bamboo-brier, and the balsamic sarsaparilla. Not less interesting were the vegetable forms of cultivation — the " staples " from which are drawn the wealth of the land. These were the sugar-cane, the rice-reed, the maize and tobacco-plants, the cotton shrub, and the indigo. All were new to me, and I studied their propagation and cultm-e with interest. Though a month apparently passed in idleness, it was, perhaps, one of the most profitably employed of my life. In that short month I acquired more real know- ledge than I had done during years of classic study But I had learnt one fact that I prized above all ; and that was, that / was beloved hy Aurora ! I learnt it not from her lips — no words had given me the assurance — and yet I was certain that it 2vas so; certain as that I 230 THE QUADROON. lived. Not all the knowledge in the world could have given me the pleasure of that one thought ! -* * # * N * " Aurore loves me /" This was my exclamation, as one morn- ing I emerged from the village upon the road leading to the plantation. Three times a-week — sometimes even more frequently — I had made this journey. Sometimes I encountered strangers at the house — friends of Mademoiselle. Sometimes I found her alone, or in company with Aurore. The latter I could never find alone ! Oh 1 how I longed for that opportunity ! My visits, of course, were ostensibly to Mademoiselle. I dared not seek an inter- view with the slave. Eugenie still preserved the air of melan- choly, that now appeared to have settled upon her. Sometimes she was even sad, — at no time cheerful. As I was not made the confidant of her sorrows, I could only THE QUADROON. 231 guess at the cause. Gayarre, of course, I believed to be \k\Q fiend. Of him I had -learnt Httle. He shunned me on the road, or in the fields ; and upon Ms grounds I never trespassed. I found that he was held in but little respect, except among those who worshipped his wealth. How he was prospering in his suit with Eugenie I knew not. The world talked of such a thing as among the " probabi- lities" — though one of the strange ones, it was deemed. I had sympathy for the young Creole, but I might have felt it more pro- foundly under other circumstances. As it was, my whole soul was under the influence of a stronger passion — my love for Aurore. " Yes — Aurore loves me !" I repeated to myself as I passed out from the village, and faced down the Levee road. I was mounted. Reigart, in his generous hospitality, had even made me master of a horse — a fioe animal that rose buoyantly 232 THE QUADROOX. under me, as though he was also imbued by some noble passion. My well-trained steed followed the path without need of guidance, and dropping the bridle upon his neck, I left him to go at will, and piursued the train of my reflec- tions. I loved this young girl — passionately and devotedly I loved her. She loved me. She had not declared it in words, but her looks ; and now and then a slight incident — scarce more than a fleeting glance or ges- ture — had convinced me that it was so. Love taught me its own language. I needed no interpreter — no tongue to tell me I was beloved. These reflections were pleasant, far more than pleasant ; but others followed them of a very difierent nature. "With whom was I in love ? A slave ! True, a beautiful slave — but still a slave ! How the world would laugh ! how Louisiana THE aUADROON. 238 would laugh — nay, scorn and persecute ! The very proposal to make her my wife would subject me to derision and abuse. " What ! marry a slave ! 'Tis contrary to the laws of the land ! '' Dared I to marry her — even were she free ? — she, a qua- droon! — I should be hunted from the land, or shut up in one of its prisons ! All this I knew, but not one straw cared I for it. The world's obloquy in one scale, my love for Aurore in the other — the former weighed but a feather. True, I had deep regret that Aurore was a slave, but it sprang not from that consi- deration. Far different was the reason of my regret. How was I to obtain her free- dom ? That was the question that troubled me. Up to this time I had made light of the matter. Before I knew that I was beloved, it seemed a sequence very remote. But it Avas now brought nearer, and all the faculties of my mind became concentrated 234 THE QUADROON. on that one tliought — ''How was I to obtain her freedom?" Had she been an ordinary slave, the answer would have been easy enough ; for though not rich, my for- tune was still equal to the price of a human heing ! In my eyes Aurore was priceless. Would she also appear so in the eyes of her young mistress? Was my bride for sale on any terms ? But even if money should be deemed an equivalent, would Mademoiselle sell her to me? An odd proposal, that of buying her slave for my wife ! What would Eugenie Besan^on think of it ? The very idea of this proposal awed me ; but the time to make it had not yet arrived. " I must first have an interview with Aurore, demand a confession of her love, and then, if she consent to become mine, — my wife, — the rest may be arranged. I see not clearly the way, but a love like mine will triumph over everything. My passion nerves me with power, with courage, with THE QI3ADROON. 235 energy. Obstacles must yield ; opposing wills be coaxed or crushed; everything naust give way that stands between myself and my love ! " Aurore ! I come ! I come ! " 236 THE QUADROON. CHAPTER XXIII. A SURPRISE. My reflections were interrupted by the neighing of my horse. I glanced forward to ascertain the cause. I was opposite the plantation Besan^on. A carriage was just wheeling out from the gate. The horses were headed down the Levee road, and going off at a trot, were soon lost behind the cloud of dust raised by the hoofs and wheels. I recognised the carriage. It was the barouche of Mademoiselle Besancon. I could not tell who were its occupants, though, from the slight glimpse I had got of them, I saw there were ladies in it. THE QUADROON. 237 " Mademoiselle herself, accompanied by Aurore, no doubt." I believed that they had not observed me, as the high fence concealed all but my head, and the carriage had turned abruptly on passing out of the gate. I felt disappointed. I had had my ride for nothing, and might now ride back again to Bringiers. I had drawn bridle with this intent, when it occurred to me I could still overtake the carriage and change words with its occu- pants. With her, even the interchange of a glance was worth such a gallop. I laid the spur to the ribs of my horse and sprang him forward. As I came opposite the house I saw Scipio by the gate. He was just closing it after the carriage. "Oh!" thought I, "I may as well be sm^e as to whom I am galloping after." With this idea I inclined my horse's 288 THE QUADROON. head a little, and drew up in front of Scipio. " Gollies ! how young mass'r ride ! Ef he don't do daat business jes up to de hub! Daat 'im do. Wugh!" Without taking notice of his compH- mentary speech, I inquked hastily if Mademoiselle was at home. " No, mass'r, she jes dis moment gone out, — she drive to Mass'r Marigny." "Alone?" "Ye, mass'r." " Of course Aurore is with her?" "No, mass'r; she gone out by harseff. 'Rore, she tay at home." If the negro had been observant he might have noticed the effect of this announcement upon me, for I am sure it must have been sufficiently apparent. I felt it in the instant upheaving of my heart, and the flushing that suddenly fevered my cheeks. " Aurore at home, and alone ! " THE QUADROON. 239 It was the first time during all the course of my wooing that such a " chance " had oflPercd ; and I almost gave expression to my agreeable surprise. Fortunately I did not ; for even the faith- ful Scipio was not to be trusted with such a secret. With an effort I collected myself, and tamed down my horse, now chafing to continue his gallop. In doing so his head was turned in the direction of the village. Scipio thought I was going to ride back. "Sure mass'r not go 'till he rest a bit? Missa 'Genie not home, but dar am 'Rore. 'Rore get mass'r glass ob claret ; Ole Zip make um sangaree. Day berry, berry hot. Wugh!" "You are about right, Scipio," I replied, pretending to yield to his persuasion. "Take my horse round to the stable. I shall rest a few minutes." I dismounted, and, passing the bridle to Scipio, stepped inside the gate. 240 THE QUADROON. It was about an hundred paces to the house, by the direct walk that led from the gate to the front door. But there were two other paths, that Avound around the sides of the shrubbery, through copses of low trees, — laurels, myrtles, and oranges. A person approaching by either of these could not' be seen from the house until close to the very w^indows. From each of these paths the low verandah could be reached without going by the front. There were steps leading into it, — into the interior of the house as well — for the windows that fronted upon the verandah were, after the Creole fashion, glass folding-doors, that opened to the bottom — so that the floors of the rooms and verandah-platform were upon the same level . On passing through the gate, I turned into one of these side-paths, — for certain reasons giving it the preference, — and walked silently on towards the house. I had taken the longer way, and advanced THE QrADROOX. 241 slowly for the purpose of composing ray- self. I could hear the beating of my own heart, and feel its quick nervous throbs, quicker than my steps, as I approached the long-desired interviews I believe I should have been more collected in going up to the muzzle of an antagonist's pistol ! The long yearning for such an oppor- tunity — the well-known difficulty of ob- taining it — the anticipation of that sweetest pleasure on earth — the pleasure of being alone with her I loved — all blended in my thoughts. No wonder they were Avild and somewhat bewildered. I should now meet Aurore face to face, alone, with but Love's god as a witness. I should speak unrestrainedly and free. I should hear her voice, listen to the soft confession that she loved me. I should fold her in my arms— against my bosom ! I should drink love from her swimming eyes — taste it on her crimson cheek, her coral lips ! Oh, I should speak love, and VOL. I. K 242 THE QUADROON. hear it spoken ! I should listen to its de- lirious ravings ! A heaven of happiness was before me. No wonder my thoughts were wild — no wonder I vainly strove to calm them. I reached the house, and mounted the two or three steps that led up into the verandah. The latter was carpeted with a mat of sea- grass, and my chaussure was light, so that my tread was as silent as that of a girl. It could scarce have been heard within the chamber whose windows I was passing. I proceeded on toward the drawing-room, which opened to the front by two of the large door-windows already mentioned. I turned the angle, and the next moment would have passed the first of these win- dows, had a sound not reached me that caused me to arrest my steps. The sound was a voice that came from the drawing- room, whose windows stood open. I lis- tened — it was the voice of Aurore ! THE QUADROON. 243 " In conversation with some one ! with whom? Perhaps Httle Chloe ? her mother? some one of the domestics ? " I Hstened. " By Heaven ! it is the voice of a man ! Who can he be ? Scipio ? No — Scipio cannot yet have left the stable. It cannot be he. Some other of the plantation people ? Jules, the wood-chopper ? the errand-boy, Baptiste ? Ha ! it is not a negro's voice. No, it is the voice of a white man! the overseer?" As this idea came into my head, a pang at the same time shot through my heart — a pang, not of jealousy, bu^ something like it. I was aftigry at him rather than jealous with her. As yet I had heard nothing to make me jealous. His being present with her, and in conversation, was no cause. " So, my bold nigger-driver," thought I, "you have got over your predilection for the little Chloe. Not to be wondered at ! Who would waste time gazing at stars when r2 244 THE QUADROON. there is such a moon in the sky? Brute that you are, you are not blind. I see you, too, have an eye to opportunities, and know- when to enter the drawing-room." Hush 1 Again I hstened. When I had first halted, it was through motives of delicacy. I did not wish to appear too suddenly before the open window, which would have given me a full view of the interior of the apartment. I had paused, intending to herald my ap- proach by some noise, — a feigned cough or a stroke of my foot against the floor. My motives had undergone a change. I now^ listened with a design. I could not help it. Aurore was speaking. I bent my ear close to the window. The voice was at too great a distance, or uttered too low, for me to hear what was said. I could hear the silvery tones, but could not distinguish the words. She must be at the farther end of the room, thought I. THE QUADROON. 245 Perhaps upon the sofa ! This conjecture led me to painful imaginings, till the throb- bings of my heart drowned the murmur that was causing them. At length Aurore's speech was ended. I waited for the reply. Perhaps I might gather from that what she had said. The tones of the male voice would be loud enough to enable me Hush ! hark ! I listened — I caught the sound of voice, but not the words. The sound was enough. It caused me to start as if stung by an adder. It was the voice of M. JDominiqiie Gayarre ! 246 THE QUADROON. CHAPTER XXIV. A RIVAL. I CANNOT describe the effect produced upon me by this discovery. It was like a shock of paralysis. It nailed me to the spot, and for some moments I felt as rigid as a statue, and almost as senseless. Even had the words uttered by Gayarre been loud enough to reach me, I should scarce have heard them. My surprise for the moment had rendered me deaf. The antagonism I had conceived towards the speaker, so long as I believed it to be the brute Larkin, was of a gentle character compared with that which agitated me now. Larkin might be young and handsome — by Scipio's account, the latter he certainly was THE QUADROON. 247 not — but even so, I had little fear of his rivalry. I felt confident that I held the heart of Aurore, and I knew that the overseer had no power over her person. He was overseer of the field hands, and other slaves of the plantation, — their master, with full license of tongue and lash, — but, with all that, I knew that he had no au- thority over Aurore. For reasons I could not fathom, the treatment of the quadroon was, and had always been, different from the other slaves of the plantation. It was not the whiteness of her skin — her beauty neither — that had gained her this distinction. These, it is true, often modify the hard lot of the female slave, sometimes detailing upon her a still more cruel fate ; but, in the case of Aurore, there was some very different reason for the kindness shown her, though / could only ^uess at it. She had been tenderly reared alongside her young mis- tress — had received almost as good an edu- cation — and, in fact, w^as treated rather as 248 THE QUADROON. a sister than a slave. Except from Made- moiselle, she received no commands. The '' nisrorer-driver " had nothino: to do with her. I had therefore no dread of any unlawful influence on his part. Far different were my suspicions when I found the voice belonged to Gayarre. He had power not only over the slave, but the mistress as well. Though suitor, — as I still believed him, — of Mademoiselle, he could not be bhnd to the superior charms of Aurore. Hideous wretch as I thought him, he mio:ht for all be sensible to love. The plainest may have a passion for the fairest. The Beast loved Beauty. The hour he had chosen for his visit, too ! that was suspicious of itself. Just as Mademoiselle had driven out ! Had he been there before she went out and been left by her in the house ? Not likely. Scipio knew nothing of his being there, else he would have told me. The black was aware of my antipathy to Gayarre, and that I did THE QUADROON. 249 not desire to meet him. He would certainly have told me. " No doubt," thought I, " the visit is a stolen one, — the lawyer has come the back way from his own plantation, has watched till the carriage drove off, and then skulked in for the very purpose of finding the qua- droon alone ! " All this flashed upon my mind with the force of conviction. I no longer d(;ubted that his presence there was the result of design, and not a mere accident. He was after Aurore. My thoughts took this homely shape. When the first shock of my surprise had passed away, my senses returned, fuller and more vigorous than ever. My nerves seemed freshly strung, and my ears new set. I placed them as close to the open window as prudence would allow, and lis- tened. It was not honourable, I own, but in dealing with this wretch I seemed to lose all sense of honour. By the peculiar 250 THE QUADROON. circumstances of that moment I was tempted from the strict path, but it was the " eaves- dropping " of a jealous lover, and I cry you mercy for the act. I listened. With an effort I stifled the feverish throbbings of my heart, and listened. And I heard every word that from that moment was said. The voices had become louder, or rather the speakers had ap- proached nearer. They were but a few feet from the window ! Gayarre was speaking. "And does this young fellow dare to make love to yoiu* mistress?" " Monsieur Dominique, how should I know? I am sure I never saw aught of the kind. He is very modest, and so Mademoiselle thinks him. I never knew him to speak one word of love, — not he." I fancied I heard a sigh. " If he dare," rejoined Gayarre in a tone of bravado; "if he dare hint at such a thing to Mademoiselle — aye, or even to you, Aurore — I shall make the place too hot for THE QUADROON. 251 him. He shall visit here no more, the naked adventurer ! On that I am resolved." " Oh, M. Gayarre ! I'm sure that would vex Mademoiselle very much. Remember ! he saved her life. She is full of gratitude to him. She continually talks of it, and it would grieve her if Monsieur Edouard was to come no- more. I am sure it would grieve her." There was an earnestness, a half- en- treaty, in the tone of the speaker that sounded pleasant to my ears. It suggested the idea that she, too, might he (jrieved if Monsieur Edouard were to come no more. A like thought seemed to occur to Gayarre, upon whom, however, it made a very dif- ferent sort of impression. There was irony mixed with anger in his reply, which was half interrogative. " Perhaps it would grieve some one else ? Perhaps you ? Ah, indeed ! Is it so ? You love him? Sacr-r-r-r !'' There was a hissing emphasis upon the 252 TI5E QUADROON. concluding word, that expressed anger and pain, — the pain of bitter jealousy. " Oh, Monsieur ! " replied the quadroon, " how can you speak thus ? / love ! I, — a poor slave ! Alas ! alas !" Neither the tone nor substance of this speech exactly pleased me. I felt a hope, however, that it was but one of the little stratagems of love : a species of deceit I could easily pardon. It seemed to produce a pleasant effect on Gayarre, for all at once his voice changed to a lighter and gayer tone. " You a slave, beautiful Aurore ! No, in my eyes you are a queen, Aurore. Slave ! It is your fault if you remain so. You know who has the power to make you free ; aye, and the will too, — the will, — Aurore ! " " Please not to talk thus, M. Dominique ! I have said before I cannot listen to such speech. I repeat I cannot, and loill not ! " The firm tone was grateful to my ears'. THE GL'ADROOX. 253 " Nay, lovely Aurore ! " replied Gayarre, entreatiiigly, *' don't be angry with me ! I cannot help it. I cannot help thinking of your welfare. You shall be free ; — no longer the slave of a capricious mis- tress " " M. Gayarre !" exclaimed the quadroon, interrupting him, " speak not so of Made- moiselle ! You Avrong her. Monsieur. She is not capricious. What if she heard " ''Fester' cried Gayarre, interrupting in his turn, and again assuming his tone of bravado. " What care I if she did ? Think you I trouble my head about her ? The world thinks so ! ha ! ha ! ha ! Let them! — the fools! ha! ha! One day they may find it different ! ha ! ha ! The}'^ think my visits here are on her account ! ha ! ha ! ha ! No, Aurore, — lovely Aurore ! it is not Mademoiselle I come to see, but you, — you Aurore, — whom I love, — aye, love with all " "M. Dominique ! I repeat " 254 THE aUADROON. " Dearest Aurore ! say yoii will but love me ; say but the word ! Oh, speak it ! you shall be no longer a slave, — you shall be free as your mistress is ; — you shall have everything, — every pleasure, — dresses, jewels, at will ; my house shall be under your control, — you shall command in it, as if yOu loere wy loife " " Enough, Monsieur ! enough ! Your insult 1 hear no more !" The voice was firm and indignant. Hurrah ! " Nay, dearest, loveliest Aurore ! do not go yet, — hear me " "I hear no more. Sir, — Mademoiselle shall know " " A word, a word ! one kiss, Aurore ! on my knees, I beg " I heard the knocking of a pair of knees on the floor, followed by a struggling sound, and loud angry exclamations on the part of Aurore. This I considered to be my cue, and THE aUADROON. 255 three steps brought me within the room, and within as many feet of the kneeling gallant. The wretch was actually on his "marrow-bones/' holding the girl by the wrist, and endeavouring to draw her to- wards him. She, on the contrary, was exerting all her woman's strength to get away ; which, not being so inconsiderable, resulted in the ludicrous spectacle of the kneeling suitor being dragged somewhat rapidly across the carpet ! His back was toward me as I entered, and the first intimation he had of my presence was a boisterous laugh, which for the life of me I could not restrain. It lasted until long after he had released his captive, and gathered his limbs into an upright position ; and, indeed, so loud did it sound in my own ears, that I did not hear the threats of vengeance he was mut- tering in return. "What business have you here, Sir?" was his first intelligible question. 256 THE QUADROON. " I need not ask the same of you, Mon- sieur Dominique Gayarre. Your business I can tell well enough ; ha ! ha ! ha ! " " I ask you, Sir," he repeated, in a still angrier tone ; " what's your business here?" "I did not come here on.businesSj Mon- sieur," said I, still keeping up the tone of levity. " I did not come here on business, a72T/ more than yourself!' The emphasis on the last words seemed to render him furious. " The sooner you go the better, then," he shouted, with a bullying frown. "For whom?" I inquired. " For yourself, Sir," was the reply. I had now also lost temper, though not altogether command of myself. " Monsieur," said I, advancing and con- fronting him, " I have yet to learn that the house of Mademoiselle Besan9on is the pro- perty of M. Dominique Gayarre. If it were so, I would be less disposed to respect the THE QUADROON. 257 sanctity of its roof. You, Sir, have not respected it. You have acted infamously towards this young girl, — this young lady^ — for she merits the title as much as the best blood in your land. I have witnessed your dastardly conduct, and heard your insulting proposals "' Here Gayarre, stai'ted, but said nothing. I continued ; — " You are not a gentleman, Sir ; and therefore not worthy to stand before my pistol. The owner of this house is not at home. At present it is as much mine as yours ; and I promise you, that if you are not out of it in ten seconds you shall have my whip laid with severity upon your shoulders." I said all this in a tone sufficiently moderate, and in cool blood. Gayarre must have seen that I meant it, for I did mean it. " You shall pay dearly for this,'' he VOL. T. s 358 THE QUADROON. hissed out. "You shall find that this is not the countiy for a spyT "Go, Sir!" " And you, my fine pattern of quadroon virtue," he added, bending a malicious glance upon Aurore ; " there may come a day when you '11 be less prudish : ' a day when you'll not find such a gallant protector." " Another word, and " The uplifted whip would have fallen on his shoulders. He did not wait for that, but gliding through the door, shufiied off over the verandah. I stepped outside to make sure that he was gone. Advancing to the end of the platform I looked over the paling. The chattering of the birds told me that some one was passing through the shrubbery. 1 watched till I saw the gate open. I could just distinguish a head above the palings moving along the road. I easily THE QUADROON. 259 recognised it as that of the disappointed seducer. As I turned back towards the drawing- room I forgot that such a creature existed 1 260 THE QUADROOX, CHAPTER XXY AN HOUR or BLISS. Sweet is gratitude under any circumstances — how much sweeter when expressed in the eyes and uttered by the hps of those we love! I re-entered the room, mv heart sweUinp- with dehghtful emotions. Gratitude was poured forth in lavish, yet graceful expres- sions. Before I could utter a word, or stretch out a hand to hinder, the beautiful girl had glided across the room, and fallen into a kneeling posture at my feet ! Her thanks came from her heart. "Rise, lovely Aurore!" said I, taking her unresisting hand, and leading her to a seat. " What I have done is scarce worth THE QUADROON. 261 thanks like thine. Who would have acted otherwise?" "Ah! Monsieur — many — many. You know not this land. There are few to protect the poor slave. The chivalry, so ranch boasted here, extends not to tts. We, in whose veins runs the accursed blood, are beyond the pale both of honour and pro- tection. Ah me, noble stranger ! you know not for how much I am your debtor!" " Call me not stranger, Aurore. It is true we have had but slight opportunity of conversing, but our acquaintance is old enough to render that title no longer ap- pKcable. I would you would speak to me by one more endearing!' " Endearing ! Monsieur, I do not under- stand you ! " Her large brown eyes were fixed upon me in a gaze of wonder, but they also inter- rogated me. " Yes, endearing — I mean, Aurore — that you will not shun me — that you mil give 262 THE QUADUOOX. me your confidence — that you will regard me as a friend — a — a — brother." " You, Monsieur ! you as my brother — a white — a gentleman, high-born and educated ! I — I — oh ! Heavens ! what am I? A slave — a slave — whom men love only to min. O God ! — why is my destiny so hard ? O God ! " " Aurore 1 " I cried, gathering courage from her agony, " Aurore, listen to me ! to me, your friend — your " She removed her hands that had been clasped across her face, and looked up. Her swimming eyes were bent steadfastly upon mine, and regarded me Avith a look of interrogation. At that moment a train of thought crossed my mind. In words it was thus : " How long may we be alone ? We may be inter- rupted? So fair an opportunity may not offer again. There is no time to waste in idle converse. I must at once to the object of my visit." THE QUADROON. 263 " Aurorel" I said, "it is the first time we have met alone. I have longed for this interview. I have a word that can only be spoken to you alone/' " To me alone, Monsiem- ! What is it ?" " Aurore, I love you ! " "Love me! Oh! Monsieur — it is not possible 1 " " Ah ! more than possible — it is true. Listen, Aurore ! From the first hour I be- held you — I might almost say before that hour., for you were in my heart before I was conscious of having seen you — from that first hour I loved you — not with a villain's love, such as you have this moment spumed, but with a pure and honest passion. And passion I may well call it, for it absorbs every other feeling of my soul. Morning and night, Aiu"ore, I think but of you. You are in my di-eams, and equally the companion of my waking hours. Do not fancy my love so calm, because I am now speaking so calmly about it. Circumstances 264 THE QUADROON. render me so. I have approaclied you with a determined purpose — one long resolved upon — and that, perhaps, gives me this firmness in declaring my love. I have said, Aurore, that I love you. I repeat it again — icith my heart and soul. Hove you !'' " Love me ! poor girl ! " There was something so ambiguous in the utterance of the last phrase, that I paused a moment in my reply. It seemed as though the sympathetic interjection had been meant for some third person rather herself ! " Aurore," I continued, after a pause, " I have told you all. I have been candid. I only ask equal candour in return. Bo you love me?'' I should have put this question less calmly, but that I felt already half-assured of the answer. We were seated on the sofa, and near each other. Before I had finished speaking, I felt her soft fingers touch mine — close THE QUADROON. 265 upon them, and press them gently together. When the question was delivered, her head fell forward on my breast, and I heard mur- muring from her lips the simple words : — " / too from the first hour /" My arms, hitherto restrained, were now twined around the yielding form, and for some moments neither uttered a word. Love's paroxysm is best enjoyed in silence. The wild intoxicating kiss — the deep mutual glance — the pressure of hands and arms and burning lips — all these need no tongue to make them intelligible. For long moments ejaculations of dehght — plurases of tender endearment — were the only words that escaped us. We were too happy to con- verse. Our lips paid respect to the solemnity of our hearts. * 7^ ^ iS ^ It was neither the place nor time for Love to go blind, and prudence soon re- called me to myself. There was still much to be said, and many plans to be discussed 266 THE QUADROON. before our new-sprung happiness should be secured to us. Both were aware of the abyss that still yawned between us. Both were aware that a thorny path must be trodden before we could reach the elysium of our hopes. Notwithstanding our present bliss,-.the future was dark and dangerous; and the thought of this soon startled us from om' short sweet dream. Aurore had no longer any fear of my love. She did not even wronsj me with suspicion. She doubted not my purpose to make her my wife. Love and gratitude stifled every doubt, and we now conversed with a mutual confidence which years of friendship could scarce have estabhshed. But we talked with hurried words. We knew not the moment we might be inter- rupted. We knew not when again we might meet alone. We had need to be brief. I explained to her my circumstances — that in a few days I expected a sum of money THE QUADROON. 267 —enough, I believed, for the piurpose. What purpose ? The piTchase of my bride ! " Then," added I, '' nothing remains but to get married, Aurore ! '' " Alas !" replied she with a sigh, " even were I free, we could not be married Jiere. Is it not a wicked law that persecutes us even when pretending to give us freedom?" I assented. " We could not get married," she con- tinued, evidently suffering under painful emotion, " we could not unless you could swear there was African blood in vour veins ! Only think of such a law in a Christian land!" " Think not of it, Am'ore," said I, wish- ing to cheer her. " There shall be no dif- ficulty about swearing that. I shall take this gold pin from your hair, open this beautiful blue vein in your arm, drink from it, and take the oath 1 " The quadroon smiled, but the moment after her look of sadness returned. 268 THE QUADROON. " Come, dearest Aurore ! chase away such thoughts ! What care Ave to be married here ? We shall go elsewhere. There are lands as fair as Louisiana, and churches as fine as St. Gabriel to be married in. We shall go northward — to England — to France — anywhere. Let not that grieve you !" ' " It is not that which grieves me." "What then, dearest?" " Oh ! It is— I fear " '' Fear not to tell me." " That you will not be able " " Declare it, Aurore." "To become my master — to — to buy me I Here the poor girl hung her head, as if ashamed to speak of such conditions. I saw the hot tears springing from her eyes. " And why do you fear?" I inquired. " Others have tried. Large sums they offered — larger even than that you have named, and they could not. They failed in their intentions, and oh ! how grateful THE QUADROON. 269 was" I to Mademoiselle ! That was my only protection. She would not part with me. How glad was I then ! but now — now how different! — the very opposite !" " But I shall give more — my w^hole for- tune. Surely that will suffice. The offers you speak of were infamous proposals, like that of M. Gayarre. Mademoiselle knew it ; she Avas too good to accept them." " That is true, but she will equally refuse yours. I fear it, alas ! alas !" "Nay, I shall confess all to Mademoiselle. I shall declare to her my honourable design. I shall implore her consent. Surely she will not refuse. Surely she feels gratitude " "Oh, Monsieiu'!" cried Aurore, inter- rupting me, " she is grateful — you know not how grateful ; but never, never will she You know not all — alas ! alas ! " With a fresh burst of tears filling her eyes, the beautiful girl sank down on the sofa, hiding her face under the folds of her luxuriant hair. 270 THE QUADROON. I was puzzled by these expressions, and about to ask for an explanation, when the noise of carriage-wheels fell upon my ear. I sprang forward to the open window, and looked over the tops of the orange-trees. I couJd just see the head of a man, whom I recognised as the coachman of Mademoiselle Besancon. The carriage was approaching the gate. In the then tumult of my feelings I could not trust myself to meet the lady, and, bidding a hurried adieu to Aurore, I rushed from the apartment. Yv^hen outside I saw that, if I went by the front gate I should risk an encounter. I knew there was a small side-wdcket that led to the stables, and a road ran thence to the woods. This would carry me to Bringiers by a back way, and stepping off from the verandah, I passed through the wdcket, and directed myself towards the stables in tlie rear. THE QUADROON. 271 CHAPTER XXVL I SOON reached tlie stables, where I was welcomed by a low whimper from my horse. Scipio was not there. '' He is gone upon some other business/' thought I ; " perhaps to meet the carriage. No matter, I shall not summon him. The saddle is on, and I can bridle the steed myself — only poor Scipio loses his quarter- dollar." I soon had my steed bitted and bridled ; and, leading the animal outside, I sprang into the saddle, and rode off. The path I was taking led past the " negro quarters," and then through some fields to the dark cypress and tupelo woods in the 272 THE QUADROON. rear. From these led a cross-way tliat would bring me out again upon the Levee road. I had travelled this path many a time, and knew it well enough. The " nigger quarter " was distant some two hundred yards from the " grande mai- son/' or " big house," of the plantation. It consisted of some fifty or sixty little " cabins," neatly built, and standing in a double row, with a broad way between. Each cabin was a fac-simile of its neigh- bour, and in front of each grew a magnolia or a beautiful China tree, under the shade of whose green leaves and sweet-scented flowers little negroes might be seen all the live-long day, disporting their bodies in the dust. These, of all sizes, from the " picca- ninny" to the ''good-sized chunk of a boy," and of every shade of slave-colour, from the fair-skinned quadroon to the black Bambara, on whom, by an American Avitticism of doubtful truthfulness, "char- coal would make a white mark!" Divest- THE QUADROON. 273 ing them of dust, you would have no diffi- culty in determining their complexion . Their little plump bodies were nude, from the top of their woolly heads to their long pro- jecting heels ! There roll they, black and yellow urchins, all the day, playing with pieces of sugar-cane, or melon-rind, or corn- cobs — cheerful and happy as any little lords could be in their well-carpeted nurseries in the midst of the costliest toys of the Ger- man bazaar ! On entering the negro quarter, you can- not fail to observe tall papaw poles or cane- reeds stuck up in front of many of the cabins, and carrying upon their tops large yellow gourd-shells, each perforated with a hole in the side. These are the dwell- ings of the purple martin, {Hirundo pur- jmrea,) — the most beautiful of American swalloAvs, and a great favourite among the ^ simple negroes, as it had been, long before their time, among the red aborigines of the soil. You will notice, too, hanging in fes- VOL. I. T 274 THE QUADROON. toons along the walls of the cabins, strings of red and green pepper-pods (species of capsicum) ; and here and there a bunch of some dried herb of medicinal virtue, belong- ing to the negro pliarmacopceia. All these are the property of "aunt Phoebe," or " aunty Cleopatra," or " ole aunt Philhs % " and the delicious " pepper-pot " that any one of these " aunts " can make out of the aforesaid green and red capsicums, assisted by a few other ingredients from the little garden " patch " in the rear of the cabin, would bring water to the teeth of an epicure. Perhaps on the cabin walls you will see suspended representatives of the animal kingdom — perhaps the skin of a rabbit, a raccoon, an opossum, or the grey fox — perhaps also that of the musk-rat {Fiber zihethicus), or, rarer still, the swamp wild- cat (bay lynx — L^no) rufus). The owner of the cabin upon which hangs the lynx-skin will be the Nimrod of the hour ; for the THE QUADROON. 275 cat is among the rarest and noblest game of the Mississippi fauna. The skin of the panther [cougar) or deer you will not see, for although both inhabit the neighbouring forest, they are too high game for the negro hunter, who is not permitted the use of a gun. The smaller " varmints " already enumerated can be captured without such aid, and the pelts you see hanging upon the cabins are the produce of many a moon- light hunt undertaken by " Caesar," or "Scipio," or "Hannibal," or " Pompey." Judging by the nomenclatm^e of the negro quarter, you might fancy yourself in ancient Rome or Carthage ! The great men above named, however, are never trusted with such a dangerous weapon as a rifle. To their skill alone do they owe their success in the chase ; and their weapons are only a stick, an axe, and a " 'coon dog " of mongrel race. Several of these last you may see rolling about in the dust among the " piccaninnies," and appa- T 2 276 THE QUADROON. rently as happy as they. But the huntmg trophies that adorn the walls do not hang there as mere ornaments. No, they are spread out to dry, and will soon give place to others — for there is a constant export going on. When uncle Ceez, or Zip, or Hanny, or Pomp, get on their Sunday finery, and repair to the village, each carries with him his stock of small pelts. There the storekeeper has a talk with them, and a " pic " (picayune) for the " mussrat," a " bit " (Spanish real) for the " 'coon," and a " quarter " for the fox or "cat," enable these four avuncular hunters to lay in a great variety of small luxuries for the four *' aunties " at home ; which little comforts are most likely ex- cluded from the regular rice-and-pork rations of the plantation. So much is a little bit of the domestic economy of the negro quarter. On entering the little village, — for the negro quarter of a grand plantation merits the title, — you cannot fail to observe all of THE QUADROON. 277 these little matters. They are the salient points of the picture. You ^\411 observe, too, the house of the " overseer " standing apart ; or, as in the case of the plantation Besancon, at the end of the double row, and fronting the main avenue. This, of course, is of a more pre- tentious style of architecture ; can boast of Venetian blinds to the windows, two sto- ries of height, and a " porch." It is en- closed with a paling to keep off the intru- sion of the children, but the dread of the painted " cowhide " renders the paling almost superfluous. As I approached the "quarter," I was struck with the peculiar character of the picture it presented, — the overseer's house towering above the humbler cabins, seeming to protect and watch over them, suggesting the similarity of a hen with her brood of chickens. 278 THE aUADROON. Here and there the great purple swallows boldly cleft the air, or, poised on wing by the entrance of their gourd-shell dwellings, uttered their cheerful ''tweet — tweet — tweet;" while the fragrant odour of the China -trees and magnolias scented the atmosphere to a long distance around. When nearer stiU, I could distinguish the hum of human voices — of men, women, and children — in that peculiar tone which characterises the voice of the African. I fancied the little community as I had before seen it — the men and women engaged in various occupations — some resting from their labour, (for it was now after field hours,) seated in front of their tent-like cabins, under the shade-tree, or standing in little groups gaily chatting with each other — some by the door mending their fishing- nets and tackle, by which they intended to capture the great " cat " and " bufiklo fish '' of the bayous — some " chopping '' fire-wood at the common '' wood-pile," THE QUADROON. 279 which half-grown urchins were ''toating" to the cabins, so that " aunty " might pre- pare the evening-meal. I was musing on the patriarchal character of such a picture, half inchned towards the " one-man power" — if not in the shape of a slaveholder, yet something after the style of Rapp and his " social economists." "What a sa\dng of state machinery/' soliloquised I, '' in this patriarchal form ! How charmingly simple ! and yet how complete and efficient ! " Just so, but I had overlooked one thing, and that was the imperfectness of human nature — the possibility — the probability — nay, the almost certainty, that the patriarch will pass into the tyrant. Hark 1 a voice louder than common ! It is a cry ! Of cheerful import? Xo — on the con- trary, it sounds like the utterance of some one in pain. It is a cry of agony ! The murmm- of other voices, too, heard at 280 THE QUADROON. short intervals, caiTies to my ear that deep portentous sound which accompanies some unnatural occurrence. Again I hear the cry of agony — deeper and louder than before ! It comes from the direction of the negro quarter. What is causing it ? I gave the spur to my horse, and galloped in the direction of the cabins. THE QUADrtOON. 281 CHAPTER XXVII. THE DEVIL S DOUCHE. In a few seconds I entered the wide avenue between the cabins, and drawing bridle, sat glancing around me. My patriarchal dreams vanished at the sight that met my eyes. Before me was a scene of tyranny, of torture — a scene from the tragedy of slave-life ! At the upper end of the quarter, and on one side of the overseer's house, was an enclosure. It Avas the enclosure of the sugar-mill — a large building which stood a little further back. Inside the fence was a tall pump, rising full ten feet in height, with the spout near its top. The purpose of this pump was to yield a stream of water. 282 THE QUADROON. which was conducted to the sugar-house by means of a slender trough, that served as an aqueduct. A platform was raised a few feet above the ground, so as to enable the person working the pump to reach its handle. To this spot my attention was directed by seeing that the negroes of the quarter were grouped around it, while the women and children, clinging along the fence, had their eyes bent in the same direction. The faces of all — men, women, and children — wore an ominous and gloomy expression ; and the attitudes in which they stood be- tokened terror and alarm. Murmurs I could hear — now and then ejaculations — and sobs that bespoke sympathy with some one who suffered. I saw scowling brows, as if knit by thoughts of vengeance. But these last were few — the more general expression was one of terror and submission. It was not difficult to tell that the cry I had heard proceeded from the neighbourhood THE QUADROON. 283 of the pump, and a glance unfolded the cause. Some poor slave was undergoing punishment ! A group of negroes hid the unfortunate from my view, but over their heads I could see the slave Gabriel, his body naked to the breech, mounted upon the platform and working the pump with all his might. This Gabriel was a Bambara negro, of huge size and strength, branded on both shoulders with the fletir-de-lis. He was a man of fierce, aspect, and, as I had heard, of fierce and brutal habit — feared not only by the other ^negroes, but by the whites with whom he came in contact. It was not he that was undergoing punishment. On the contrary, he was the instrument of torture. And torture it was — I knew the punish- ment well. The trough or aqueduct had been re- moved ; and the victim was placed at the bottom of the pump, directly imder the spout. He was fast bound in a species of 284 THE QUADROON. stocks ; and in sucli a position that he could not move his head, which received the con- tinuoiis jet in the very centre of the crown ! Torture? No doubt, vou are incredu- lous? You fancy there can be no great torture in that. A simple shock — a shower- bath — nothing more ! You are right. For the first half-minute or so it is but a shock, a shower-bath, but then Believe me when I declare to you — that a stream of molten lead — an axe continually crashing through the skull — would not be more painful than the falling of this cold- water jet ! It is torture beyond endurance — agony indescribable. Well may it be called the " devil's douche." Again the agonised cry came from the pump, almost curdling my blood. As I have said, I could not see the suf- ferer at first. A row of bodies was inter- posed between him and me. The negroes, however, seeing me ride up, eagerly opened THE QUADROON. 285 their ranks and fell back a pace, as if de- siring I should be a witness to ^Yhat was going forward. They all knew me, and all had some impression that I si/mj)athised with their unfortunate race. This opening gave me a full view of the horrid spectacle, disclosing a group that made me start in the saddle. Under the torture was the victim — a man of sable hue. Close by him, a large mulatto woman and a young girl of the same complexion — mother and daughter — stood folded in each other's arms — both weeping bitterly. I could hear their sobs and ejaculations, even at the dis- tance of a score of yards, and above the plashing sound of the falling water. I recog- nised at a sjlance who these were — thev were the little Chloe and her mother ! Quick as lightning my eyes were di- rected towards the sufferer. The water as it bounded from his crown spread into a glassy sheet, that completely concealed his head, but the huge fin-hke projecting ears 286 THE QUADROON. told me who was the victim. It was Scipio ! Again his cry of agony pealed upon my ears— deep and prolonged — as though it issued from the innermost recesses of his soul! I did not wait till that cry Avas ended. A fence of six rails separated me from the sufferer; but what of that? I did not hesitate a moment, but winding my horse round to give liim the run, I headed him at the leap, and with a touch of the spm^ lifted him into the enclosure. I did not even stay to dismount, but galloping up to the platform, laid my whip across the naked shoulders of the Bambara with all the force that lay in my arm. The astonished savage dropped the pump-handle as if it had been iron at a w^hite heat ; and leaping from the platform, ran off howling to his cabin ! Exclamations and loud murmurings of applause followed ; but my horse, brought so THE QUADROON. 287 suddenly to this exciting work, snorted and plunged, and it was some time before I could quiet him. While thus engaged, I observed that the exclamations were sud- denly discontinued ; and the murmurs of ap- plause were succeeded by a dead ominous silence ! I coidd hear several of the negroes nearest me muttering some words of caution, as though meant for me ; among others the cry of — " De oberseer 1 de oberseer ! Look out, mass'r ! Dar he kum ! " At that moment an abominable oath, uttered in a loud voice, reached my ears. I looked in the direction whence it came. As I anticipated, it was the overseer. He was just issuing from the back-door of his house — from a T\dndow of which he had been all the while a spectator of Scipio's torture ! I had not come in contact with this person before ; and I now saw approaching a man of fierce and brutal aspect, somewhat 288 THE QUADROON. flashily dressed, and carrying in his hand a thick wagon-whip. I conld see that his face was livid with rage, and that he was directing himself to attack me. I had no weapon but my riding- whip, and with this I prepared to receive his assault. He came on at a run, all the while venting the most diabolical curses. When he had got nearly up to my horse's head, he stopped a moment, and thundered out : — " Who the h — 11 are you, meddling with my affairs? Who the d n are p" He suddenly paused in his speech, and stood staring in astonishment. I recipro- cated that astonishment, for I had now recog- nised in the brutal overseer my antagonist of the boat ! the hero of the bowie-knife ! At the same instant he recognised me I The pause which was the result of our mutual surprise, lasted but a moment. " H — 11 and furies ! " ciied the ruffian. THE QUADROON. 289 changing his former tone only into one more horribly furious, — " It's you, is it? Whip be d d ! I've something else for your And as he said this he drew a pistol from his coat ; and, hastily cocking it, aimed it at my breast. I was still on horseback, and in motion, else he would no doubt have delivered his fire at once ; but my horse reared up at the gleam of the pistol, and his body was thus interposed between mine and its muzzle. As I have said, I had no weapon but the whip. Fortunately it was a stout hunting- whip, with loaded butt. I hastily turned it in my hand, and just as the hoofs of my horse came back to the earth, I drove the spur so deeply into his ribs that he sprang forward more than his own length. This placed me in the very spot I wanted to be — alongside my ruffian antagonist — who, taken aback by my sudden change of position, hesitated a moment before taking fresh aim. Before VOL. I. u 290 THE QUADROON. he could pull trigger, the butt of my whip descended upon his skull, and doubled him up in the dust! His pistol went off as he fell, and the bullet ploughed up the ground between my horse's hoofs, but fortunately hit no one. The weapon itself flew out of his hand, and lay beside him where he had fallen. It was a mere lucky hit, — all owing to the spur being touched, and my horse hav- ing sprung forward in good time. Had I missed the blow, I should not likely have had a second chance. The pistol was double-barrelled; and on examination I found he carried another of a similar kind. He was now lying as still as if asleep, and I began to fear I had killed him. This would have been a serious matter. Although perfectly justifiable in me to have done so, who was to show that ? The evidence of those around me — the whole of them toge- ther — was not worth the asseveration of one white man ; and under the circumstances THE QUADROON. 291 not worth a straw. Indeed, considering what had immediately led to the rencontre, such testimony would have been more likely to damage my case thnn otherwise ! I felt myself in an awkward situation. I now dismounted, and approached the prostrate form, around which the blacks were congregating. They made way for me. I knelt down and examined the head. It was cut and bleeding, but the skull w^as still sound ! The knowledge of this fact set my mind at rest, and before I rose to my feet I had the satisfaction to see that the fellow was coming to his senses, under the influence of a douche of cold water. The butt of the second pistol came under my eye, as it stuck out from the breast of his coat. I drew it forth, and along with its fellow took them into my own keeping. " Tell him," said I, " as soon as he comes to himself, that when he next attacks me, I shall have pistols as well as he 1 " u2 292 THE QUADROON. Having ordered him to be carried into the house, I now turned my attention to his victim. Poor Scipio ! he had been most cruelly tortured, and it was some time be- fore he recovered his faculties, so as to be able to tell me why he had been thus punished. The relation he at length gave, and it made the blood boil afresh within my veins. He had surprised the overseer in some of the out-buildings with little Chloe in his arms, the child crying out and struggling to get free ! Natural indignation on the part of the father led to a blow — an offence for which Scipio might have lost an ^rm \ but the white wretch, knowing that he dare not, for his own sake, expose the motive, had commuted Scipio's legal punishment to a little private torture under the pump ! My first impulse on hearing this sad story was to return to the house, report what had occurred to Mademoiselle, and urge upon Jier the necessity of getting rid of this savage overseer at all risk. THE QUADROON. 293^ After a little reflection, I changed my mind. I purposed to return upon the morrow, on business of — to me — much greater importance. To-morrow it was my intention to hid for Aurore I " I can then," thought I, " introduce the case of poor Scipio. Perhaps it may be an introduction to the ' graver theme ? ' " Having promised this much to my old attendant, I mounted my horse, and rode off, amidst a shower of blessings. As I passed through the avenue at a walk, women and half-grown girls hurried from their doors, and kissed my feet as they hung in the stirrups ! The burning love which so late filled my heart was for a moment unfelt. Its place was occupied by a calm, sweet happiness — the happiness that springs from bene- faction ! 294 THE QUADROON. CHAPTER XXVIIT. GATARRE AND " BULLY BILL." On riding out from the quarter T changed my intention of taking tlie back road. My visit would no doubt become known to Mademoiselle, and it differed not if I should now be seen from the house. My blood was up — so was that of my horse. A rail-fence was nothing to either of us now ; so heading round, I cleared a couple of palings; and then striking across a cotton-field arrived once more on the Levee road. After a while, as soon as I had cooled down ray horse, I rode slowly, reflecting upon what had just happened. It was evident that this ruffian had been THE QUADROON. 295 put upon the plantation by Gayarre for some secret purpose. Whether he and the lawyer had had previous acquaintance I could not guess ; but such uien have a sort of instinctive knowledge of one another, and he ini..ht be only a waif that the latter had picked up since the night of the wreck. On the boat I had supposed him to be some rough gambler, by the propensity he exhi- bited for betting ; and possibly he might have been playing that role of late. It was evident, however, that "negro-driving" was his trade — at all events it was not new to him. Strange that he had been all this time on the plantation without knowing of me! But that could be easily accounted for. He had never seen me during my stay at the house. Moreover, he may have been ignorant that Mademoiselle was the lady with whom he intended to have shared the life-preserver. This last hypothesis was probable enough, for there w^ere other ladies 296 THE QUADROON. who escaped by means of rafts, and sofas, and life-preservers. I fancied he had not seen Mademoiselle until she was springing over the guards, and would therefore scarce recognise her again. The cause of my being an invalid was only known to Mademoiselle, Aurore, and Scipio ; and the latter had been charged not to carry this knowledge to the negro quarter. Then the fellow was but new on the plantation, and had but little intercourse with its mistress, as he received most of his orders from Gayarre ; besides, he was but a dull brute after all. It was just like enough that, up to the moment of our late encounter, he had no suspicion either that I w^as his former an- tagonist on the boat, or Eugenie Besan^on the lady who had escaped him. He must have known of my presence on the plantation, but only as one of the survivors of the wreck, badly wounded, — scalded, perhaps, — but there had been a number of others. THE QUADROON. 297 picked up, — scarce a house for some dis- tance along the coast but had given shelter to some wounded or half-drowned unfortu- nate. He had been busy with his own affairs ; or rather, perhaps, those of Gayarre : for I had no doubt there was some con- spiracy between them in which this fellow was to play a part. Dull as he was, he had something which his employer might regard of more value than intellect : something, too, which the latter himself lacked, — brute strength and brute courage. Gayarre no doubt had a use for him, else he would not have been there. He knew me now, and was not hkely soon to forget me. Would he seek revenge ? Be- yond doubt he would, but I fancied it would be by some base underhand means. I had no fear that he would again attack me openly, at least by himself. I felt quite sure that I had conquered, and encowardiced him. I had encountered his like before. I knew 298 THE QUADROON. that his courage was not of that character to outlive defeat. It was the courage of the bravo. I had no fear of an open attack. All I had to apprehend was some secret revenge, or perhaps the latv ! You will wonder that any thought or dread of the latter should have occurred to me : but it did ; and I had my reasons. ifr yp ^ ^ ^ The knowledge of Gayarre's designs, the detection of his villanous purpose with Aurore, and my rencontre with Larkin, had brought matters to a crisis. I was filled with anxiety, and convinced of the necessity of a speedy interview with Ma- demoiselle, in relation to what was nearest my heart, the purchase of the quadroon. There was no reason why a single hour should be wasted, now that Aurore and I understood each other, and had, in fact, betrothed ourselves. THE QUADROON. 299 I even thought of riding back at once, and had turned my horse for the purpose. I hesitated. My resolution wavered. I wheeled round again, and kept on to Brin- giers, with the determination to return to the plantation at an early hour in the morning. I entered the village, and proceeded straight to the hotel. On my table I found a letter containing a cheque for two Iiundred pounds on the Bringiers bank. It was from my banking agent in New Orleans, who liad received it from England. The letter also contained the information that five hundred more would reach me in a few days. The sum received was a pleasant relief, and would enable rne to discharge my pecuniary obliga- tions to Reigart ; which in the next hour I had the pleasure of doing. I passed a night of great anxiety, — almost a sleepless night. No wonder. To-n^orrow was to be a crisis. For me, happiness or 300 THE QUADROON. misery was in the womb of to-morrow. A thousand hopes and fears hung suspended on the result of my interview with Eugenie Besan9on. I actually looked forward to this interview with more anxiety than I had done but a few hours ago to that with Aurore ! Perhaps, because I had less confi- dence in a favourable result. As early as etiquette would allow of a morning visit, I was in the saddle, and heading towards the plantation Besan^on. As I rode out of the village I noticed that men regarded me with glances that bespoke an unusual interest. "My affair with the overseer is already known," thought I. " No doubt the negroes have spread the report of it. Such matters soon become pubhc." I was unpleasantly impressed with an idea that the expression on people's faces was anything but a friendly one. Had I committed an unpopular act in protecting THE aUADROON. 301 myself? Usually the conqueror in such an encounter is rather popular than other- wise, in the chivalric land of Louisiana. Why, then, did men look scowling upon me ? What had I done to merit reproach ? I had " whipped " a rude fellow, w^hom men esteemed a "bully;" and in self-defence had I acted. The act should have gained me applause, according to the code of the country. Why then, ha ! stay ! I had interfered between white and black. I had protected a slave from punishment. Perhaps that might account for the disagreeable ex- pression I had observed ! I could just guess at another cause, of a very different and somewhat ludicrous cha- racter. It had got ruQioured abroad that I " was upon good terms with Mademoiselle Besan9on," and that it was not unlikely that one of these fine days the adventurer, whom nobody knew anything about, would carry off the rich plantress ! 302 THE QUADROON. There is no part of the world where such a honne fortune is not regarded with envy. The United States is no exception to the rule ; and I had reason to know that on account of this absurd rumour I was not very favourably regarded by some of the young planters and dandy storekeepers wlio loitered about the streets of Bringiers. 1 rode on without heeding the " black looks" that were cast upon me, and indeed soon ceased thinking of them. My mind was too full of anxiety about the approach- ing interview to be impressed with minor cares. Of course Eugenie would have heard all about the affair of yesterday. What would be her feelings in relation to it ? I felt cer- tain that this ruffian was forced upon her by Gayarre. She would have no sym- pathy with 1dm. The question was, would she have the courage — nay, the power to discharge him from her service? Even THE QUADROON. 303 on hearing who he was ? It was doubtful enougli ! I was overwhelmed with sympathy for this poor girl. I felt satisfied that Cayarre must be her creditor to a large amount, and in that way had her in his power. AVhat he had said to Aurore, convinced me that such was the case. Indeed, Reigart had heard some whisper that his debt had already been proved before the courts in New Or- leans; that no opposition had been made; that he had obtained a verdict, and could seize upon her property, or as much of it as would satisfy his demands, at any moment ! It was only the night before Reigart had told me this, and the information had ren- dered me all the more anxious to hasten my business in relation to Aurore. I spurred into a gallop, and soon came in sight of the |)lantation. Having arrived at the gate, I dismounted. There was no one to hold my horse, but that is a 304 THE QUADROON. slight matter in America, where a gate- post or the branch of a tree often serves as a groom. Bethinking me of this ready expedient, I tossed my rein over one of the pahngs, and walked toward the house. THE QUADROON. 305 CHAPTER XXIX. 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 doubt given him a headache that would confine him for some days to his quarters. But I was prepared for any event. Under my waistcoat were his own double-barrelled pistols, which I intended to use, if attacked. It was my first essay at carrying " concealed wea- pons," but it was the fashion of the country at the time — a fashion followed by nine- teen out of every twenty persons you met — by planters, merchants, lawyers, doctors, and even divines ! So prepared, I had no VOL. I. X C 306 THE QUADROON. fear of an encounter with " Bully Bill." If my pulse beat quick, and my step was nervous, it was on account of the antici- pated 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 without reserve or embarrassment. To my surprise as well as gratification she appeared more cheerful than usual. I could even detect a signifi- cant smile ! I fancied she was pleased at what had occurred ; for of course she 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 not come into the room — at least for a time. I was embarrassed. I scarce knew how to open the conversation, much less to break to Ma- demoiselle the matter that was nearest my heart. A few ordinary phrases passed be- tween us, and then our conversation turned THE QUADROON. 307 upon the affair of yesterday. I told her all — everything — except the scene with Aurore. That was omitted. I hesitated for some time whether I should let her know loho her overseer was. When she should ascertain that he was the fellow who had wounded me on the boat, and who but for me would have taken away her chances of safety, I felt certain she would insist upon getting rid of him at all risks. For a moment I reflected upon the conse- quences. "She will never be safe," thought I, " with such a ruffian at her side. Better for her to make stand at once." Under this belief I boldly came out with the in- formation. She seemed astounded, and, clasping her hands, remained for some moments in an attitude of mute agony. At length she cried out : — " Gayarre — Gayarre ! it is you, M. Ga- yarre ! Oh ! mon Bieu I mon Dieu ! x2 308 THE QUADROON. 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. Though I could only guess the nature of her sorrow, she listened to me patiently, and I fancied that what I said gave her pleasure. Taking courage from this, I proceeded to inquire more particularly the cause of her grief. " Mademoiselle," said I, " you will pardon the liberty I am taking; but for some time I have observed, or fancied, that you have a cause of — of — unhappi- ness " She fixed her eyes upon me in a gaze of silent wonder. I hesitated a moment under this strange regard, and then con- tinued, — " Pardon me. Mademoiselle, if I speak too boldly ; I assure you my motive " THE QUADROON. 309 " Speak on, Monsieur ! " she said, in a calm sad voice. " I noticed this the more, because when I first had the pleasure of seeing you, your manner was so very difi'erent — in fact, quite the reverse " A sigh and a sad smile were the only reply. These interrupted me for but a moment, and I proceeded : — " When first observing this change, Mademoiselle, I attributed it to grief 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 interroga- 310 THE QUADROON. tion, that now met mine, caused me 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 me for asking. Do I not recognise in M. Gayarre the cause of your unhappi- She started at the question, and turned visibly paler. In a moment, however, she seemed to recover herself, and replied calmly, but with a look of strange signifi- cance : — " Helas 1 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 sudden alteration, and she continued : — " Please, Monsieur, let us change the subject? I owe you life and gratitude. Would I knew how to repay you for your THE QUADROON. 311 generous gall antry — your — your — friend- ship! Perhaps some day you may know all. I would tell you now, but — but — Monsieur — there are — I cannot " " Mademoiselle Besan^on, I entreat you, do not for a moment let the questions I have asked have any consideration. They were not put from idle curiosity. I need not tell you, Mademoiselle, that my motive was of a higher kind '* " I know it, Monsieur — I know it ; but no more of it now, I pray you — let us speak on some other subject." Some other subject ! I had no longer the choice of one. I had no longer control of my tongue. The subject which was nearest my heart sprang spontaneously to my lips ; and in hurried words I declared my love for Aurore. I detailed the whole course of my passion, from the hour of my dream-like vision up to that when we had plighted our mutual troth. My listener was seated upon the low 312 THE QUADROON. ottoman directly before me ; but from mo- tives of bashfulness I had kept my eyes averted during the time I was speaking. She heard me without interruption, and I augured well from this silence. I concluded at length, and with trem- bling heart was awaiting her reply; when a deep sigh, followed by a rustling sound, caused me suddenly to turn. Eugenie had fallen upon the floor ! With a glance I saw she had fainted. I flung my arms around her, and carried her to the sofa. I was about to call for assistance when the door opened, and a form glided into the room. It was Aurore ! " Mon Dieu I " exclaimed the latter ; " vous Vavez faire mourir I elle faime — elle faime!** END OF VOL. I. London -.—Printed by G. Barclay, Castle St. Leicester Sq. vm^. UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 3 0112 084219093 ■■:*ii 1 ^ k.