The Quadroon: Adventures in the Far West

“Peste!” 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! They 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, – ay, love with all – ”

“Monsieur Dominique! I repeat – ”

“Dearest Aurore! say you 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 were my wife.”

“Enough, Monsieur! enough! Your insult – I 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 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 towards him. She, on the contrary, was exerting all her women’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 muttering in return.

“What business have you here, Sir?” was his first intelligible question.

“I need not ask the same of you, Monsieur 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 business, Monsieur,” said I, still keeping up the tone of levity. “I did not come here on business, any 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 confronting him, “I have yet to learn that the house of Mademoiselle Besançon is the property of Monsieur Dominique Gayarre. If it were so, I would be less disposed to respect the 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 started, 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 hissed out. “You shall find that this is not the country for a spy.”

“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’ll 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, shuffled off over the verandah.

I stopped 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.

I watched till I saw the gate open. I could just distinguish a head above the palings moving along the road. I easily recognised it as that of the disappointed seducer.

As I turned back, towards the drawing-room I forgot that such a creature existed!

Chapter Twenty Five

An Hour of Bliss

Sweet is gratitude under any circumstances; how much sweeter when expressed in the eyes and uttered by the lips of those we love!

I re-entered the room, my heart swelling with delightful emotions. Gratitude was poured forth in, lavish yet graceful expressions. 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 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 much boasted here, extends not to us. We, in whose veins runs the accursed blood, are beyond the pale both of honour and protection. 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 applicable. I would you would speak to me by one more endearing.”

“Endearing! Monsieur, I do not understand you!”

Her large brown eyes were fixed upon me in a gaze of wonder, but they also interrogated me.

“Yes, endearing – I mean, Aurore – that you will not shun me – that you will give 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 ruin. O God! – why is my destiny so hard? O God!”

“Aurore!” 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 with 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 interrupted? 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.”

“Aurore!” 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, Monsieur! What is it?”

“Aurore, I love you!”

“Love me! Oh, Monsieur, it is not possible!”