"Yes, but it would be ruinous."
"No; the one for wealthy people would be a steamer like this, and the one for emigrants a sailing vessel."
"But that too would be unjust, Madame, for the steamer would go more quickly than the sailing boat."
"That would not matter at all," I argued. "Wealthy people are always in a hurry, and the poor never are. And then, considering what is awaiting them in the land to which they are going----"
"It is the Promised Land."
"Oh, poor things! poor things! with their Promised Land! Dakota or Colorado.... In the day-time they have the sun which makes their brains boil, scorches the ground, dries up the springs, and brings forth endless numbers of mosquitoes to sting their bodies and try their patience. The Promised Land!... At night they have the terrible cold to make their eyes smart, to stiffen their joints and ruin their lungs. The Promised Land!
"It is just death in some out-of-the-world place after fruitless appeals to the justice of their fellow countrymen. They will breathe their life out in a sob or in a terrible curse of hatred. G.o.d will have mercy on them though, for it is piteous to think that all these poor creatures are delivered over, with their feet bound by suffering and their hands bound by hope, to the slave-drivers who trade in white slaves. And when I think that the money is in the purser"s cash-box which the slave-driver has paid for the transport of all these poor creatures!
Money that has been collected by rough hands or trembling fingers. Poor money economised, copper by copper, tear by tear. When I think of all this it makes me wish that we could be shipwrecked, that _we_ could be all killed and all of them saved."
With these words I hurried away to my cabin to have a good cry, for I was seized with a great love for humanity and intense grief that I could do nothing, absolutely nothing!
The following morning I woke late, as I had not fallen asleep until very late. My cabin was full of visitors, and they were all holding small parcels half concealed. I rubbed my sleepy eyes, and could not quite understand the meaning of this invasion.
"My dear Sarah," said Madame Guerard, coming to me and kissing me, "don"t imagine that this day, your _fete_ day, could be forgotten by those who love you."
"Oh," I exclaimed, "is it the 23rd?"
"Yes, and here is the first of the remembrances from the absent ones."
My eyes filled with tears, and it was through a mist that I saw the portrait of that young being more precious to me than anything else in the world, with a few words in his own handwriting. Then there were some presents from friends--pieces of work from humble admirers. My little G.o.dson of the previous evening was brought to me in a basket, with oranges, apples, and tangerines all round him. He had a golden star on his forehead, a star cut out of some gold paper in which chocolate had been wrapped. My maid Felicie, and Claude her husband, who were most devoted to me, had prepared some very ingenious little surprises.
Presently there was a knock at my door, and on my calling out "Come in!"
I saw, to my surprise, three sailors carrying a superb bouquet, which they presented to me in the name of the whole crew.
I was wild with admiration, and wanted to know how they had managed to keep the flowers in such good condition.
It was an enormous bouquet, but when I took it in my hands I let it fall to the ground in an uncontrollable fit of laughter. The flowers were all cut out of vegetables, but so perfectly done that the illusion was complete at a little distance. Magnificent roses were cut out of carrots, camellias out of turnips, small radishes had furnished sprays of rose-buds stuck on to long leeks dyed green, and all these relieved by carrot leaves artistically arranged to imitate the gra.s.sy plants used for elegant bouquets. The stalks were tied together with a bow of tri-coloured ribbon. One of the sailors made a very touching little speech on behalf of his comrades, who wished to thank me for a trifling service rendered. I shook hands cordially and thanked them heartily, and this was the signal for a little concert that had been organised in the cabin of _mon pet.i.t Dame_. There had been a private rehearsal with two violins and a flute, so that for the next hour I was lulled by the most delightful music, which transported me to my own dear ones, to my home, which seemed so distant from me at that moment.
This little _fete_, which was almost a domestic one, together with the music, had evoked the tender and restful side of my life, and the tears that all this called forth fell without grief, bitterness, or regret. I wept simply because I was deeply moved, and I was tired, nervous, and weary, and had a longing for rest and peace. I fell asleep in the midst of my tears, sighs, and sobs.
x.x.xIII
ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK--AMERICAN REPORTERS--THE CUSTOM HOUSE--PERFORMANCES IN NEW YORK--A VISIT TO EDISON AT MENLO PARK
Finally the ship arrived on October 27, at half-past six in the morning.
I was asleep, worn out by three days and nights of wild storms. My maid had some difficulty in rousing me. I could not believe that we had arrived, and I wanted to go on sleeping until the last minute. I had to give in to the evidence, however, as the screw had stopped, and I heard a sound of dull thuds echoing in the distance. I put my head out of my port-hole, and saw some men endeavouring to make a pa.s.sage for us through the river. The Hudson was frozen hard, and the heavy vessel could only advance with the aid of pick-axes cutting away the blocks of ice.
This sudden arrival delighted me, and everything seemed to be transformed in a minute. I forgot all my discomforts and the weariness of the twelve days" crossing. The sun was rising, pale but rose-tinted, dispersing the mists and shining over the ice, which, thanks to the efforts of our pioneers, was splintered into a thousand luminous pieces.
I had entered the New World in the midst of a display of ice-fireworks.
It was fairy-like and somewhat crazy, but it seemed to me that it must be a good omen.
I am so superst.i.tious that if I had arrived when there was no sunshine I should have been wretched and most anxious until after my first performance. It is a perfect torture to be superst.i.tious to this degree, and, unfortunately for me, I am ten times more so now than I was in those days, for besides the superst.i.tions of my own country, I have, thanks to my travels, added to my stock all the superst.i.tions of the other countries. I know them all now, and in any critical moment of my life they all rise up in armed legions, for or against me. I cannot walk a single step or make any movement or gesture, sit down, go out, look at the sky or the ground, without finding some reason for hope or for despair, until at last, exasperated by the trammels put upon my actions by my thought, I defy all my superst.i.tions and just act as I want to act. Delighted, then, with what seemed to me to be a good omen, I began to dress gleefully.
Mr. Jarrett had just knocked at my door.
"Do please be ready as soon as possible, Madame," he said, "for there are several boats, with the French colours flying, that have come out to meet you."
I glanced in the direction of my port-hole, and saw a steamer, the deck of which was black with people, and then two other small boats no less laden than the first one.
The sun lighted up all these French flags, and my heart began to beat more quickly.
I had been without any news for twelve days, as, in spite of all the efforts of our good captain, _L"Amerique_ had taken twelve days for the journey.
A man had just come on deck, and I rushed towards him with outstretched hands, unable to utter a single word.
He gave me a packet of telegrams. I did not see any one present, and I heard no sound. I wanted to know something. And among all the telegrams I was searching first for one, just one name. At last I had it, the telegram I had waited for, feared and hoped to receive, signed Maurice.
Here it was at last. I closed my eyes for a second, and during that time I saw all that was dear to me and felt the infinite sweetness of it all.
When I opened my eyes again I was slightly embarra.s.sed, for I was surrounded by a crowd of unknown people, all of them silent and indulgent, but evidently very curious. Wishing to go away, I took Mr.
Jarrett"s arm and went to the saloon. As soon as I entered the first notes of the Ma.r.s.eillaise rang out, and our Consul spoke a few words of welcome and handed me some flowers. A group representing the French colony presented me with a friendly address. Then M. Mercier, the editor of the _Courrier des Etats Unis_, made a speech, as witty as it was kindly. It was a thoroughly French speech. Then came the terrible moment of introductions. Oh, what a tiring time that was! My mind was kept at a tension to catch the names. Mr. Pemb----, Madame Harth----, with the _h_ aspirated. With great difficulty I grasped the first syllable, and the second finished in a confusion of m.u.f.fled vowels and hissing consonants.
By the time the twentieth name was p.r.o.nounced I had given up listening; I simply kept on with my little _risorius de Santorini_, half closed my eyes, held out mechanically the arm at the end of which was the hand that had to shake and be shaken. I replied all the time: _"Combien je suis charmee, Madame.... Oh! Certainement.... Oh oui!... Oh non!...
Ah!... Oh!... Oh!..."_ I was getting dazed, idiotic--worn out with standing. I had only one idea, and that was to get my rings off the fingers that were swelling with the repeated grips they were enduring.
My eyes were getting larger and larger with terror as they gazed at the door through which the crowd continued to stream in my direction. There were still the names of all these people to hear and all these hands to shake. My _risorius de Santorini_ must still go on working more than fifty times. I could feel the beads of perspiration standing out under my hair, and I began to get terribly nervous. My teeth chattered and I commenced stammering: _"Oh, Madame!... Oh!... Je suis cha----cha----"_ I really could not go on any longer. I felt that I should get angry or burst out crying--in fact, that I was about to make myself ridiculous. I decided therefore to faint. I made a movement with my hand as though it wanted to continue but could not. I opened my mouth, closed my eyes, and fell gently into Jarrett"s arms. "Quick! Air!... A doctor!... Poor thing.... How pale she is! Take her hat off!... Loosen her corset!...
She doesn"t wear one. Unfasten her dress!..." I was terrified, but Felicie was called up in haste, and _mon pet.i.t Dame_ would not allow any _deshabillage_. The doctor came back with a bottle of ether. Felicie seized the bottle.
"Oh no, doctor--not ether! When Madame is quite well the odour of ether will make her faint."
This was quite true, and I thought it was time to come to my senses again. The reporters were arriving, and there were more than twenty of them; but Jarrett, who was very much affected, asked them to go to the Albemarle Hotel, where I was to put up. I saw each of the reporters take Jarrett aside, and when I asked him what the secret was of all these "asides," he answered phlegmatically, "I have made an appointment with them for one o"clock. There will be a fresh one every ten minutes." I looked at him, petrified with astonishment. He met my anxious gaze and said:
"_Ah oui; il etait necessaire._"
On arriving at the Albemarle Hotel I felt tired and nervous, and wanted to be left quite alone. I hurried away at once to my room in the suite that had been engaged for me, and fastened the doors. There was neither lock nor bolt on one of them, but I pushed a piece of furniture against it, and then refused emphatically to open it. There were about fifty people waiting in the drawing-room, but I had that feeling of awful weariness which makes one ready to go to the most violent extremes for the sake of an hour"s repose. I wanted to lie down on the rug, cross my arms, throw my head back, and close my eyes. I did not want to talk any more, and I did not want to have to smile or look at any one. I threw myself down on the floor, and was deaf to the knocks on my door and to Jarrett"s supplications. I did not want to argue the matter, so I did not utter a word. I heard the murmur of grumbling voices, and Jarrett"s words tactfully persuading the visitors to stay. I heard the rustle of paper being pushed under the door, and Madame Guerard whispering to Jarrett, who was furious.
"You don"t know her, Monsieur Jarrett," I heard her say. "If she thought you were forcing the door open, against which she has pushed the furniture, she would jump out of the window!"
Then I heard Felicie talking to a French lady who was insisting on seeing me.
"It is quite impossible," she was saying. "Madame would be quite hysterical. She needs an hour"s rest, and every one must wait!"
For some little time I could hear a confused murmur which seemed to get farther away, and then I fell into a delicious sleep, laughing to myself as I went off, for my good temper returned as I pictured the angry, nonplussed expression on the faces of my visitors.
I woke in an hour"s time, for I have the precious gift of being able to sleep ten minutes, a quarter of an hour, or an hour, just as I like, and I then wake up quite peacefully without a shake at the time I choose to rouse up. Nothing does me so much good as this rest to body and mind, decided upon and regulated merely by my will.
Very often when among my intimate friends I have lain down on the bear-skin hearth-rug in front of the fire, telling every one to go on talking, and to take no notice of me. I have then slept perhaps for an hour, and on waking have found two or three new-comers in the room, who, not wishing to disturb me, have taken part in the general conversation whilst waiting until I should wake up and they could present their respects to me. Even now I lie down on the huge wide sofa in the little Empire _salon_ which leads into my dressing-room, and I sleep whilst waiting for the friends and artistes with whom I have made appointments to be ushered in. When I open my eyes I see the faces of my kind friends, who shake hands cordially, delighted that I should have had some rest. My mind is then tranquil, and I am ready to listen to all the beautiful ideas proposed to me, or to decline the absurdities submitted to me without being ungracious.
I woke up then at the Albemarle Hotel an hour later, and found myself lying on the rug. I opened the door of my room, and discovered my dear Guerard and my faithful Felicie seated on a trunk.
"Are there any people there still?" I asked.