"Mr. Ritchie will keep this until the negotiations are finished," said the Vicomtesse.
"Negotiations!" cried Auguste, beside himself. "This is insolence, Madame."
"Be careful, sir," I said.
"Auguste!" cried Antoinette, putting her hand on his arm.
"Why did you tell them?" he demanded, turning on her.
"Because I trust them, Auguste," Antoinette answered. She spoke without anger, as one whose sorrow has put her beyond it. Her speech had a dignity and force which might have awed a worthier man. His disappointment and chagrin brought him beyond bounds.
"You trust them!" he cried, "you trust them when they tell you to give your brother, who is starving and in peril of his life, eight hundred livres? Eight hundred livres, pardieu, and your brother!"
"It is all I have, Auguste," said his sister, sadly.
"Ha!" he said dramatically, "I see, they seek my destruction. This man"--pointing at me--"is a Federalist, and Madame la Vicomtesse"--he bowed ironically--"is a Royalist."
"Pish!" said the Vicomtesse, impatiently, "it would be an easy matter to have you sent to the Morro--a word to Monsieur de Carondelet, Auguste.
Do you believe for a moment that, in your father"s absence, I would have allowed Antoinette to come here alone? And it was a happy circ.u.mstance that I could call on such a man as Mr. Ritchie to come with us."
"It seems to me that Mr. Ritchie and his friends have already brought sufficient misfortune on the family."
It was a villanous speech. Antoinette turned away, her shoulders quivering, and I took a step towards him; but Madame la Vicomtesse made a swift gesture, and I stopped, I know not why. She gave an exclamation so sharp that he flinched physically, as though he had been struck. But it was characteristic of her that when she began to speak, her words cut rather than lashed.
"Auguste de St. Gre," she said, "I know you. The Tribunal is merciful compared to you. There is no one on earth whom you would not torture for your selfish ends, no one whom you would not sell without compunction for your pleasure. There are things that a woman should not mention, and yet I would tell them without shame to your face were it not for your sister. If it were not for her, I would not have you in my presence.
Shall I speak of your career in France? There is Valenciennes, for example--"
She stopped abruptly. The man was gray, but not on his account did the Vicomtesse stay her speech. She forgot him as though he did not exist, and by one of those swift transitions which thrilled me had gone to the sobbing Antoinette and taken her in her arms, murmuring endearments of which our language is not capable. I, too, forgot Auguste. But no rebuke, however stinging, could make him forget himself, and before we realized it he was talking again. He had changed his tactics.
"This is my home," he said, "where I might expect shelter and comfort.
You make me an outcast."
Antoinette disengaged herself from Helene with a cry, but he turned away from her and shrugged.
"A stranger would have fared better. Perhaps you will have more consideration for a stranger. There is a French ship at the Terre aux Boeufs in the English Turn, which sails to-night. I appeal to you, Mr.
Ritchie,"--he was still talking in French--"I appeal to you, who are a man of affairs,"--and he swept me a bow,--"if a captain would risk taking a fugitive to France for eight hundred livres? Pardieu, I could get no farther than the Balize for that. Monsieur," he added meaningly, "you have an interest in this. There are two of us to go."
The amazing effrontery of this move made me gasp. Yet it was neither the Vicomtesse nor myself who answered him. We turned by common impulse to Antoinette, and she was changed. Her breath came quickly, her eyes flashed, her anger made her magnificent.
"It is not true," she cried, "you know it is not true."
He lifted his shoulders and smiled.
"You are my brother, and I am ashamed to acknowledge you. I was willing to give my last sou, to sell my belongings, to take from the poor to help you--until you defamed a good man. You cannot make me believe," she cried, unheeding the color that surged into her cheeks, "you cannot make me believe that he would use this money. You cannot make me believe it."
"Let us do him the credit of thinking that he means to repay it," said Auguste.
Antoinette"s eyes filled with tears,--tears of pride, of humiliation, ay, and of an anger of which I had not thought her capable. She was indeed a superb creature then, a personage I had not imagined. Gathering up her gown, she pa.s.sed Auguste and turned on him swiftly.
"If you were to bring that to him," she said, pointing to the bag in my hand, "he would not so much as touch it. To-morrow I shall go to the Ursulines, and I thank G.o.d I shall never see you again. I thank G.o.d I shall no longer be your sister. Give Monsieur the bundle," she said to the frightened Andre, who still stood by the hedge; "he may need food and clothes for his journey."
She left us. We stood watching her until her gown had disappeared amongst the foliage. Andre came forward and held out the bundle to Auguste, who took it mechanically. Then Madame La Vicomtesse motioned to Andre to leave, and gave me a glance, and it was part of the deep understanding of her I had that I took its meaning. I had my forebodings at what this last conversation with Auguste might bring forth, and I wished heartily that we were rid of him.
"Monsieur de St. Gre," I said, "I understood you to say that a ship is lying at the English Turn some five leagues below us, on which you are to take pa.s.sage at once."
He turned and glared at me, some devilish retort on his lips which he held back. Suddenly he became suave.
"I shall want two thousand livres Monsieur; it was the sum I asked for."
"It is not a question of what you asked for," I answered.
"Since when did Monsieur a.s.sume this intimate position in my family?" he said, glancing at the Vicomtesse.
"Monsieur de St. Gre," I replied with difficulty, "you will confine yourself to the matter in hand. You are in no situation to demand terms; you must take or leave what is offered you. Last night the man called Gignoux, who was of your party, was at the Governor"s house."
At this he started perceptibly.
"Ha, I thought he was a traitor," he cried. Strangely enough, he did not doubt my word in this.
"I am surprised that your Father"s house has not been searched this morning," I continued, astonished at my own moderation. "The sentiments of the Baron de Carondelet are no doubt known to you, and you are aware that your family or your friends cannot save you if you are arrested.
You may have this money on two conditions. The first is that you leave the province immediately. The second, that you reveal the whereabouts of Mr. Nicholas Temple."
"Monsieur is very kind," he replied, and added the taunt, "and well versed in the conduct of affairs of money."
"Does Monsieur de St. Gre accept?" I asked.
He threw out his hands with a gesture of resignation.
"Who am I to accept?" he said, "a fugitive, an outcast. And I should like to remind Monsieur that time pa.s.ses."
"It is a sensible observation," said I, meaning that it was the first.
His sudden docility made me suspicious. "What preparations have you made to go?"
"They are not elaborate, Monsieur, but they are complete. When I leave you I step into a pirogue which is tied to the river bank."
"Ah," I replied. "And Mr. Temple?"
Madame la Vicomtesse smiled, for Auguste was fairly caught. He had not the astuteness to be a rogue; oddly he had the sense to know that he could fool us no longer.
"Temple is at Lamarque"s," he answered sullenly.
I glanced questioningly at the Vicomtesse.
"Lamarque is an old pensioner of Monsieur de St. Gre"s," said she; "he has a house and an arpent of land not far below here."
"Exactly," said Auguste, "and if Mr. Ritchie believes that he will save money by keeping Mr. Temple in Louisiana instead of giving him this opportunity to escape, it is no concern of mine."
I reflected a moment on this, for it was another sensible remark.