"Miss Sally, honey, doan you know Lindy? Gawd"ll let you git well, Miss Sally, Gawd"ll let you git well, honey, ter see Ma.r.s.e Nick--ter see--Ma.r.s.e--Nick--"
The words died on Lindy"s lips, the ravings of the frenzied woman ceased. The yellowed hands fell limply to the sheet, the shrunken form stiffened. The eyes of the mother looked upon the son, and in them at first was the terror of one who sees the infinite. Then they softened until they became again the only feature that was left of Sarah Temple.
Now, as she looked at him who was her pride, her honor, for one sight of whom she had prayed,--ay, and even blasphemed,--her eyes were all tenderness. Then she spoke.
"Harry," she said softly, "be good to me, dear. You are all I have now."
She spoke of Harry Riddle!
But the long years of penance had not been in vain. Nick had forgiven her. We saw him kneeling at the bedside, we saw him with her hand in his, and Helene was drawing me gently out of the room and closing the door behind her. She did not look at me, nor I at her.
We stood for a moment close together, and suddenly the cries in the street brought us back from the drama in the low-ceiled, reeking room we had left.
"Ici! Ici! Voici le cheval!"
There was a loud rapping at the outer door, and a voice demanding admittance in Spanish in the name of his Excellency the Governor.
"Open it," said Helene. There was neither excitement in her voice, nor yet resignation. In those two words was told the philosophy of her life.
I opened the door. There, on the step, was an officer, perspiring, uniformed and plumed, and behind him a crowd of eager faces, white and black, that seemed to fill the street. He took a step into the room, his hand on the hilt of his sword, and poured out at me a torrent of Spanish of which I understood nothing. All at once his eye fell upon Helene, who was standing behind me, and he stopped in the middle of his speech and pulled off his hat and bowed profoundly.
"Madame la Vicomtesse!" he stammered. I was no little surprised that she should be so well known.
"You will please to speak French, Monsieur," she said; "this gentleman does not understand Spanish. What is it you desire?"
"A thousand pardons, Madame la Vicomtesse," he said. "I am the Alcalde de Barrio, and a wild Americano has pa.s.sed the sentry at St. Charles"s gate without heeding his Excellency"s authority and command. I saw the man with my own eyes. I should know him again in a hundred. We have traced him here to this house, Madame la Vicomtesse. Behold the horse which he rode!" The Alcalde turned and pointed at the beast. "Behold the horse which he rode, Madame la Vicomtesse. The animal will die."
"Probably," answered the Vicomtesse, in an even tone.
"But the man," cried the Alcalde, "the man is here, Madame la Vicomtesse, here, in this house!"
"Yes," she said, "he is here."
"Sancta Maria! Madame," he exclaimed, "I--I who speak to you have come to get him. He has defied his Excellency"s commands. Where is he?"
"He is in that room," said the Vicomtesse, pointing at the bedroom door.
The Alcalde took a step forward. She stopped him by a quick gesture.
"He is in that room with his mother," she said, "and his mother has the yellow fever. Come, we will go to him." And she put her hand upon the door.
"Yellow fever!" cried the Alcalde, and his voice was thick with terror.
There was a moment"s silence as he stood rooted to the floor. I did not wonder then, but I have since thought it remarkable that the words spoken low by both of them should have been caught up on the banquette and pa.s.sed into the street. Impa.s.sive, I heard it echoed from a score of throats, I saw men and women stampeding like frightened sheep, I heard their footfalls and their cries as they ran. A tawdry constable, who held with a trembling hand the bridle of the tired horse, alone remained.
"Yellow fever!" the Alcalde repeated
The Vicomtesse inclined her head.
He was silent again for a while, uncertain, and then, without comprehending, I saw the man"s eyes grow smaller and a smile play about his mouth. He looked at the Vicomtesse with a new admiration to which she paid no heed.
"I am sorry, Madame la Vicomtesse," he began, "but--"
"But you do not believe that I speak the truth," she replied quietly.
He winced.
"Will you follow me?" she said, turning again.
He had started, plainly in an agony of fear, when a sound came from beyond the wall that brought a cry to his lips.
Her manner changed to one of stinging scorn.
"You are a coward," she said. "I will bring the gentleman to you if he can be got to leave the bedside."
"No," said the Alcalde, "no. I--I will go to him, Madame la Vicomtesse."
But she did not open the door.
"Listen," she said in a tone of authority, "I myself have been to his Excellency to-day concerning this gentleman--"
"You, Madame la Vicomtesse?"
"I will open the door," she continued, impatient at the interruption, "and you will see him. Then I shall write a letter which you will take to the Governor. The gentleman will not try to escape, for his mother is dying. Besides, he could not get out of the city. You may leave your constable where he is, or the man may come in and stand at this door in sight of the gentleman while you are gone--if he pleases."
"And then?" said the Alcalde.
"It is my belief that his Excellency will allow the gentleman to remain here, and that you will be relieved from the necessity of running any further risk."
As she spoke she opened the door, softly. The room was still now, still as death, and the Alcalde went forward on tiptoe. I saw him peering in, I saw him backing away again like a man in mortal fear.
"Yes, it is he--it is the man," he stammered. He put his hand to his brow.
The Vicomtesse closed the door, and without a glance at him went quickly to the table and began to write. She had no thought of consulting the man again, of asking his permission. Although she wrote rapidly, five minutes must have gone by before the note was finished and folded and sealed. She held it out to him.
"Take this to his Excellency," she said, "and bring me his answer." The Alcalde bowed, murmured her t.i.tle, and went lamely out of the house. He was plainly in an agony of uncertainty as to his duty, but he glanced at the Vicomtesse--and went, flipping the note nervously with his finger nail. He paused for a few low-spoken words with the tawdry constable, who sat down on the banquette after his chief had gone, still clinging to the bridle. The Vicomtesse went to the doorway, looked at him, and closed the battened doors. The constable did not protest. The day was fading without, and the room was almost in darkness as she crossed over to the little mantel and stood with her head laid upon her arm.
I did not disturb her. The minutes pa.s.sed, the light waned until I could see her no longer, and yet I knew that she had not moved. The strange sympathy between us kept me silent until I heard her voice calling my name.
"Yes," I answered.
"The candle!"
I drew out my tinder-box and lighted the wick. She had turned, and was facing me even as she had faced me the night before. The night before!
The greatest part of my life seemed to have pa.s.sed since then. I remember wondering that she did not look tired. Her face was sad, her voice was sad, and it had an ineffable, sweet quality at such times that was all its own.
"The Alcalde should be coming back," she said.
"Yes," I answered.