It was ten o'clock on the following day, when the _Sultana_ snorting
under a full head of steam, brought us within sight of the "Mound City,"
so called from certain Indian tumuli, that here form a conspicuous
feature on the banks of the mighty river.
Long before reaching our destination, my travelling companions and I had
ascended to the hurricane-deck; and we were straining our eyes to catch
sight, not of the spires and cupolas that overtop the town, but of a
building that had for all of us a far greater interest--a white cottage
or villa, with green Venetians--the villa Dardonville. As it stood
conspicuously near the western bank of the river, and we knew that it
was visible from the level of the water, we expected soon to be
gratified with a view of it, especially, as we were now nearly opposite
to it. A skirting of oak woods appeared alone to conceal it; and, as
the boat forged ahead, we gazed eagerly into the vista that was
gradually opening beyond them.
Slowly and gently, as if by the passage of a panoramic picture, the
villa was disclosed to our view; and my companions hailed its appearance
with exclamations of delight. Visions of a happy meeting with old dear
friends, of sumptuous hospitality, of free rural enjoyments, of many
pleasurable incidents, were before the minds of both; and as for Luis,
the sight of that pretty homestead could not fail to call up emotions of
a still more thrilling kind.
Though I had myself seen the villa before, and from the water, it was a
new sight to both my friends. It was, in fact, a new house, and had
been built by Dardonville on retiring from business. On Luis's last
visit to Saint Louis, the family was residing in the city. It was
shortly after, that they had removed to the charming abode on the bluff.
My friends were enthusiastic in their praises of the pretty mansion.
They admired its style of architecture, its smooth sloping lawn, its
shrubberies; in short, both were in the mood for admiring.
As the boat arrived directly in front of it, and the house came fully
into view, it did not strike me as presenting so hospitable an
appearance: in fact, an observer, knowing nothing of its inmates, would
have given it a character altogether different. The front door was shut
close; and so, too, were the Venetian shutters, every one of them. Even
the gate of the verandah railings appeared to be latched and locked.
There was no life, human or animal, stirring about the place; not a
creature to be seen. There was no smoke issuing from the chimneys, not
a film. The place had the appearance of being uninhabited, deserted!
My companions could not help noticing this, though without having any
suspicion that the house might be empty.
Why are the windows closed? and on such a beautiful morning?
I could only make answer to this pertinent query, by observing that the
house faced eastward; and the sun might be too strong at that hour.
"_Parbleu_!" exclaimed Adele, "I feel cold enough; you see, I shiver?
For my part, I should open every blind, and admit all the sun I could
get. I shall do so, as soon as we get there."
"But la!" continued she, after a pause, "surely they expect us? and by
the _Sultana_, too? You would think some one would be on the look out?
They must certainly hear the blowing of our grand boat? And yet no one
appears--not even a face at the windows! Come, M'amselle Olympe, this
is barely kind of you."
Adele endeavoured to disfigure her beautiful countenance with a slight
grimace, expressive of chagrin; but the laugh that followed showed how
little she was in earnest.
"It may be," interposed Luis, "they are not astir yet: it is early."
"Early, _mon frere_? it is ten o'clock!"
"True, it is that hour," assented Luis, after consulting his watch.
"Besides, where is old Pluto? where Calypse and Chloe? Some of them
should be abroad. At least, one of them might have been playing
sentinel, I think?"
These were the familiar names of Madame Dardonville's domestics, all
known to myself.
"Ah!" exclaimed Adele, a new thought suggesting itself, "I fancy I can
explain. Madame and Olympe are gone up to town, that's it. Perhaps she
knows that the boat is near: she may have heard it from below, and has
driven up to the landing to meet us? Of course Pluto would be with her,
and the others are busy in the house. That explains all. So we shall
meet her at the landing. Well, that will be charming!"
I gave my assent to this explanation, though far from believing it to be
the true one. The deserted appearance of the house was a new element of
anxiety to me; and, combined with what I already knew, almost confirmed
the terrible suspicion that had shaped itself in my imagination. Though
straggling to conceal my real thoughts, it was with difficulty I
succeeded in doing so. More than once my companions regarded me with
inquiring looks: as though they observed a singularity in my bearing and
behaviour.
With a sense of the keenest anxiety, I looked forward to the moment of
our arrival: I did not indulge in much hope that Adele's conjecture
would prove correct.
Alas! it did not. As the boat was warped in, broadside to the wharf, I
scanned the crowd with keen glances: not a group--scarcely an
individual--escaped my observation. There were no ladies there--no
Madame Dardonville, no Olympe! There were carriages, but not theirs.
No private carriages were to be seen, only hackneys waiting for a fare
from the boat.
I looked at Adele. There was a slight curl upon her pretty lip--this
time really expressive of disappointment and chagrin.
"Perhaps they are up in the town?" I suggested, gently.
"Nay, Monsieur, they should be _here_. It is cruel of Olympe."
"The Madame may have business?"
"_N'importe pas_."
I saw by this that Adele was really offended. Perhaps she had been
hearing too many encomiums upon Olympe's beauty. It is not _woman_ to
like this; and least to be expected from a woman who is herself a
beauty.
Nothing remained but to engage a hackney. This was the work of a
moment; and, as our united luggage was not large, we were soon passing
through the streets of Saint Louis. The Jehu had received his
directions to drive to the Villa Dardonville. He knew the house, and we
were soon carried beyond the suburbs in that direction.
We met people on the way. The faces of one or two of them were known to
me. As the carriage was an open phaeton, we could all be seen. I
observed the eyes of these people turn towards us with a strange
expression: a look, as I thought, of astonishment! Luis appeared more
especially to be the object of interest. As we were driving rapidly,
however, no one spoke. If they had anything to say, there was no
opportunity for them to say it. I do not know whether either of my
companions observed this, nor might I have done so; but for the
foreknowledge of which I was possessed.
We at length reached our destination. The phaeton being driven to the
front, halted opposite the verandah. No one rushed out to greet us! no
one opened the door!
"_C'est drole_!" murmured Adele.
Luis stepped out of the carriage and knocked. A heavy foot was heard
inside: some one coming along the hallway? There was heard the turning
of a bolt, and then the rattle of a chain. Strange! the door has been
locked!
It was opened at length, though slowly, and with some degree of caution;
and then a round black face was presented to our view. It was the face
of Pluto.
Story 2, Chapter XV.