I had the good fortune to find Monsieur Gardette in his counting-house.
He knew me; and our interview proceeded without embarrassment.
I shall not weary my reader with the conversation that passed between
us; nor yet detail all the circumstances that came to my knowledge
during that interview. Suffice it to give only those more immediately
connected with the thread of my narrative; and which of themselves were
sufficient to confirm my most fearful suspicion.
Some one like De Hauteroche--resembling him almost as a counterpart--had
assumed his name; had deceived Madame Dardonville as to the identity;
and by an influence, as yet only guessed at, had persuaded herself and
daughter to take the extraordinary step of accompanying him to Europe!
All this might easily have been effected. There was no improbability in
it, when it is remembered that it was some years since De Hauteroche had
been seen either by mother or daughter.
Another circumstance, which I now recollected, strengthened the
probability of their having gone on this journey. I remembered Madame
Dardonville having told me that she contemplated a journey to Europe, at
some not distant period--that she was desirous of visiting the home of
her youth, and renewing some ancient friendships. Moreover, she had
stated her intention of residing some time in Paris, in order that in
the world's fashionable metropolis, she might obtain for her daughter
the finishing touch of a polite education.
This was but an ambition common to most transatlantic _emigres_,
especially, as in the case of the widow of Dardonville, where pecuniary
considerations offered no obstacle. It was not improbable, therefore,
that she had carried, or was about to carry, this design into execution.
All that seemed singular was the hasty manner in which she had
undertaken the journey: for in her letters to New Orleans she had not
said a word of such intention. It was easy to conceive, however, that
the counterfeit De Hauteroche, acting with the influence which the real
De Hauteroche possessed, might, without much difficulty, have thus
brought about the event.
In reality, it was no longer a conjecture, but a _fait accompli_. He
had done it; and Madame Dardonville and her daughter, in the company of
an accomplished brigand, were now on their way to Europe. Of the truth
of this, the facts stated by the banker were sufficient proof Monsieur
Gardette was aware of my friendly relations with the family, and without
reserve he communicated all he knew. His knowledge was not much, and
related chiefly to matters of business. Of course, like other friends
of the family, he had heard the rumours that were afloat; and in his
business capacity he was made aware of the intended trip to Europe. A
circular letter for a large amount (10,000 dollars), made payable in
Paris, besides a small cheque for present purposes, had naturally made
him aware that some grand manoeuvre was going on, and that Paris was to
be the _but_ of a journey. Further than this, he had not been intrusted
with the confidence of the family. All else he had drawn from rumours,
which were current in the place. It would not be easy for a lady, so
conspicuous as the rich widow Dardonville, to keep even family secrets
concealed. Rumour could not be cheated of her tales; and that which was
generally believed in this instance, appeared to be the correct one.
The banker had heard of the projected marriage of Olympe; that young De
Hauteroche was to be the son-in-law; and, indeed, some of the peculiar
conditions of Monsieur Dardonville's will were not unknown to him.
Administrators will let secrets slip out, and bankers have peculiar
opportunities of becoming possessed of them.
Monsieur Gardette had heard other particulars--that young De Hauteroche
had been on a visit to the villa Dardonville for more than a week: of
this fact he was quite certain, and no doubt it accounted for him,
Monsieur Gardette, not receiving an answer to a communication he had
addressed to that gentleman in New Orleans.
I knew well enough to what communication he referred; and I soon
convinced him that it did not account for his not receiving the answer.
All these particulars Monsieur Gardette imparted to me, without any
suspicion of the real state of the case; and, when I told him that
Monsieur De Hauteroche had not been on a visit to the Villa Dardonville,
he firmly, but politely, contradicted the assertion!
"Pardon me, Monsieur! I know several who have seen him here, though not
in town, for, what was considered strange, he has never made his
appearance in our streets during the whole of his stay. It is not so
strange, either," proceeded the banker, with a bland smile. "At such a
crisis men care but little for general society. Perhaps," added the old
gentleman, with a knowing look, "he will go more abroad by-and-bye. A
lucky young man--a splendid fortune, sir!"
"An unhappy young man, Monsieur Gardette. A sad fortune, I fear--more
truly, a terrible misfortune!"
"Why, Monsieur? what mean you?"
"That the person who was on a visit to the Villa Dardonville was not
Monsieur De Hauteroche; but, as I have reason to believe, a noted
_sportsman_, or rather swindler, who is personating him. Monsieur De
Hauteroche has just arrived with me in the _Sultana_. We came direct
from New Orleans: out of which city Monsieur De Hauteroche has not been
for months past."
Had a bomb-shell dropped into the counting-house of Monsieur Gardette,
it could not have startled him more effectually. He leaped from his
chair, exclaiming:
"_Sacre Dieu_! Monsieur--you are jesting?"
"Alas! no. Look through the window, Monsieur Gardette--that is Luis De
Hauteroche."
The carriage was directly under the window; and Luis and Adele, seated
in it, were visible through the half-open Venetian.
"Certainly! it is he and his sister! I know them both--pretty children!
I knew the old Colonel well _Mon Dieu_! Monsieur--is what you tell me
true?"
"My friends will confirm it?"
"_Pardieu_! I fear it needs no confirmation. Ah! now I comprehend--no
answer--the thousand dollar bill--this accounts for it--his staying so
closely by the villa--friends not received there--the number of cheques
drawn!--_Mon Dieu_! Madame Dardonville is lost--we are all lost!"
"Let us hope not yet. It may still be possible to intercept this
villainous adventurer, and frustrate his scheme of infamy?"
"Possible, Monsieur!--no, no--impossible! I can think of no means--how
would you act?"
"Follow them, of course?"
"Ah! Monsieur, it is easy to say follow them. The boat left yesterday.
She is a fast boat; she is the mail-packet. There is no other for
Cincinatti--not one for a week."
"Are you certain of that?"
"Quite certain--here is the list."
The banker pointed to the printed table, that exhibited the days of
sailing of the different steam-boats. I had not patience to examine it.
His assertion was sufficient to satisfy me: for he had himself a stake
in the pursuit--enough to give him an interest in its success.
His information filled me with chagrin. All along I had been planning a
mode of procedure; and I could think of no other, than that of
immediately following Despard and his innocent victims. I had
calculated on their being detained at Cincinatti: for I had ascertained
that the _Missouri Belle_ ran no farther. It was not hopeless,
therefore, had there been another boat on that day, or the following, or
even the third day; but a week, that would never do. The travellers
would easily obtain passage beyond Cincinatti; the more easily as it was
now the season of high water. They would reach Pittsburg or Wheeling;
and from either of these cities the communication with the Atlantic
seaboard was constant and daily. In New York lay the Cunard steamer.
Her days of sailing were fixed and certain; but at that moment my mind
was in such a turmoil, that I could not calculate with any degree of
exactitude, our prospects of reaching her in time. That must be left to
a later period.
In spite of the confusion of the moment, an idea had come to my aid:
Cincinatti might be reached by horse.
I rapidly communicated this thought to the banker, who, to my
satisfaction, did not disapprove of it. It was a long ride, over three
hundred miles, the roads heavy; it would cost much horseflesh, suggested
the man of money: but the circumstances required that some desperate
plan must be had recourse to.
De Hauteroche and I could take horse, and ride day and night. Adele
could remain at Saint Luis. No matter at what cost we travelled, it was
the only course to be followed. No other offered a feasible hope.
It was a fortunate circumstance, that just before leaving New Orleans I
had had my exchequer replenished; and there would be no obstacle in
finding means. The worthy banker, moreover, threw out a hint that he
would not hang back; and, furthermore, offered to become the guardian of
Adele during our absence. I knew that this would be agreeable both to
De Hauteroche and his sister.
All these matters were arranged without communicating with our friends
outside. I felt certain that it was the course of action De Hauteroche
would take, and I was but preparing the way. It cost only a few minutes
to sketch out the programme.
Though suffering under the disappointment occasioned by Madame
Dardonville's unexpected absence, and tortured by the mystery of it, my
friends were not yet fully awake to its fearful import. It was no
longer possible to keep from them the afflicting news. In another
minute, and in the privacy of the banker's counting-house, they were
made acquainted with all. I need not describe the surprise, the grief,
the agony, of both--the furious paroxysm of passion into which Luis was
thrown.
The necessity of action, however, at length produced calmness. There
was no time to be wasted in idle emotions, and De Hauteroche, entering
at once into the design already sketched out, we speedily prepared
ourselves to carry it into execution. Adele offered no objection. She
saw the necessity of this painful parting--at once from brother and
lover--and she only prayed that we might succeed in the end.
Before the sun had passed his meridian, De Hauteroche and I, mounted on
the two toughest steeds the stables of Saint Louis could produce, rode
off for the ferry wharf. There, crossing the broad river, we entered
the territory of Illinois; and, without pausing a moment, we started
forward upon the road that conducts to the distant city of Cincinatti.
Story 2, Chapter XVII.