On a tranquil morning in the fair month of May--fair in Jamaica, as
elsewhere on the earth--a large bell ringing in the great hall of Mount
Welcome announced the hour of breakfast.
As yet there were no guests around the table, nor in the hall--only the
black and coloured domestics, who, to the number of half-a-dozen, had
just come up from the kitchen with trays and dishes containing the
viands that were to compose the meal.
Though but two chairs were placed by the table--and the disposition of
the plates, knives, and forks indicated that it had been set for only
that number of guests--the profusion of dishes, thickly covering the
snow-white damask cloth, might have led to the belief that a large party
was expected.
It was emphatically a _dejeuner a la fourchette_. There were cutlets
plain, and with _sauce piquante_, _cavished_ fish, _entrees_ of devilled
fowl and duck, broiled salmon, and the like. These _hors d'oeuvres_
were placed around the table, while a cold ham on one dish, and a tongue
on another, occupied the centre.
Of "bread kind" there were mealy yams--some mashed with milk and butter,
and dished up in shapes--roast plantains, hot rolls, toast, cassada
cakes, and sweet potatoes.
But that a splendid silver tea-service, and a large glittering urn were
conspicuous, the spread might have been mistaken for a dinner, rather
than the matutinal meal. The hour--nine o'clock a.m.--also precluded
the idea of its being dinner.
Whoever were to be the guests at this table, it was intended they should
fair sumptuously. So did they every day of their lives; for there was
nothing occasional in that morning's meal. Both the style and the
profuseness were of diurnal occurrence--the mode of Jamaica.
Soon after the tones of the bell had ceased to vibrate through the hall,
they for whom the summons was intended made their appearance--entering
from opposite sides, not together, but one coming in a little before the
other.
The first was a gentleman of somewhat over middle age, of a hale
complexion, and fall, portly form.
He was dressed in a suit of nankeens--jacket and trousers, both of ample
make--the former open in front, and displaying a shirt bosom of finest
white linen, the broad plaits of which were uncovered by any vest. A
wide turn-down collar was folded back, exhibiting a full development of
throat--which, with the broad jaws of ruddy hue, appeared clean and
freshly shaven.
From a fob in the waistband of his trousers hung a massive gold chain,
with a bunch of seals and watch-keys at one end; while at the other was
an immense chronometer watch of the old-fashioned "guinea gold," with
white dial, upon which the black figures were conspicuously painted.
The watch itself could be seen; as, on entering, the wearer had drawn it
out of its fob with a view of ascertaining whether his servants were
punctual to the minute: for the gentleman in question was a very
martinet in such matters.
Loftus Vaughan, Esquire, proprietor of Mount Welcome,--Justice of the
Peace, and _Custos Rotulorum_,--was the man thus characterised.
After casting a scrutinising glance at the display of viands, and
apparently satisfied with what he saw, the master of Mount Welcome
seated himself before the table, his face beaming with a smile of
pleasant anticipation.
He had scarce taken his seat when a fair apparition appeared entering
from the further end of the hall--a young virgin-like creature, looking
as fresh and roseate as the first rays of the Aurora.
She was habited in a dress, or rather an undress, of purest white: a
morning wrapper of fine lawn, that, fitting closely behind, displayed
the waving _contour_ of her back. In front, the dress fell in loose
folds--scarce, however, concealing the full, bold outlines of her bosom;
and then draped gracefully downward, so low as to leave nothing visible
but the tips of a pair of tiny satin slippers, alternately showing
themselves like white mice as the young girl glided over the polished
surface of the floor.
Her throat, full and finely rounded, was encircled with a string of
amber beads; and a crimson blossom--the beautiful bell of the
Quamoclit--glittered amidst the ample folds of her hair. This, of a
rich chestnut colour, was parted on her forehead, and carried in a
curving sweep over cheeks that rivalled the radiance of the flower.
It would have required an experienced eye--one well acquainted with the
physiological characteristics of race--to have told that that young girl
was not of the purest Caucasian blood. And yet the slight undulation of
the hair; a rotund rather than an oval face; eyes of darkest umber, with
a light gleaming perpetually in the pupils; a singular picturelike
expression in the colouring of the cheeks--were all characteristics,
that proclaimed the presence of the _sang-melee_.
Slight indeed was the _taint_; and it seems like profanation to employ
the phrase, when speaking of a creature so beautifully fair--for
beautifully fair was the daughter of Loftus Vaughan. She was his only
daughter--the only member of his family: for the proprietor of Mount
Welcome was a widower.
On entering the hall, the young girl did not proceed directly to seat
herself; but, gliding behind the chair occupied by her father, she flung
her arms around his neck, and imprinted a kiss upon his forehead.
It was her usual matutinal salute; and proved that, on that morning they
had met for the first time.
Not that it was the first appearance of either: for both had been much
earlier abroad--up with the sun, indeed, as is the universal custom in
Jamaica.
Mr Vaughan had entered the hall from the front door, and the
broad-brimmed Leghorn hat, and cane carried in his hand, told that he
had been out for a walk--perhaps to inspect the labour going on at the
"works," or ascertain the progress made in the cultivation of his
extensive cane-fields.
His daughter, on the contrary, might have been seen entering the house
some half-hour before, in riding costume--hat, habit, and whip--proving
that her morning exercise had been taken on horseback.
After saluting her father as described, the young girl took her seat in
front of the coffee urn, and commenced performing the duties of the
table.
In this she was assisted by a girl apparently of her own age, but of
widely-different appearance. Her waiting-maid it was, who, having
entered at the same time, had taken her station behind the chair of her
mistress.
There was something strikingly peculiar in the aspect of this
personage--as well in her figure as in the colour of her skin. She was
of that slender classic shape which we find in antique sculptures--like
the forms of the Hindoo women known in England as "ayahs" and differing
altogether from the negro outline. Her complexion, too, was not that of
a negress--still less of a mulatta or quadroon. It was an admixture of
black and red, resulting in a chestnut or mahogany colour; which, with
the deep damask tincture upon her cheeks, produced an impression not
unpleasing.
Nor were the features at all of a negro type. On the contrary, far
removed from it. The lips were thin, the face oval, and the nose of an
aquiline shape--such features as may be traced on Egyptian sculptured
stones, or may be seen in living forms in the lands of the Arab.
Her hair was not woolly, though it differed altogether from the hair of
a European. It was straight, and jet-black, yet scarcely reaching to
her shoulders. Not that it had been shortened by the scissors: for it
appeared to be at its fullest growth; and, hanging, as it did, loosely
over her ears, it imparted a youthful appearance to the brown-skinned
damsel.
The girl was far from ill-looking; and, to an eye accustomed to her
"style," she may have appeared even handsome. Her elegant shape,
exposed by the extreme scantiness of her costume--a sleeveless robe,
with a Madras kerchief worn _a la toque_ upon her head--her graceful
attitudes, which seemed natural to her, either when in motion or
standing poised behind the chair of her mistress; the quick glance of
her fine, fiery eyes; and the pearl-like whiteness of her teeth; all
contributed to make up a picture that was far from commonplace.
This young girl was a slave--the slave _Yola_.
Volume One, Chapter IV.