"Yes," said I, "that's precisely what I did." And we dropped the subject.
But in the night I felt her fingers softly touch my shoulder.
"Warm night," I remarked.
"Richard," said she, "it will be time enough to be troubled about your
taxidermist when he's given you cause."
"I'm not troubled; I'm simply interested. I'll go down to-morrow and see
him." A little later it rained, very softly, and straight down, so that
there was no need to shut the windows, and I slept like an infant until
the room was full of sunshine.
All the next day and evening, summer though it was and the levee and sugar
sheds and cotton-yards virtually empty, I was kept by unexpected business
and could not go near St. Peter Street. Both my partners were away on
their vacations. But on the third afternoon our office regained its summer
quiet and I was driving my pen through the last matter that prevented my
going where I pleased, when I was disturbed by the announcement of a
visitor. I pushed my writing on to a finish though he stood just at my
back. Then I turned to bid him talk fast as my time was limited, when who
should it be but Manouvrier. I took him into my private office, gave him a
chair and said:
"I was just coming to see you."
"You had somet'in' to git stoff'?"
"No; I--Oh, I didn't know but you might like to see me."
"Yass?--Well--yass. I wish you come yesterday."
"Indeed? Why so; to protect you from reporters and beggars?"
"Naw; my wife she keep off all doze Peter an' John. Naw; one man bring me
one wile cat to stoff. Ah! a _so_ fine as I never see! Beautiful like da
dev'l! Since two day' an' night' I can't make out if I want to fix dat
wile cat stan'in' up aw sittin' down!"
"Did you decide at last?"
"Yass, I dis-ide. How you think I diside?"
"Ah! you're too hard for me. But one thing I know."
"Yass? What you know?"
"That you will never do so much to anything as to leave my imagination
nothing to do. You will always give my imagination strong play and never a
bit of hard work."
"Come! Come and see!"