"AURORE."
I was for the moment alone, Scipio having betaken himself to the kitchen
in search of the tea, toast, and chicken "fixings." I lay reflecting
upon the interview just ended, and especially upon the conversation
between the doctor and Gayarre, in which had occurred several points
that suggested singular ideas. The conduct of the doctor was natural
enough, indeed betokened the true gentleman; but for the other there was
a sinister design--I could not doubt it.
Why the desire--an anxiety, in fact--to have me removed to the hotel?
Evidently there was some strong motive, since he proposed to pay the
expenses; for from my slight knowledge of the man I knew him to be the
very opposite to generous!
"What can be his motive for my removal?" I asked myself.
"Ha! I have it--I have the explanation! I see through his designs
clearly! This fox, this cunning _avocat_, this guardian, is no doubt in
love with his own ward! She is young, rich, beautiful, a belle, and he
old, ugly, mean, and contemptible; but what of that? He does not think
himself either one or the other; and she--bah!--he may even hope: far
less reasonable hopes have been crowned with success. He knows the
world; he is a lawyer; he knows at least her world. He is her
solicitor; holds her affairs entirely in his hands; he is guardian,
executor, agent--all; has perfect and complete control. With such
advantages, what can he not effect? All that he may desire--her
marriage, or her ruin. Poor lady! I pity her!"
Strange to say, it was only _pity_. That it was not another feeling was
a mystery I could not comprehend.
The entrance of Scipio interrupted my reflections. A young girl
assisted him with the plates and dishes. This was "Chloe," his
daughter, a child of thirteen, or thereabouts, but not black like the
father! She was a "yellow girl," with rather handsome features. Scipio
explained this. The mother of his "leettle Chlo," as he called her, was
a mulatta, and "`Chlo' hab taken arter de ole 'oman. Hya! hya!"
The tone of Scipio's laugh showed that he was more than satisfied--
proud, in fact--of being the father of so light-skinned and pretty a
little creature as Chloe!
Chloe, like all her kind, was brimful of curiosity, and in rolling about
the whites of her eyes to get a peep at the buckra stranger who had
saved her mistress' life, she came near breaking cups, plates, and
dishes; for which negligence Scipio would have boxed her ears, but for
my intercession. The odd expressions and gestures, the novel behaviour
of both father and daughter, the peculiarity of this slave-life,
interested me.
I had a keen appetite, notwithstanding my weakness. I had eaten nothing
on the boat; in the excitement of the race, supper had been forgotten by
most of the passengers, myself among the number. Scipio's preparations
now put my palate in tune, and I did ample justice to the skill of
Chloe's mother, who, as Scipio informed me, was "de boss in de kitchen."
The tea strengthened me; the chicken, delicately fricasseed and
garnished upon rice, seemed to refill my veins with fresh blood. With
the exception of the slight pain of my wound, I already felt quite
restored.
My attendants removed the breakfast things, and after a while Scipio
returned to remain in the room with me, for such were his orders.
"And now, Scipio," I said, as soon as we were alone, "tell me of
Aurore!"
"'Rore, mass'r!"
"Yes--Who is Aurore?"
"Poor slave, mass'r; jes like Ole Zip heamseff."
The vague interest I had begun to feel in "Aurore" vanished at once.
"A slave!" repeated I, involuntarily, and in a tone of disappointment.
"She Missa 'Genie's maid," continued Scipio; "dress missa's hair--wait
on her--sit wi' her--read to her--do ebbery ting--"
"Read to her! what!--a slave?"
My interest in Aurore began to return.
"Ye, mass'r--daat do 'Rore. But I 'splain to you. Ole Mass'r 'Sancon
berry good to de coloured people--teach many ob um read de
books--'specially 'Rore. 'Rore he 'struckt read, write, many, many
tings, and young Missa 'Genie she teach her de music. 'Rore she
'complish gal--berry 'complish gal. Know many ting; jes like de white
folks. Plays on de peany--plays on de guitar--guitar jes like banjo, an
Ole Zip play on daat heamseff--he do. Wugh!"
"And withal, Aurore is a poor slave just like the rest of you, Scipio?"
"Oh! no, mass'r; she be berry different from de rest. She lib different
life from de other nigga--she no hard work--she berry vallyble--she
fetch two thousand dollar!"
"Fetch two thousand dollars!"
"Ye, mass'r, ebbery cent--ebbery cent ob daat."
"How know you?"
"'Case daat much war bid for her. Mass'r Marigny want buy 'Rore, an
Mass'r Crozat, and de American Colonel on de oder side ob ribber--dey
all bid two thousand dollar--ole mass'r he only larf at um, and say he
won't sell de gal for no money."
"This was in old master's time?"
"Ye--ye--but one bid since--one boss ob ribber-boat--he say he want
'Rore for de lady cabin. He talk rough to her. Missa she angry--tell
'im go. Mass'r Toney he angry, tell 'im go; and de boat captain he go
angry like de rest. Hya! hya! hya!"
"And why should Aurore command such a price?"
"Oh! she berry good gal--berry good gal--but--"