"But how came you to name Aurore?"
"Aurore!" I replied. "Oh! you think it strange that I should know her
name? Thanks to Scipio's faithful portraiture, I knew at the first
glance that this was Aurore."
I pointed to the quadroon, who had retired a pace or two, and stood
silent and evidently astonished.
"Oh! Scipio has been speaking of her?"
"Yes, ma'amselle. He and I have had a busy morning of it. I have drawn
largely on Scipio's knowledge of plantation affairs. I am already
acquainted with Aunt Chloe, and little Chloe, and a whole host of your
people. These things interest me who am strange to your Louisiana
life."
"Monsieur," replied the lady, seemingly satisfied with my explanation,
"I am glad you are so well. The doctor has given me the assurance you
will soon recover. Noble stranger! I have heard how you received your
wound. For me it was--in my defence. Oh! how shall I ever repay you?--
how thank you for my life?"
"No thanks, ma'amselle, are necessary. It was the fulfilment of a
simple duty on my part. I ran no great risk in saving you."
"No risk, monsieur! Every risk--from the knife of an assassin--from the
waves. No risk! But, monsieur, I can assure you my gratitude shall be
in proportion to your generous gallantry. My heart tells me so;--alas,
poor heart! it is filled at once with gratitude and grief."
"Yes, ma'amselle, I understand you have much to lament, in the loss of a
faithful servant."
"Faithful servant, monsieur, say, rather, friend. Faithful, indeed!
Since my poor father's death, he has been my father. All my cares were
his; all my affairs in his hands. I knew not trouble. But now, alas!
I know not what is before me."