I cannot describe the effect produced upon me by this discovery. It was
like a shock of paralysis. It nailed me to the spot, and for some
moments I felt as rigid as a statue, and almost as senseless. Even had
the words uttered by Gayarre been loud enough to reach me, I should
scarce have heard them. My surprise for the moment had rendered me
deaf.
The antagonism I had conceived towards the speaker, so long as I
believed it to be the brute Larkin, was of a gentle character compared
with that which agitated me now. Larkin might be young and handsome; by
Scipio's account, the latter he certainly was _not_: but even so, I had
little fear of _his_ rivalry. I felt confident that I held the heart of
Aurore, and I knew that the overseer had no power over _her person_. He
was overseer of the field-hands, and other slaves of the plantation--
their master, with full licence of tongue and lash; but with all that, I
knew that he had no authority over Aurore. For reasons I could not
fathom, the treatment of the quadroon was, and had always been,
different from the other slaves of the plantation. It was not the
whiteness of her skin--her beauty neither--that had gained her this
distinction. These, it is true, often modify the hard lot of the female
slave, sometimes detailing upon her a still more cruel fate; but in the
case of Aurore, there was some very different reason for the kindness
shown her, though _I_ could only _guess_ at it. She had been tenderly
reared alongside her young mistress, had received almost as good an
education, and, in fact, was treated rather as a _sister_ than a
_slave_. Except from Mademoiselle, she received no commands. The
"nigger-driver" had nothing to do with her. I had therefore no dread of
any unlawful influence on his part.
Far different were my suspicions when I found the voice belonged to
Gayarre. _He_ had power not only over the slave, but the mistress as
well. Though suitor,--as I still believed him,--of Mademoiselle, he
could not be blind to the superior charms of Aurore. Hideous wretch as
I thought him, he might for all be sensible to love. The plainest may
have a passion for the fairest. The Beast loved Beauty.
The hour he had chosen for his visit, too! that was suspicious of
itself. Just as Mademoiselle had driven out! Had he been there before
she went out and been left by her in the house? Not likely. Scipio
know nothing of his being there, else he would have told me. The black
was aware of my antipathy to Gayarre, and that I did not desire to meet
him. He would certainly have told me.
"No doubt," thought I, "the visit is a stolen one--the lawyer has come
the back way from his own plantation, has watched till the carriage
drove off, and then skulked in for the very purpose of finding the
quadroon alone!"
All this flashed upon my mind with the force of conviction, I no longer
doubted that his presence there was the result of design, and not a mere
accident. He was _after_ Aurore. My thoughts took this homely shape.
When the first shock of my surprise had passed away, my senses returned,
fuller and more vigorous than ever. My nerves seemed freshly strung,
and my ears new set. I placed them as close to the open window as
prudence would allow, and listened. It was not _honourable_, I own, but
in dealing with this wretch I seemed to lose all sense of honour. By
the peculiar circumstances of that moment I was tempted from the strict
path, but it was the "eavesdropping" of a jealous lover, and I cry you
mercy for the act.
I listened. With an effort I stifled the feverish throbbings of my
heart, and listened.
And I heard every word that from that moment was said. The voices had
become louder, or rather the speakers had approached nearer. They were
but a few feet from the window! Gayarre was speaking.
"And does this young fellow dare to make love to your mistress?"
"Monsieur Dominique, how should I know? I am sure I never saw aught of
the kind. He is very modest, and so Mademoiselle thinks him. I never
knew him to speak one word of love,--not he."