Lightly clad as I was, the cold dews of the night would have prevented
me from sleeping; but I needed not that to keep me awake. I could not
have slept upon a couch of eider.
D'Hauteville had generously offered me his cloak, which I declined. He,
too, was clad in cottonade and linen--though that was not the reason for
my declining his offer. Even had I been suffering, I could not have
accepted it. I began to fear him!
Aurore was soon asleep. The lightning showed me that her eyes were
closed, and I could tell by her soft regular breathing that she slept.
This, too, annoyed me!
I watched for each new gleam that I might look upon her. Each time as
the quivering light illumined her lovely features, I gazed upon them
with mingled feelings of passion and pain. Oh! could there be falsehood
under that fair face? Could sin exist in that noble soul? After all
was I _not_ beloved?
Even so, there was no withdrawing now--no going back from my purpose.
The race in which I had embarked must be run to the end--even at the
sacrifice both of heart and life. I thought only of the purpose that
had brought us there.
As my mind became calmer, I again reflected on the means of carrying it
out. As soon as day should break, I would go in search of the horses--
track them, if possible, to where they had strayed--recover them, and
then remain concealed in the woods until the return of another night.
Should we not recover the horses, what then?
For a long time, I could not think of what was best to be done in such a
contingency.
At length an idea suggested itself--a plan so feasible that I could not
help communicating it to D'Hauteville, who like myself was awake. The
plan was simple enough, and I only wondered I had not thought of it
sooner. It was that he (D'Hauteville) should proceed to Bringiers,
procure other horses or a carriage there, and at an early hour of the
following night meet us on the Levee Road.
What could be better than this? There would be no difficulty in his
obtaining the horses at Bringiers--the carriage more likely.
D'Hauteville was not known--at least no one would suspect his having any
relations with me. I was satisfied that the disappearance of the
quadroon would be at once attributed to me. Gayarre himself would know
that; and therefore I alone would be suspected and sought after.
D'Hauteville agreed with me that this would be the very plan to proceed
upon, in case our horses could not be found; and having settled the
details, we awaited with less apprehension for the approach of day.
Day broke at length. The grey light slowly struggled through the
shadowy tree-tops, until it became clear enough to enable us to renew
the search.
Aurore remained upon the ground; while D'Hauteville and I, taking
different directions set out after the horses.
D'Hauteville went farther into the woods, while I took the opposite
route.
I soon arrived at the zigzag fence bounding the fields of Gayarre; for
we were still upon the very borders of his plantation. On reaching
this, I turned along its edge, and kept on for the point where the
bye-road entered the woods. It was by this we had come in on the
previous night, and I thought it probable the horses might have taken it
into their heads to stray back the same way.
I was right in my conjecture. As soon as I entered the embouchure of
the road, I espied the hoof-tracks of both animals going out towards the
river. I saw also those we had made on the previous night coming in. I
compared them. The tracks leading both ways were made by the same
horses. One had a broken shoe, which enabled me at a glance to tell
they were the same. I noted another "sign" upon the trail. I noted
that our horses in passing out dragged their bridles, with branches
adhering to them. This confirmed the original supposition, that they
had broken loose.
It was now a question of how far they had gone. Should I follow and
endeavour to overtake them? It was now bright daylight, and the risk
would be great. Long before this, Gayarre and his friends would be up
and on the alert. No doubt parties were already traversing the Levee
Road as well as the bye-paths among the plantations. At every step I
might expect to meet either a scout or a pursuer.
The tracks of the horses showed they had been travelling rapidly and
straight onward. They had not stopped to browse. Likely they had gone
direct to the Levee Road, and turned back to the city. They were livery
horses, and no doubt knew the road well. Besides, they were of the
Mexican breed--"mustangs." With these lively animals the trick of
returning over a day's journey without their riders is not uncommon.
To attempt to overtake them seemed hopeless as well as perilous, and I
at once gave up the idea and turned back into the woods. As I
approached the pawpaw thicket, I walked with lighter tread. I am
ashamed to tell the reason. Foul thoughts were in my heart.
The murmur of voices fell upon my ear.
"By Heaven! D'Hauteville has again got back before me!"
I struggled for some moments with my honour. It gave way; and I made my
further approach among the pawpaws with the silence of a thief.
"D'Hauteville and she in close and friendly converse! They stand
fronting each other. Their faces almost meet--their attitudes betoken a
mutual interest. They talk in an earnest tone--in the low murmuring of
lovers! O God!"
At this moment the scene on the wharf-boat flashed on my recollection.
I remembered the youth wore a cloak, and that he was of low stature. It
was he who was standing before me! That puzzle was explained. I was
but a waif--a foil--a thing for a coquette to play with!
There stood the _true_ lover of Aurore!
I stopped like one stricken. The sharp aching of my heart, oh! I may
never describe. It felt as if a poisoned arrow had pierced to its very
core, and there remained fixed and rankling. I felt faint and sick. I
could have fallen to the ground.
She has taken something from her bosom. She is handing it to him! A
love-token--a _gage d'amour_!
No. I am in error. It is the parchment--the paper taken from the desk
of the avocat. What does it mean? What mystery is this? Oh! I shall
demand a full explanation from both of you. I shall--patience, heart!--
patience!
D'Hauteville has taken the papers, and hidden them under his cloak. He
turns away. His face is now towards me. His eyes are upon me. I am
seen!
"Ho! Monsieur?" he inquired, advancing to meet me. "What success? You
have seen nothing of the horses!"