CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
AN OLD MAN IN NEW DAYS.
Before the sun had touched the roofs of the town of Cap--while thestreets lay cool and grey under the heights, which glowed in the flamesof sunrise--most of the inhabitants were up and stirring. EuphrosyneRevel was at her grandfather's chamber-door; first listening for hiscall, and then softly looking in, to see whether he could still besleeping. The door opened and shut by a spring, so that the old man didnot hear the little girl as she entered, though his sleep was not sound.As Euphrosyne saw how restless he was, and heard him mutter, shethought she would rouse him: but she stayed her hand, as she rememberedthat he might have slept ill, and might still settle for another quietdoze, if left undisturbed. With a gentle hand she opened one of thejalousies, to let in more air; and she chose one which was shaded by atree outside, that no glare of light might enter with the breeze.
What she saw from this window drew her irresistibly into the balcony.It was a tree belonging to the convent which waved before the window;and below lay the convent garden, fresh with the dews of the night.There stretched the green walks, so glittering with diamond-drops andwith the gossamer as to show that no step had passed over them sincedawn. There lay the parterres--one crowded with geraniums of all hues;another with proud lilies, white, orange, and purple; and another with aflowering pomegranate in the centre, while the gigantic white and blueconvolvulus coveted the soil all around, mixing with the bright greenleaves and crimson blossoms of the hibiscus. No one seemed to beabroad, to enjoy the garden during this the freshest hour of the day; noone but the old black gardener, Raphael, whose cracked voice might beheard at intervals from the depths of the shrubbery in the oppositecorner, singing snatches of the hymns which the sisters sung in thechapel. When his hoarse music ceased, the occasional snap of a bough,and movements among the bushes, told that the old man was still there,busy at his work.
Euphrosyne wished that he would come out, within sight of the beckon ofher hand. She dared not call, for fear of wakening her grandfather: butshe very much wanted a flowering orange branch. A gay littlehumming-bird was sitting and hovering near her; and she thought that abunch of fragrant blossoms would entice it in a moment. The littlecreature came and went, flew round the balcony and retired: and stillold Raphael kept out of sight behind the leafy screen.
"It will be gone, pretty creature!" said Euphrosyne to herself; "and allfor want of a single bough from all those thickets!"
A thought struck her. Her morning frock was tied round the waist with acord, having tassels which hung down nearly to her feet. She took offthe cord, made a noose in it, and let it down among the shrubs below,swinging the end this way and that, as she thought best for catchingsome stray twig. She pursued her aim for a time, sending showers ofdew-drops paltering down, and knocking off a good many blossoms, butcatching nothing. She was so busy, that she did not see that agrey-suited nun had come out, with a wicker cage in her hand, and waswatching her proceedings.
"What are you doing, my child?" asked the nun, approaching, as a newshower of dew-drops and blossoms was shaken abroad. "If you desire tofish, I doubt not our reverend mother will make you welcome to our pondyonder."
"Oh, sister Christine! I am glad you are come out," said Euphrosyne,bending over the balcony, and speaking in a low, though eager voice."Do give me a branch of something sweet,--orange, or citron, orsomething. This humming-bird, will be gone if we do not make haste--Hush! Do not call. Grandpapa is not awake yet. Please, make haste."
Sister Christine was not wont to make haste; but she did her best togratify Euphrosyne. She went straight to the corner of the shrubberywhere the abbess's mocking-bird spent all its summer days, hung up thecage, and brought back what Euphrosyne had asked. The branch was drawnup in the noose of the cord, and the nun could not but stand and watchthe event.
The bough was stuck between two of the bars of the jalousie, and thegirl withdrew to the end of the balcony. The humming-bird appeared,hovered round, and at last inserted its long beak in a blossom,sustaining itself the while on its quivering wings. Before proceedingto another blossom it flew away. Euphrosyne cast a smile down to thenun, and placed herself against the jalousie, holding the branch uponher head. As she had hoped, two humming-birds returned. After somehesitation, they came for more of their sweet food, and Euphrosyne feltthat her hair was blown about on her forehead by the motion of theirbusy wings. She desired, above everything, to keep still; but thisstrong desire, and the sight of sister Christine's grave face turned soeagerly upwards, made her laugh so as to shake the twigs very fearfully.Keeping her hand with the branch steady, she withdrew her head frombeneath, and then stole slowly and cautiously backward within thewindow--the birds following. She now heard her grandfather's voice,calling feebly and fretfully. She half turned to make a signal forsilence, which the old man so far observed as to sink his complaints toa mutter. The girl put the branch into a water-jar near the window, andthen stepped lightly to the bed.
"What is all this nonsense?" said Monsieur Revel. "Why did not you comethe moment I called?"
"Here I am, grandpapa--and do look--look at my humming-birds!"
"Humming-birds--nonsense! I called you twice."
Yet the old gentleman rubbed his eyes, which did not seem yet quiteawake. He rubbed his eyes and looked through the shaded room, as if tosee Euphrosyne's new plaything. She brought him his spectacles from thetoilette, helped to raise him up, threw a shawl over his shoulders, andplaced his pillows at his back. Perceiving that he still could not seevery distinctly, she opened another blind, so as to let one level ray ofsunshine fall upon the water-jar, and the little radiant creatures thatwere hovering about it.
"There! there!" cried Monsieur Revel, in a pleased tone.
"Now I will go and bring you your coffee," said Euphrosyne.
"Stop, stop, child! Why are you in such a hurry? I want to know whatis the matter. Such a night as I have had!"
"A bad night, grandpapa? I am sorry."
"Bad enough! How came my light to go out? And what is all thiscommotion in the streets?"
Euphrosyne went to the night-lamp, and found that a very large flyingbeetle had disabled itself by breaking the glass, and putting out thelight. There it lay dead--a proof at least that there were no ants inthe room.
"Silly thing!" said Euphrosyne. "I do wish these beetles would learn tofly properly. He must have startled you, grandpapa. Did not you thinkit was a thief, when you were left in the dark?"
"It is very odd that nobody about me can find me a lamp that will serveme. And then, what is all this bustle in the town? Tell me at oncewhat is the matter."
"I know of nothing the matter. The trompettes have been by thismorning; and they say that the Commander-in-chief is here: so there willbe nothing the matter. There was some talk last night, Pierre said--some fright about to-day. But L'Ouverture is come; and it will be allright now, you know."
"You know nothing about it, child--teazing one with your buzzing,worrying humming-birds! Go and get my coffee, and send Pierre to me."
"The birds will come with me, I dare say, if I go by the balcony. Iwill take them away."
"No, no. Don't lose time with them. Let them be. Go and send Pierre."
When Euphrosyne returned with the coffee, she found, as Pierre had foundbefore her, Monsieur Revel so engrossed in looking through hisspectacles at the water-jar, as to have forgotten what he had to ask andto say.
"You will find the bath ready whenever you want it, grandpapa," saidEuphrosyne, as she placed the little tray before him: "and it is a sweetairy morning."
"Ay; I must make haste up, and see what is to be done. It is not safeto lie and rest in one's bed, in this part of the world." And he madehaste to stir his coffee with his trembling hands.
"Oh, you have often said that--almost ever since I can remember--andhere we are, quite safe still."
"Tell the truth, child. How dare you say that we have been safe eversince
you remember?"
"I said `almost,' grandpapa. I do not forget about our being in thewoods--about--but we will not talk of that now. That was all over along time ago; and we have been very safe since. The great thing of allis, that there was no L'Ouverture then, to take care of us. Now, youknow, the Commander-in-chief is always thinking how he can take the bestcare of us."
"`No L'Ouverture then!' One would think you did not know what and whereToussaint was then. Why, child, your poor father was master over ahundred such as he."
"Do you think they were like him? Surely, if they had been like him,they would not have treated us as they did. Afra says she does notbelieve, anybody like him ever lived."
"Afra is a pestilent little fool."
"Oh, grandpapa!"
"Well, well! She is a very good girl in her way; but she talks aboutwhat she does not understand. She pretends to judge of governors of thecolony, when her own father cannot govern this town, and she never knewBlanchelande! Ah! if she had known Blanchelande, she would have seen aman who understood his business, and had spirit to keep up the dignityand honour of the colony. If that sort of rule had gone on till now, weshould not have had the best houses in the island full of these blackupstarts; nor a mulatto governor in this very town."
"And then I should not have had Afra for a friend, grandpapa."
"You would have been better without, child. I do not like to see youfor ever with a girl of her complexion, though she is the governor'sdaughter. There must be an end of it--there shall be an end of it. Itis a good time now. There is a reason for it to-day. It is time youmade friends of your own complexion, child; and into the convent yougo--this very day."
"Oh, grandpapa, you don't mean that those nuns are of my complexion!Poor pale creatures! I would not for the world look like them: and Icertainly shall, if you put me there. I had much rather look like Afrathan like sister Benoite, or sister Cecile. Grandpapa! you would notlike me to look like sister Benoite?"
"How do I know, child? I don't know one from another of them."
"No, indeed! and you would not know me by the time I had been therethree months. How sorry you would be, grandpapa, when you asked for menext winter, to see all those yellow-faced women pass before you, andwhen the yellowest of all came, to have to say, `Can this be my poorEuphrosyne!'"
Monsieur Revel could not help laughing as he looked up at the girlthrough his spectacles. He pinched her cheek, and said that there wascertainly more colour there than was common in the West Indies; but thatit must fade, in or out of the convent, by the time she was twenty; andshe had better be in a place where she was safe. The convent was theonly safe place.
"You have often said that before," replied she, "and the time has nevercome yet. And no more it will now. I shall go with Afra to thecacao-gathering at Le Zephyr, as I did last year. Oh, that sweet coolplace in the Mornes du Chaos! How different from this great ugly squarewhite convent, with nothing that looks cheerful, and nothing to be heardbut teaching, teaching, and religion, religion, for ever."
"I advise you to make friends among the sisters, however, Euphrosyne;for there you will spend the next few years."
"I will not make friends with anything but the poor mocking-bird. Ihave promised Afra not to love anybody instead of her; but she will notbe jealous of the poor bird. It and I will spend the whole day in thethicket, mocking and pining--pining and mocking. The sisters shall notget a word out of me--not one of them. I may speak to old Raphael nowand then, that I may not forget how to use my tongue; but I vow thatpoor bird shall be my only friend."
"We shall see that. We shall see how long a giddy child like you cankeep her mocking-bird tone in the uproar that is coming upon us! Whatwill you do, child, without me, when the people of this colony arecutting one another's throats over my grave? What will become of youwhen I am gone?"
"Dear grandpapa, before that comes the question, What will you dowithout me? What will become of you when I am gone into that dullplace? You know very well, grandpapa, that you cannot spare me."
The old man's frame was shaken with sobs. He put his thin hands beforehis face, and the tears trickled between his fingers. Euphrosynecaressed him, saying, "There! I knew how it would be. I knew I shouldnever leave you. I never will leave you. I will bring up your coffeeevery morning, and light your lamp every night, as long as you live."
As she happened to be looking towards the door, she saw it opening alittle upon its noiseless hinges, and a hand which she knew to bePierre's beckoning to her. Her grandfather did not see it. Shewithdrew herself from him with a sportive kiss, ordered him to rest fora while, and think of nothing but her humming-birds, and carried thetray out of the room.
Pierre was there, waiting impatiently with a note from Afra.
"I did not bring it in, Mademoiselle," said he, "because I am sure thereis something amiss. A soldier brought the note; and he says he hasorders to stay for my master's commands."
Afra's note told what this meant. It was as follows:--
"Dearest Euphrosyne,
"Do not be frightened. There is time, if you come directly. There isno danger, if you come to us. The cultivators are marching hither overthe plain. It is with the whites that they are angry; so you had bettermake yourselves secure with us. The soldier who brings this will escortMonsieur Revel and you this little way through the streets: but you mustlose no time. We are sorry to hurry your grandfather; but it cannot behelped. Come, my dearest, to your
"Afra Raymond."
Pierre saw his young lady's face turn as pale as any nun's, as sheglanced over this note.
"The carriage, Pierre! Have it to the door instantly."
"With your leave. Mademoiselle, the soldier says no French carriageswill be safe in the streets this morning."
"Oh, mercy! A chair, then. Send for a chair this moment. The soldierwill go for it--ask him as a favour. They will not dare to refuse oneto a governor's guard. Then come, and dress your master, and do notlook so grave, Pierre, before him."
Pierre went, and was met at the door by a servant with another note. Itwas--
"Do not come by the street, dearest Euphrosyne. The nuns will let youthrough their garden, into our garden alley, if you can only get yourgrandfather over the balcony. My two messengers will help you; but theyare much wanted:--so make haste.
"A.E."
"Make the soldiers sling an arm-chair from the balcony, Pierre; and sendone of them round into the convent garden, to be ready to receive usthere. The abbess will have the gate open to the Government-housealley. Then come, and dress your master; and leave it to me to tell himeverything."
"Likely enough," muttered Pierre; "for I know nothing of what is inthose notes myself."
"And I do not understand what it is all about," said Euphrosyne, as shereturned to her grandfather.
He had fallen into a light doze, lulled by the motion and sound of thehumming-birds. Euphrosyne kissed his forehead, to rouse him, and thentold him gaily that it was terribly late--he had no idea how late itwas--he must get up directly. The bath! no; there must be no bathto-day. There was not time for it; or, at least, he must go a littleride first. A new sort of carriage was getting ready--
She now looked graver, as Pierre entered. She said, that while Pierredressed him, she would put up some clothes for a short visit toGovernment-house.
Monsieur Revel, being now alarmed, Euphrosyne admitted that someconfusion in the streets was expected, and that the Governor and Afrathought that their friends would be most quiet at the back ofGovernment-house.
To her consternation, Monsieur Revel suddenly refused to stir a stepfrom his own dwelling. He would not be deceived into putting himselfand his child into the hands of any mulattoes upon earth, governors orother. Not one of his old friends, in Blanchelande's time, would havecountenanced such an act; and he would not so betray his colour and hischild. He had rather die on his own threshold.
"You must do as you please abou
t that, sir," said Pierre; "but, forMademoiselle Euphrosyne, I must say, that I think it is full early forher to die--and when she might be safe too!"
"Oh, grandpapa! I cannot let you talk of our dying," cried Euphrosyne,her cheeks bathed in tears. "Indeed I will not die--nor shall youeither. Besides, if that were all--"
The old man knew what was in her mind--that she was thinking of thewoods. He sank down on his knees by the bedside, and prayed that theearth might gape and swallow them up--that the sea might rush in, andoverflow the hollow where the city had been, before he and his shouldfall into the hands of the cursed blacks.
"Grandpapa," said Euphrosyne, gravely, "if you pray such a prayer asthat, do not pray aloud. I cannot hear such a prayer as that."Struggling with her tears, she continued: "I know you are very muchfrightened--and I do not wonder that you are: but I do wish you wouldremember that we have very kind friends who will protect us, if we willonly make haste and go to them. And as for their being of a differentcolour--I do wonder that you can ask God to cause the earth to swallowus up, when you know (at least, you have taught me so) we must meetpeople of all races before the throne of God. He has made of one bloodall the nations of the earth, you know."
Monsieur Revel shook his head impatiently, as if to show that she didnot understand his feelings. She went on, however:--
"If we so hate and distrust them at this moment, here, how can we prayfor death, so as to meet them at the next moment there? Oh, grandpapa!let us know them a little better first. Let us go to them now."
"Don't waste time so, child; you hinder my dressing."
He allowed himself to be dressed, and made no further opposition till hefound himself at the balcony of the next room.
"Here is your new coach," said Euphrosyne, "and plenty of servants:"showing him how one of the soldiers and old Raphael stood below toreceive the chair, and the abbess herself was in waiting in a distantwalk, beside the wicket they were to pass through.
Of course, the old gentleman said he could never get down that way; andhe said something about dying on his own threshold--this time, however,in a very low voice. But, in the midst of his opposition, Euphrosyneseated herself in the chair, and was let down. When she could no longerhear his complaints, but was standing beckoning to him from thegrass-plat below, he gave up all resistance, was let down with perfectease, and carried in the chair, followed by all the white members of hishousehold, through the gardens, and up the alley where Afra was awaitingthem. There was a grey sister peeping from behind every blind as theycrossed the garden, and trembling with the revived fears of thatterrible night of ninety-one, when they had fled to the ships. It wassome comfort to them to see old Raphael busy with rake and knife,repairing the damage done to the bed under the balcony--all trampled asit was. Each nun said to herself that Raphael seemed to have no fearsbut that the garden would go on as usual, whatever disturbance wasabroad.
"Have you seen him?" asked Euphrosyne eagerly of her friend, the momentthey met.
"Oh yes. You shall see him too, from my window, if they will but talkon till we get there. He and the Commissary, and some of theCommissary's officers, are in the rose-garden under my window. Makehaste, or they may be gone."
"We must see grandpapa settled first."
"Oh yes; but I am so afraid they may be gone! They have been pacing thealley between the rose-trees this hour nearly--talking and arguing allthe time. I am sure they were arguing; for they stopped every now andthen, and the Commissary made such gestures! He looked so impatient andso vexed!"
"And did _he_ look vexed, too?"
"Not in the least angry, but severe. So quiet, so majestic he looked,as he listened to all they said! and when he answered them--Oh, I wouldnot, for all the island, have his eyes so set upon me!"
"Oh dear, let us make haste, or they will be gone!" cried Euphrosyne.
While Euphrosyne was endeavouring to make her grandfather feel himselfat home and comfortable in the apartment appointed for him by theGovernor, Afra ran to her window, to see if the potentates of the islandwere still at their conference. The rose-garden was empty; and she cameback sorrowfully to say so. As she entered the apartment of her guests,she heard Monsieur Revel sending a message of compliments to theCommissary, with a request of an audience of a few minutes. Theservants gave as much intimation as they dared of the Commissary beingso particularly engaged, that they had rather be excused carrying thismessage. The girls looked at one another, nodded agreement, andEuphrosyne spoke.
"Suppose, grandpapa, you ask to see the Commander-in-chief. He neverrefuses anything that is asked of him: and he can do everything hewishes. I dare say he will come at once, if you desire it, and if we donot detain him too long. If he had been in this room once with us, howsafe we should feel!"
"Oh, if we could see him once in this room!" cried Afra.
"Do you suppose I will beg a favour of that ambitious black?" criedMonsieur Revel. "Do you think I will crave an audience of a fellow who,for aught I know, may have driven his master's carriage to my door inthe old days?--no, if I cannot see Hedouville, I will take my chance.Go, fellow! and carry my message," he cried to Pierre.
Pierre returned with the answer which might have been anticipated. TheCommissary was so engaged, there was so much bustle and confusionthroughout his establishment, that no one of his people would deliverthe message.
"That would not have been the answer if--" whispered Euphrosyne to herfriend.
"Shall I venture?--yes, I will--shall I? At least, I will keep upon thewatch," said Afra, as she withdrew.
She presently sent in, with the tray of fruit, a basket of flowers,which Euphrosyne occupied herself in dressing, exactly as she did athome, humming the while the airs her grandfather heard her sing everyday. Her devices answered very well. He presently occupied himself inpointing out, exactly as he always did, that there was too much green inthis bouquet, and not enough in that.
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