Chapter XX
"What elegance and grandeur wide expand, The pride of Turkey and of Persia land! Soft quilts on quilts, on carpets carpets spread, And couches stretch'd around in seemly band, And endless pillows rise to prop the head.
* * * * * Here languid Beauty kept her pale-faced court." THOMSON.
The female slaves who could not obtain the history of Newton immediatelyrepaired to the chamber of their mistress, knowing that if they couldsucceed in raising her curiosity, they would at the same time gratifytheir own. Madame de Fontanges was, as they asserted, in her chamber,or, what may now be more correctly styled, her boudoir. It was a roomabout fourteen feet square, the sides of which were covered with abeautiful paper, representing portions of the history of Paul andVirginia: the floor was covered with fine matting, with here and there asmall Persian carpet above it. Small marble tables were decorated with avariety of ornaments and French perfumes, or vases filled with thesplendid flowers of a tropical clime. There was a large window at eachend of the room, cut down to the ground, in the French fashion; andoutside of both was a little balcony--the trellice-work covered withpassion-flower and clematis. The doors and other compartments of the roomwere not papered, but had French mirrors let into the pannelling. On a lowottoman of elegant workmanship, covered with a damasked French silk,reposed Madame de Fontanges, attended by three or four young female slaves,of different complexions, but none of pure African blood. Others wereseated upon the different Persian carpets about the room, in listlessidleness, or strewing the petals of the orange-flower, to perfume theapartment with its odour. The only negro was a little boy, about six yearsof age, dressed in a fantastic costume, who sat in a corner, apparently ina very sulky humour. Madame de Fontanges was a Creole,--that is, born inthe West Indies of French parents. She had been sent home to France for hereducation, and had returned at the age of fourteen to Guadaloupe, whereshe soon after married Monsieur de Fontanges, an officer of rank, andbrother to the governor of the island. Her form was diminutive, but mostperfect; her hand and arm models for the statuary; while her feet wereso small as almost to excite risibility when you observed them. Herfeatures were regular, and when raised from her usual listlessness,full of expression. Large hazel eyes, beautifully pencilled eyebrows,with long fringed eyelashes, dark and luxuriant hair, Grecian nose,small mouth, with thin coral lips, were set off by a complexion whicheven the climate could not destroy, although it softened it into extremedelicacy.
Such was the person of Madame de Fontanges, now about eighteen yearsold, and one of the most beautiful specimens of the French Creole whichcould be imagined. Her perfect little figure needed no support; she wassimply attired in a muslin _robe de chambre_, as she reposed upon theottoman, waiting with all the impatience of her caste for the setting inof the sea-breeze, which would give some relief from the oppressive heatof the climate.
"Eventez! Nina, eventez!" cried she to one of her attendants, who wasstanding at the head of the sofa with a large feather fan.
"Oui, madame," replied the girl, stirring up the dormant atmosphere.
"Eventez! Caroline, eventez mes mains, vite."
"Oui, madame," replied the second, working away with another fan.
"Eventez! eventez mes pieds, Mimi."
"Oui, madame," replied the third, fanning in the direction pointed out.
"Louise," said Madame de Fontanges, languidly, after a short pause,"apportez-moi de l'eau sucree."
"Oui, madame," replied another, rising, in obedience to the order.
"Non, non! Je n'en veux pas--mais j'ai soif horrible. Manchette, vachercher de l'eau cerise."
"Oui, madame," replied Manchette, rising from her seat. But she had notquitted the room before Madame de Fontanges had changed her mind.
"Attendez, Manchette. Ce n'est pas ca. Je voudrais de limonade.Charlotte, va l'en chercher."
"Oui, madame," said Charlotte, leaving the room to execute the order.
"Ah, mon Dieu! qu'il fait une chaleur epouvantable.
"Mimi, que tu es paresseuse? Eventez! vite, vite.
"Ou est Monsieur?"
"Monsieur dort."
"Ah! qu'il est heureux. Et Cupidon--ou est-il?"
"II est ici, au coin, madame. Il boude."
"Qu'est-ce qu'il a fait donc?"
"Ah, madame! Il a vole le dindon roti, et l'a tout mange."
"Ah, le petit polisson! Venez ici, Cupidon."
Cupidon, the little negro-boy we have before mentioned as sitting in thecorner of the room, walked up with a very deliberate pace to the side ofthe ottoman, his two thick lips sticking out about six inches in advanceof the remainder of his person.
"Cupidon," said the lady, turning a little on one side to speak to him,"tu as mange le dindon entier. Tu as mal fait, mon ami. Tu seras malade.Comprends-tu, Cupidon, c'est une sottise que tu as fait?"
Cupidon made no reply; his head was hung down a little lower, and hislips extended a little further out.
"Sache que tu es un petite voleur!" continued his mistress.
Cupidon did not condescend to answer.
"Allez, monsieur; ne m'approchez pas."
Cupidon turned short round without reply, and walked back to his cornerwith the same deliberate pace as before, when he came out of it.
Charlotte now returned with the lemonade for which she had beendespatched, and informed her mistress as she presented it, thatNicholas, who had charge of the schooner, had returned with an Europeanprisoner; but that neither he nor Gustave would give her any furtherinformation, although she had requested it in the name of her mistress.This was quite an event, and gave a fillip to the inertness of Madame deFontanges, whose curiosity was excited.
"A-t-il bonne mine, Charlotte?"
"Oui, madame, c'est un bel homme."
"Et ou est-il?"
"Avec Nicholas."
"Et Monsieur?"
"Monsieur dort."
"Il faut l'eveiller. Faites bien mes compliments au Monsieur deFontanges, et dites-lui que je me trouve fort malade, et que je voudraislui parier. Entends-tu, Celeste; je parle a toi."
"Oui, madame," replied the girl, throwing some orange flowers off herlap, and rising to deliver her message.
M. de Fontanges, who, like most of the Europeans, slept through thehottest portion of the day, rose in compliance with his wife's message,and made his appearance in the boudoir, dressed in a white cotton jacketand trousers. A few polite inquiries after the health of Madame deFontanges, which, as he had conjectured from similar previousoccurrences, was not worse than usual, were followed by his receivingfrom her the information of Newton's arrival, coupled with anobservation, that it would amuse her if the prisoner were interrogatedin her presence.
Newton was summoned to the boudoir, where M. de Fontanges, who spokevery good English, received from him the history of his disasters, andtranslated them into French, to gratify the curiosity of his wife.
"C'est un beau garcon," observed M. de Fontanges. "Mais que faire? Ilest prisonnier. Il faut l'envoyer a mon frere, le gouverneur."
"Il est joli garcon," replied Madame de Fontanges.
"Donnez-lui des habits, Fontanges; et ne l'envoyez pas encore."
"Et pourquoi, mon amie?"
"Je voudrais lui apprendre le Francais."
"Cela ne se peut pas, ma chere; il est prisonnier."
"Cela se peut, Monsieur de Fontanges," replied the lady.
"Je n'ose pas," continued the husband.
"Moi j'ose," replied the lady, decidedly.
"Je ne voudrais pas," said the gentleman.
"Moi, je veux," interrupted the lady.
"Mais il faut etre raisonnable, madame."
"II faut m'obeir, monsieur."
"Mais------"
"Pschut!" replied the lady; "c'est une affaire decidee. Monsieur legouverneur ne parle pas l'Anglais. C'est _absolument necessaire_ que lejeune homme apprenne notre langue; et c'est mon plaisir de l'enseigner.Au revoir, Monsieur de Fontanges. C
harlotte, va chercher des habits."
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