To different minds this true story will speak, no doubt, a varyingcounsel. Some will believe that the lovely island was saved from theagonies of a Haytian revolution only through iron suppression. Toothers it will appear that the old governor's rashly timorous edictwas, after all, the true source of deliverance. Certainly the questionremains, whether even the most sudden and ill-timed concession ofrights, if only backed by energetic police action, is not a prompter,surer cure for public disorder than whole batteries of artillerywithout the concession of rights. I believe the most blundering effortfor the prompt undoing of a grievous wrong is safer than the shrewdestor strongest effort for its continuance. Meanwhile, with what patiencedoth God wait for man to learn his lessons! The Holy Cross stillglitters on the bosom of its crystal sea, as it shone before the Caribdanced on its snowy sands, and as it will still shine when some newColumbus, as yet unborn, brings to it the Christianity of a purer daythan ours.
Chester shook the pages together on his knee.
"Oh-h-h!" cried Mlle. Corinne to Yvonne, to Aline, to Mlle. Castanado,"the en'! and--where is all that abbout that beautiful cat what wasthe proprity of Dora? Everything abbout that cat of Dora--_scratchout_! Ah, Mr. Chezter! Yvonne and me, we find that the moze am-usingpart--that episode of the cat--that large, wonderful, mazculine cat ofDora! Ah, madame" [to the chair], "hardly Marie Madeleine is morewonderful than that--when Jack pritend to lift his li'l' miztressthrough the surf of the sea, how he _flew_ at the throat of Jack, thataztonishing mazculine cat! Ah, M'sieu' Beloiseau!--and to scradgethat!"
But Beloiseau was judicially calm. "Yes, I rim-ember that portion.Scientific-ally I foun' that very interezting; but, like Mr. Chezter, Ithing tha'z better _art_ that the tom-cat be elimin-ate."
"Well," said the chair, "w'at we want to settle--shall we accep' thatriv-ision of Mr. Chezter, to combine it in the book--'Clock in theSky,' 'Angel of the Lord,' 'Holy Crozz'--seem' to me that combinationgoin' to sell like hot cake'."
"Yes! Agcept!" came promptly from two or three.
"Any oppose'? There is not any oppose'--Seraphine--Marcel--you'll beso good to pazz those rif-reshment?"
XXXIV
"Tis gone--to the pewblisher?"
M. De l'Isle, about to enter his double gate, had paused. In his home,overhead, a clock was striking five of the tenth day after that secondreading in the Castanados' parlor. The energetic inquiry was his.
A single step away, in the door of the iron-worker's shop, Beloiseau,too quick for Chester, at whose elbow he stood, replied: "Tis gonebetter! Tis gone to the editor--of the greatez' magazine of the worl'!"
"Bravo! Sinze how long?"
"A week," Chester said.
"Hah! and his _rip_-ly?"
"Hasn't come yet."
"Ah, look out, now! Look out he don' steal that! You di'n' write him:'Wire answer'? You muz' do that! I'll pay it myseff!"
"I thought I'd wait one more day. He may have other manuscripts toconsider."
"Mr. Chezter, that manuscrip' is not in a prize contess; 'tis only withitseff! You di'n' say that?"
"I--implied it--as gracefully as I could."
"Ah! graze'--the h-only way to write those fellow, tha'z with the bigstick! 'Wire h-answer!'"
Beloiseau lifted a finger: "I don' think thad way. Firz' place, bigstick or no, that hiztorie is sure to be accept'."
M. De l'Isle let out a roar that seemed to tear the lining from histhroat: "Aw-w-w! tha'z not to compel the agceptanze; tha'z to scarethem from stealing it! And to privend that, there's another thing youwant to infer them: that you billong to the Louisiana Branch of theAuthors' Protegtive H-union! Ah, doubtlezz you don't--billong; but allthe same you can infer them!"
Beloiseau's response crowded Chester's out: "Well, they are maybeimportant, those stratagem'; but to me the chieve danger is if maybe_that_ editor shou'n' have the sagacitie--artiztic--commercial--toperceive the brilliancy of thad story."
"Never mine! in any'ow two days we'll know. Scipion! The day avterthose two, tha'z a pewblic holiday--everything shut!"
"Yes, well?"
"If that news come, 'accepted,' all of us we'll be so please' thatwe'll be compel to egsprezz that in a joy-ride! and even if 'rifused,'we'll need that joy-ride to swallow the indignation."
"Ah! but with whose mash-in', so it won't put uz in bankrup'cy?"
"With two mash-in'--the two of Thorndyke-Smith! He's offer' to borrowme those whiles he's going to be accrozz the lake. You'll drive thelarge, me the small."
"Hah! Tha'z a gran' scheme. At the en', dinner at Antoine', all themen chipping in! Castanado--Dubroca--me--Mr. Chezter, eh?"
"With the greatest pleasure if I'm included."
"Include'--hoh! By the laws of nature!" M. De l'Isle went on up-stairs.
"We had a dinner like that," Beloiseau said, "only withoud the joy-rideand withoud those three Mlles. Chapdelaine, juz' a few week' biffo' wemake' yo' acquaintanze. That was to celebrade that great victory inFrance and same time the news of savety of our four boys ad the front."
Chester stood astounded. "What four boys?"
"You di'n' know abboud those? Ah, well, tha'z maybe biccause we don'speak of them biffo' those ladies Chapdelaine. An' still tha'z drollyou di'n' know that, but tha'z maybe biccause each one he's thinkanother he's tol' you, and biccause tha'z not a prettie cheerfulsubjec', eh? Yes, they are two son' of Dubroca and Castanado,soldier', and two of De l'Isle and me, aviateur'."
"And up to a few weeks ago they were all well?"
"Ah, not well--one wounded, one h'arm broke, one trench-fivver, but allsafe, laz' account."
"Tell me more about them, Beloiseau. You know I don't easily askpersonal questions. Tell me all I'm welcome to know, will you?"
"I want to do that--to tell you all; but"--M. Ducatel, next neighborabove, was approaching--"better another time--ah, Rene, tha'z a prettywarm evening, eh?"
XXXV
For two days more the vast machinery of the United States mail swungback and forth across the continent and the oceans beyond, and inunnumbered cities and towns the letter-carriers came and went; butnothing they brought into Bienville or Royal Street bore tidings fromthat execrable editor in New York who in salaried ease sat "holding up"the manuscript once the impressionable Dora's, now the gentle Aline's.The holiday--"everything shut up"--had arrived. No carrier was abroad.Neither reason given for the joy-ride held good. Yet the project waswell on foot. The smaller car was at the De l'Isles' lovely gates,with monsieur in the chauffeur's seat, Mme. Alexandre at his side, andDubroca close behind her. The larger machine stood at the oppositecurb, with Beloiseau for driver, and Mme. Dubroca--a very small, trim,well-coiffed woman with a dainty lorgnette--in the first seat behindhim. Castanado waited in the street door at the foot of his stair,down which Mme. Castanado was coming the only way she could come.
Her crossing of the sidewalk and her elevation first to therunning-board and then to a seat beside Mme. Dubroca took time and thestrength of both men, yet was achieved with a dignity hardlyappreciated by the street children, who covered their mouths, avertedtheir faces, and cheered as the two cars, the smaller leading, movedoff and turned from Royal Street into Conti on their way to pick up thethree Chapdelaines.
For nearly two hundred years--ever since the city had had apost-office--the post-office had been not too superior to remain in the_vieux carre_. Now, like so many old Creole homes themselves, it was"away up" in the American quarter--or "nine-tenth'"--at LafayetteSquare. On holidays any one anxious enough for his mail to go "away upyondah" between nine and ten A.M., could have it for the asking. Andsuch a one was Chester.
He had his reward. Twice and again he read the magazine's name on theenvelope as he bore it to the Camp Street front of the building, butwould not open the missive. That should be _her_ privilege and honor.He lifted his eyes from it and behold, here came the two cars! Butwhere was she? Certainly not in the front one. There he made out, inpairs, M. De l'Isle and Mme.
Alexandre. Mlle. Yvonne and M. Dubroca,M. Castanado, and Mme. De l'Isle. Then in the rear car his alarmed eyepicked out Beloiseau and Mlle. Corinne, with Cupid between them; Mmes.Dubroca and Castanado, especially the latter; and then, oh, then!Behind the smaller woman a vacant seat and behind the vaster one AlineChapdelaine.
"You've heard?" cried M. De Elsie, slowing to the curb. Chesterfluttered his prize. "Click, clap!"--he was in without the stopping ofa wheel and had passed the letter to Aline.
"Accepted?" asked several, while both cars resumed their speed up-town.
"We'll open it in Audubon Park," she said to Chester, and Mme.Castanado and Dubroca passed the word forward to Beloiseau and Mlle.Corinne. These soon got it to Castanado and Mme. De l'Isle.
"Not to be open' till Audubon Park," sped the word still forward tillMlle. Yvonne and Dubroca had passed it to Mme. Alexandre and M. Del'Isle.
"Ahah!" he said, as he turned Lee Circle and went spinning up St.Charles Avenue. "Not in the pewblic street, but in Audubon Park, andto the singing of bird'!"
XXXVI
Out near the riverside end of the park the two cars stopped abreastunder a vast live-oak, and Aline, rising, opened the letter and readaloud:
MY DEAR MR. CHESTER:
Your manuscript, "The Holy Cross," accompanied by your letter ofthe -- inst., is received and will have our early attention.
Very respectfully,
THE EDITOR.
All other outcries ceased half-uttered when the Chapdelaine sistersclapped hands for joy, crying:
"Agcepted! Agcepted! Ah, Aline! by that kindnezz and sag-acitie ofMr. Chezter--and all the rez' of our Royal Street frien'--you arebiccome the diz-ting-uish' and _lucrative_ authorezz, Mlle.Chapdelaine!"
M. De l'Isle's wrath was too hot for his tongue, but Scipion stoodwaiting to speak, and Mme. Castanado beckoned attention and spoke hisname.
"_Messieurs et mesdames_" he said, "that manuscrip' is no mo' agcept'than rij-ect'. That stadement, tha'z only to rilease those insuranzecompanie' and----"
"And to stop us from telegraphing!" M. De l'Isle broke in, "and tomake us, ad the end, glad to get even a small price! Ah,mesdemoiselles, you don't know those razcal' like me!"
"Oh!" cried the tender Yvonne--original rescuer of Marie Madeleine fromboy lynchers--"you don't have charitie! That way you make _yo'seff_un'appie."
"Me, I cann' think," her sister persevered, "that tha'z juz' for theinsuranse. The manuscrip' is receive'? Well! 'ow can you receivesomething if you don't agcept it? And 'ow can you agcep' that if youdon' receive it? Ah-h-h!"
"No," Beloiseau rejoined, "tha'z only to signify that the editorialdecision--tha'z not decide'."
Mlle. Corinne lifted both hands to the entire jury: "Oh, frien', Iassure you, that manuscrip' is agcept'. And tha'z the proof; that bothYvonne and me we've had a presentiment of that already sinze thebiggening! Ah-h-h!"
Castanado intervened: "Mademoiselle, that lady yonder"--he gave hiswife a courtier's bow--"will tell you a differenze. Once on a time shereceive' a h-offer of marriage; but 'twas not till after many days thadshe agcept' it." [Applause.] "But ad the en', I su'pose tha'z for Mr.Chezter, our legal counsel, to conclude."
Mr. Chester "thought that although receipt did not imply acceptance thetardiness of this letter did argue a probability that the manuscripthad successfully passed some sort of preliminary reading--orreadings--and now awaited only the verdict of the editor-in-chief."
"Or," ventured Mme. Alexandre, "of that editorial board all together."
M. De l'Isle shook his head and then a stiff finger: "I tell you! Theyare sicretly inquiring Thorndyke-Smith--lit'ry magnet--to fine out ifwe are truz'-worthy! And tha'z the miztake we did---not sen'ing thephotograph of Mlle. Aline ad the biggening. But tha'z not yet toolate; we can wire them from firz' drug-store, 'Suspen' judgment!Portrait of authorezz coming!'"
All eyes, even Cupid's, turned to her. She was shaking her head."No," she responded, with a smile as lovely, to Chester's fancy, as itwas final; as final, to the two aunts' conviction, as it was lovely.
"No photograph would be convincing," Chester began to plead, butstopped for the aunts.
"Oh, impossible!" they cried. "That wou'n' be de-corouz!"
"Ladies an' gentlemen," said M. Castanado, "we are on a joy-ride."
"An' we 'ave reason!" his wife exclaimed.
"Biccause hope!" Mme. Alexandre put in.
"Yes!" said Dubroca. "That manuscrip' is not allone receive'; sinzemore than a week 'tis _rittain'_, whiles they dillib-rate; and thechateau what dillib-rate'--you know, eh? M'sieu' De l'Isle, I move youwe go h-on."
They went, the De l'Isle car and then Scipion's, back to St. CharlesAvenue, and turned again up-town. On the rearmost seat----
"Why so silent?" Aline inquired of Chester.
"Because so content," he said, "except when I think of the book."
"The half-book?"
"Exactly. We've only half enough stories yet.
"Though with the _vieux carre_ full of them?"
"Oh! mostly so raw, so bald, so thin!"
"Ah, I knew you would see that. As though human life and characterwere--what would say?"
"I'd say crustacean; their anatomy all on the surface. Such storiesare not life, life in the round; they're only paper silhouettes--of thereal life's poorest facts and moments. I state the thought poorly butyou get it, don't you?"
The girl sparkled, not so much for the thought as for their fellowshipin it. "Once I heard mamma say to my aunts: 'So many of these _vieuxcarre_ stories are but pretty pebbles--a quadroon and a duel, aquadroon and a duel--always the same two peas in the baby's rattle.'"
"There are better stories for a little deeper search," Chester said.
"Ah, she said that too! 'And not,' she said, 'because the _vieuxcarre_ is unlike, but so like the rest of the world.'"
Thus they spoke, happily--even a bit recklessly--conscious that theywere themselves a beautiful story without the flash of a sword or thecloud of a misdeed in range of their sight, and not because the _vieuxcarre_ was unlike, but so like the rest of the world.
"Where are we going?" Aline inquired, and tried to look forward aroundMme. Castanado.
"You and I," Chester said, "are going back to your father's story. Yousaid, the other day, his life was quiet, richer within than without."
"Yes. Ah, yes; so that while of the inside I cannot tell half, of theoutside there is almost nothing to tell."
"All the same, tell it. Were not he and these Royal Street men boystogether?"
"Yes, though with M. De l'Isle the oldest, and though papa was awayfrom them many years, over there in France. Yes, they were all hisfriends, as their fathers had been of _grandpere_. And they'll alltell you the same thing; that he was their hero, while at the same timethat his story is destitute of the theatrical. Just he himself, he andmamma--they are the whole story."
"A sea without a wave?"
"Ah, no; yet without a storm. And, Mr. Chester, I think a sea withouta storm can be just as deep as with, h'm?"
XXXVII
"Well, they married, your father and mother, over there where herpeople are fighting the Germans right now, and came and lived inBourbon Street with your aunts, eh?"
"Yes, or rather my aunts with them, they were of so much more strongnatures than my aunts--more strong and large while just as sweet, andthat's saying much, you know."
"I see it is."
"Mr. Chester, what you see, I think, is that my aunts are perhaps thetwo most--well--unworldly women you ever knew."
"True. In that quality they're childlike."
"Yes, and because they are so childlike in--above all--the freedom oftheir speech, what I want to say of them, just this one time, is themore to their honor: that in my _whole_ life I've never heard themspeak one word against anybody."
"Not even Cupid?"
"Ah-h-h! that's a cruel joke, and false! That true Cupid, he's anassassin; while that child, he's f
aultless?"
The speaker really said "fauklezz," and it was a joy to Chester to hearher at last fall unwittingly into a Creole accent. "Well, anyhow," heled on, "the four lived together; and if I guess right your motherbecame, to all this joy-ride company, as much their heroine as yourfather was their hero."
"'Tis true!"
"But your father's coming back from France--it couldn't save thebusiness?"
"Alas, no! Even together, he and mamma--and you know what a strongbusinezz partner a French wife can be--they could not save it. Both ofthem were, I think, more artist than merchant, and when all that kindof businezz began to be divorce' from art and married tomachinery"--the narrator made a sad gesture.
"_Kultur_ against culture, was it? and your father not the sort tochange masters."
"True again. But tha'z not all; hardly was it half. One thing besidewas the miz-conduct of an agent, the man who lately"--a silent smile.
"What?--sold your aunts that manuscript?"
"Yes. But he didn' count the most. Oh, the whole businezz, exceptpapa's, became, as we say--give me the word!"
"Americanized?"
"No, papa he always refused to call it that. Mr. Chester, he used tosay that those two marvellouz blessings, machinery, democracy, they arein one thing too much alike; they are, at first--say it, you."
"Vulgarizing?"
The Flower of the Chapdelaines Page 12
