A Little Girl in Old St. Louis

by Amanda M. Douglas

  CHAPTER XIII

  PASSING YEARS

  Renee de Longueville was fifteen and very fair to look upon, if not asbeautiful as Madame Marchand, or perhaps as some of the belles of thetown. She was slight and not very tall, and her hair had not grown muchdarker. Her eyes kept their soft wondering expression, sometimes acurious depth that told of vehement emotions, ardent joys and a capacityfor suffering. But most people looking at the gay young face when itsmiled would only have read archness and mirth and a great capacity forenjoyment.

  Some curious events had been happening. The colonies had beaten Englandand won their freedom, their recognition. From the Atlantic Ocean to theMississippi River it was all America. This side of the river it wasSpain still, a kind of French Spain. Commandant Cruzat was well-likedand very social. Madame was charming. There were balls at the GovernmentHouse and at the handsome old Chouteau residence, that had been improvedyear by year. A long gallery ran around two sides above the first story,and it made a delightful place for dancers. The roof was high, with bothends cut off as it were, broken by two chimneys and two dormer windows.Downstairs a broad piazza also, and here the gentlemen would sit andsmoke and discuss business and the changes that were going on aroundthem, while within, Madame Chouteau dispensed charming hospitality.

  St. Louis was still in an idyllic state, gay, joyous, friendly andhospitable, with much simplicity of living. Others besides the Chouteaushad enlarged their borders. Gaspard Denys had built two rooms and raisedthe roof of his house so as to make a storeroom and one little chamber,where Chloe, the slave, slept. Mere Lunde still took charge of thehouse, but Denys insisted she should have some help, and then noquestion was made of buying one. They were well treated and had goodhomes, and were not overworked.

  One of the new rooms was Uncle Gaspard's, the other Renee's, while herold one was transferred to Mere Lunde, who at first thought she couldnever sleep on a bedstead. And Renee's room was quite a marvel ofprettiness. Great strips of white birch bark on which dainty pictureswere worked went from floor to ceiling, while between was soft grayplaster. Sometimes this was stained in various colors. Then there wereshelves about on which were displayed odd bits of Indian work--a bowl, avase, or a pretty basket. Many of these came from Mattawissa's hands andnot a few from Wawataysee's.

  Now Madame Marchand had a dainty little girl, christened Renee. Hergracious air, her refinement and beauty, and her romantic story as well,had made her many friends, and M. Marchand was one of the thrivingbusiness men, very much honored and respected. Not infrequently he andGaspard were called into council on some important question.

  And though the palisades and gates and towers were still looked upon asa means of defence, the inhabitants ventured to enlarge their borderswithout. Several bands of friendly Indians had settled toward thenorthern and western ends. Parties no longer hesitated to wander throughthe woods, and the children often went out to pick wild strawberriesthat grew so plentifully all about. Then there were grapes and adelicious kind of wild plum, pears and apples, and melons cultivated inthe gardens, with various small fruits.

  Renee de Longueville had come in possession of quite a fortune; atleast, Uncle Gaspard held it in trust for her. And it made her quite aperson of consequence.

  Antoine Freneau had grown really afraid to carry on his illicit tradeafter the capture of the Red Rover. She had stores for him, and forweeks he trembled when he saw two or three men approaching his cabin. Hewas old and he resolved he would do no more at it. This he tried toexplain to those who came for a supply. True, he brought up his whiskeyand sold it as long as it lasted, but unfortunately the Indians used tosecuring their indulgence in that manner would not believe it. Theybrought furs, often stolen from the traders, and insisted that he shouldexchange. They always came after nightfall, and sped away again in thedark.

  Angry at length at their repeated efforts, he would not open his door.The bar within was very strong and he felt himself secure. But the oldstanchion had decayed at the ground point, and one night it gave way attheir united efforts.

  Antoine found himself defenceless against the angry mob. They bound himand began to ransack the place. Bringing to light one jug of whiskey,they were confident there was more. They searched every corner, everynook, but in vain. And then they fell upon the old man, beat him andtortured him until he was limp and lifeless they thought, when, taking apack of the most valuable furs, they decamped.

  It was not until noon of the next day that some one in passing noted theunusual appearance and halted at the cabin. The old man lay on thefloor. He had revived from unconsciousness, but his hands were securelyfastened behind him, his face was bruised and swollen and everything indisorder. He gave the alarm and some kindly neighbors came to hisassistance. Then another went for Gaspard Denys.

  Perhaps nothing could have happened that would have rehabilitatedAntoine Freneau in the pity and good will of his fellow-men sooner.Unsocial and under suspicion for years, asking and taking nothing fromthem, seldom giving them a good word, his helplessness appealed now totheir sympathy. Gaspard had his wounds and bruises attended to, thehouse made a little orderly, and found a slave woman who would care forhim. That he had been robbed was evident. Even the puncheon floor hadbeen torn up, and disclosed a sort of pit in which something hadevidently been stored.

  Old Doctor Montcrevier came, but he shook his head doubtfully. The oldman breathed and occasionally opened heavy, wandering eyes. But on thethird day he rallied.

  "Gaspard Denys!" he moaned. "Send--tell him," and then he lapsed awayagain.

  Denys came and watched with him through the night. Several times hisname escaped the old man's lips. Gaspard gave him some brandy he hadbrought.

  He opened his eyes again and gazed around piteously, resting themfinally upon Gaspard.

  "I cannot think," rubbing his forehead in a dazed fashion. "They wereIndians. They wanted rum. I had none, only one jug I kept in case--incase I should need it. I am an old man, Gaspard. They--they beat me."

  "Yes. Can you tell who they were? No strange Indians have been seenabout."

  Even here the old man's cunning came uppermost. He would not betrayhimself. He shook his head slowly.

  "Some marauding parties. Perhaps from the river."

  "The river! See if they are coming!" starting up in affright.

  "No one is coming," in a reassuring tone.

  "Gaspard, am I hurt much? Oh, help me! I do not want to die. I hatedeath! I want to live;" and he tried to raise himself, but fell backexhausted.

  "Would you like to have the priest?" Gaspard could think of no other aidin this extremity.

  "No! no! I will not die! They come to your deathbed. Stay with meyourself."

  "What can I do?"

  He was silent a long while. His breath came slowly and with effort, andshudders ran over him.

  "Renee," he said presently. "You have the child, Gaspard?"

  "Yes; you gave her to me."

  "If you had died--your money----"

  "I had made a will. Everything would have gone to her."

  "That was right--right. Gaspard, there is some gold--is any onelistening?" moving his eyes in a frightened way.

  "No, no!"

  "There is some gold and silver put away. You might better take it.Thieves may come again. Carry me to the chimney."

  He was a heavy burden. Gaspard put him down on some blankets.

  "See! Count the stones. The third stone." The eyes were wild in theireagerness.

  "This!" pointing. "Take it out."

  Gaspard worked with both strength and energy. It was fitted in verysecurely, but it gave way at length.

  "The next one."

  When that came out a small iron box was visible, and Gaspard worked itloose.

  "Take it with you. It will be hers when I die. There is no one else. Butnot until--I have the key--and--but I am not going to die!" with fierceenergy.

  "No, no," soothingly. "Take a little of this cordial."

  But the signs of death
were there and Gaspard read them truly. Could hewarn? That was for the priest.

  "You are very good." His voice was much shaken, and shadows seemed towaver over his eyes. "And I was not good to you, Gaspard Denys, in thatold time. You were but a boy. You had your fortune to make. She lovedyou and I meant to wean her away--and--I did not want her to know how Iwas--trading. The Count fell in love with her, though when the matter wasmost settled he wrung a dowry out of me, curse him! But she was aCountess. And he should have kept the child. What did he mean by sendingher here?"

  He had made many pauses and now lay back exhausted, his face growinggrayer. Gaspard roused the nurse.

  "Go up to the church," he said, "the priest's house, and bring some one.Quick! The man is dying."

  It was some time before he roused again.

  "Renee," he murmured, "you will be a great lady in France. Your mother'smother was, and fled away because a king loved her. A king!" He laughedshrilly and a rattle came in his throat. "And you must go back to them,to your own kind. This wild life is not for you. As for that youngstripling, he is dancing at the Guinolee and singing love songs topretty girls. Thou art not the only pretty girl in St. Louis, Renee----"

  Then there was a long silence. Once or twice Gaspard thought him dead,but he started and muttered both French and Indian words. It was nearmidnight when the good father came, and he shook his head sadly.

  Gaspard roused Antoine a little.

  "I fear it is too late," in a regretful tone, while a look of pitycrossed his face. "Still we must try to the last moment. AntoineFreneau, it is I, Pere Lemoine. Listen! Death is near. Dost thou repentof thy sins, which have been many, doubtless, hidden from man but notescaping the eye of God? There may yet be mercy vouchsafed."

  The dying man clutched the blanket and stared dully, yet he seemed tolisten.

  "Oh, yes, yes!" he cried suddenly. "At St. Anne's down the river. Yes,we both confessed----"

  Whether he understood any of the service was doubtful, but the goodpriest did his duty according to his conscience and the times. Butbefore he had ended the last prayer both knew he was dead, and hadpassed without a struggle.

  "I will stay the rest of the night with you," said the priest. "Andsince you have the child, I suppose you will be the proper person totake charge. It is supposed the old man had not a little wealth--if themarauders did not take it all away."

  The woman came in to prepare the body. Round the old man's neck was astrong bit of wire like cord, and a key. Gaspard took this. It fittedthe box.

  After daylight they took a survey of the place. There were some firearmsstored away, blankets, furs that were motheaten and of little value,some Indian habiliments; but it was evident the place had been prettythoroughly ransacked.

  So they buried Antoine Freneau, and for some days it was the sensationof the little town. Gaspard Denys now took the formal guardianship ofRenee de Longueville. He had the record of her mother's marriage, herbirth and christening. Some of the goods were worth saving, the otherswere distributed among the poorest of the Indians about.

  In an old chest of curious workmanship Gaspard found a false bottom. Inthis compartment were some laces and embroideries, a wedding veil thatRenee's grandmother had doubtless worn, the certificate of her marriageto Antoine Freneau and considerable valuable jewelry, with some unsetstones. And when they examined the strong box it proved an unexpectedfortune for Renee de Longueville.

  Then the old house was suffered to go to ruin. Some Indians wentthere for shelter, but soon left. They had been roused at midnightby unearthly noises and seen the figure of old Freneau in itsgrave-clothes; so the story gained credence that the place was haunted.Even after it had fallen into an unsightly heap the mysterious noiseswere heard and no one would pass it after nightfall.

  Renee was very much shocked at first. She had not loved her grandfather,but there had always been a curious pity in her tender soul for him inwhat she considered his loneliness. She went in the church and prayedfor his soul, for she knew God was merciful. Had He not watched overUncle Gaspard and sent him safely home?

  And now Renee de Longueville was quite an heiress and had some reallybeautiful heirloom jewels, besides the laces and the exquisite veil. Hergrandmother's people must have been of some account. But no one wouldhave imagined Antoine Freneau a handsome or attractive young man, and afavorite among the pretty girls of Old New Orleans. The miser-likepropensities had grown with the years, and he had found, he thought, aneasy way of making money by being in league with the river pirates onthe one hand and roving bands of Indians on the other. He had skilfullyevaded detection if not always suspicion, and now that he had sufferedalmost martyrdom in the end, the generous, cordial people were not thekind to fling up these vague accusations.

  So the sorrow was over and it was winter again, full of merriment andgayety, and lovers wooing young girls. Elise Renaud had been married andSophie was quite a belle. Rosalie Pichou was the mother of two babiesand had a comfortable home, though her husband traded with New Orleansand was often gone months at a time. They had to guard against the riverpirates, who frequently sallied out from some peaceful-looking covert,hidden by woods or a bend in the stream. Occasionally there were Indianslying in wait, but the men always went well armed, and generally inquite a fleet, with the goods, the wheat and corn in barges orflat-bottomed boats, with several canoes for swiftness if they saw achance of chastising their enemies. It was comparatively easy to go downthe river, and as each boat had a mast and sails, they sped alongbeautifully in a favorable wind. But coming back was generally thetrial, as the tide was against them. Sometimes two boatmen would walkalong the river bank and pull a rope like the later towing line, whilethose on the boat steered and with long poles kept the prow from runninginto the bank and avoided the snags.

  But before Christmas all the boats that were expected had come in; theothers would remain at New Orleans until more favorable weather. Andthis year there was to be a grand ball at the Government House beforethe king's ball took place, for in the last trip up the river severalyoung men had arrived. One was to be secretary to the Commandant. Twowere on their way to Canada and would start when the spring opened.

  Sophie Renaud had run in, full of the news.

  "And you have so many pretty things to wear!" she cried half enviously."Your uncle always seems to know, while you might as well ask a stick asto ask my father to bring you home anything worth while. And the prettyfrock Aunt Barbe sent me last summer is all in shreds. Ma mere declaresI ought to have fawnskin, like an Indian girl. And did you see MadameMarchand's lovely feather cape on Sunday? It has a row of bluebirdfeathers around it that are dazzling."

  Yes, Renee had seen the cape often while it was being made. Three yearsit had taken Wawataysee to collect the feathers. She had so manybeautiful ideas.

  "It would set me crazy to do such a thing!"

  Renee laughed. Sophie always flew from one point to another, anddelighted in attire.

  "Wawataysee is coming to see what will be most suitable," returnedRenee.

  "And shall I have to wear the old white silk Cousin Guion gave me? Ithas been washed, but mother has pressed it like new. And one of theyoung men is very handsome. I saw him as I passed the court-house.Laflamme I believe he is called, and I predict he will set all thegirls' hearts in a flame if he dances anything as he looks. I hope weall get a chance. And oh, what fun the king's ball will be! I just hopeI shall be a queen!"

  Renee tossed her pretty head. For the girls in those days gossipedpretty much as they do now, and were just as eager for pleasure.

  Andre Valbonais dropped in as he often did. He was a great favorite, andnow that he was doing so well under the very eyes of M. Chouteau, hecould afford to have a steady sweetheart. Early marriages were much invogue, and though a dot was very good, many a nice girl was married withonly some household articles and bedding.

  Truth to tell, Andre had been very much captivated with Madame Marchand.Her bravery through those wearisome days and nights of
the return, hersweetness and patience with the little one, had made her an angel to beadored. M. Marchand's gratitude knew no bounds; indeed, he had beentreated with brotherly affection by them both. Suddenly his eyes hadbeen opened. It was an insult to any sweet, honorable woman to covether, especially when she loved her husband as Wawataysee did. And Andrestruggled to cast the sin out of his heart. She never even dreamed ofsuch a thing, and for worlds he would not have incurred her displeasure.

  But this it was that had made him care less for the young girls about.He could not offer any of them a heart that was half another's.

  So in a certain fashion he had been devoted to Renee because she wassuch a child, and there was no danger he believed.

  "There will be a great time, I suppose, at the ball," he said, sittingby the splendid log fire at Gaspard Denys'. "One of my cousins is todance with the new Secretary, Monsieur Rive. He came to the mill withthe Governor."

  M. Cruzat was often styled that, but the real Governor of all Louisianahad his capital at New Orleans. This was the Lieutenant.

  "And is he very handsome?"

  "Oh, good-looking enough," indifferently. "M. Laflamme will take thewinning card. Renee, do not get a heartbreak over him. Take warning."

  "I shall not get a heartbreak over anybody," with a saucy smile.

  "Ah, your time has not yet come!" blowing out wreaths of delicate smoke.

  "Andre, I want you to dance the first dance with me."

  "I am at your service, ma'm'selle. But three new young men and a prettygirl--you do me great honor," and he made a bow, with an odd, amusedsmile.

  "Do you suppose I am going to stand around and cast wistful eyes atthese strangers?" she cried with pretty, mock indignation. "And I shallbe in the very first dance, too."

  "I am made supremely happy, ma'm'selle."

  "And if there is any--if you see me looking--well, disconsolate, you willask me again."

  There was a charming imperiousness in her tone.

  "I will obey, ma'm'selle, with great delight."

  "And--Andre, who will be the prettiest girl there?"

  "Merci! Little one, how can I make a choice?"

  "I will tell you: Lucie Aubry, and she will dance with the Secretary thefirst thing."

  "Lucie Aubry has not all the beauty of St. Louis."

  "Oh, if she had, what would be left for us?" and Renee made a mirthfullydespairing face.

  "You need not feel alarmed."

  "Oh, I don't," with enchanting gayety. "In the first place, I am nottall enough, not grand enough. Then my hair should be raven black, andit is such a funny no-color."

  "It is very handsome," he replied decidedly. "Sometimes in the sun itlooks as if it had gold dust sprinkled over it. And then I've seen itlook as if the top of every wave was touched with silver."

  "That is very beautiful, Andre. I will try to recall the compliment whenit looks to me like a gray-brown. And my nose, see----"

  "Ma'm'selle, you wrinkle it up and it makes you look piquant, saucy. Youcouldn't make it bad if you tried."

  "Oh, yes! Look!" She put her finger to the tip of it and gave it a tinyhitch and then laughed.

  "That shows your curved lips and your lovely teeth. Even that wouldn'tmake you a fright."

  "Oh, Andre, how good and comforting you are! But Wawataysee, with herlittle Indian blood, is a hundred times handsomer. Only--I am very glad Isuit you and Uncle Gaspard. He thinks I grow like my mother."

  She had been half-dancing round the room in the blaze of the logs.Families often kept no other light. Now she came and sat down oppositehim, demure as a nun. She had so many fascinating, changeful ways. Hehad always considered her a child, but now she was a charming younggirl. This was one of the places where Valbonais felt entirely at home,because there was no danger of being misinterpreted by any watchfulmamma. He was not quite ready to marry.

  Denys came in and pushed his seat near Renee, who leaned her head on hisshoulder. Now the golden lights shone in her hair--not yellow-gold, butthe richer, deeper color--and a soft rose tint played over her cheek,while her mouth dimpled at the corners as if she was amused atsomething. There would not be many prettier girls at the ball, Valbonaisthought.

  Wawataysee looked over the "treasures" that one way and another had comeinto the possession of Gaspard Denys. True, it was a kind of idyllictime in the history of the town, so far as regarded society. Some of thefamilies had a gown or a mantilla of lace and fringe that had beenhanded down, voyaged from Canada, or more directly from France and NewOrleans. Such articles were only taken out on great occasions, a fewtimes in the year. But the woman in plain attire had just as delightfula time if she was vivacious and sparkling and a good dancer.

  For this was the chief amusement of the women. The men had theirshooting matches, not only as a pastime but a good practice, where to bean excellent marksman was often a protection against Indians; but thehunts served to provide much of the family living. Many of these peoplehad come of the better class peasant stock, who from time immemorial haddanced on the greensward on fete days, and not infrequently on Sundayafternoon, their only holidays.

  There were no theatres, few books, and many of the elder people readwith so much difficulty that they lost interest in it. Oftener legendsand family stories were told over on summer evenings when old and youngsat out in the moonlight, ate little spiced cakes and drank birch beer.