Bayard half expected her to follow this line, but he hoped she would not. In order to prevent it, he began to ask her questions about herself. “Why are you not married?” he asked.
“I will be one day, but God has not sent me a man yet.”
“How old are you, Fleur?”
“Eighteen. How old are you, Bayard?”
“I’m twenty-five. My sister is a year younger than I.”
“What is she like?”
“She’s very beautiful. She has blonde hair and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. Fleur,” he said, changing the subject, “what do you do for fun out here?”
“For fun? Oh, sometimes I go to the dances, me. There’s music there. It is a long way, though, and because of ma mere, I have not gone lately.”
“Don’t you get lonely out here, Fleur, all by yourself with just your mother?”
“No.”
“You don’t? I would think you might.”
“No, I have Jesus.”
The calmness of her reply and the enormity of it stunned Bayard d’Or. He could not think of anything to say. Fleur turned to him and touched his arm. She asked, “How do you live? Do you have Jesus as your friend?”
“No, I don’t.”
“How do you live without Him? I can never understand. I have know Him since I was nine years old, me.”
Bayard had never given a great deal of thought to religion. He had gone through the formality of it when he was younger, but even that he had given up in recent years. He was not a hypocrite and knew that his lifestyle was not pleasing to God. He saw that Fleur was waiting for an answer, and finally he looked up at the stars, at the magnificence of the display in the heavens, and thought of the God who had made them all. There had never been any doubt in his mind about the existence of God. He had merely refused to give too much thought to it. Finally he turned to her and said, “I envy you, Fleur.”
“You envy me? Why’s that? You have a family. You have every-thing that most men want.”
“But I don’t have God. When I called out to Him after that snake bit me, I knew that.”
She smiled. “Maybe God, He send the snake to get your attention. Now,” she said, and her eyes were warm, “that God has saved you, you will love Him.”
Bayard dropped his head. “I hope so, Fleur. I never have. I think it’s time.”
Chapter fourteen
As soon as Simone entered the house, Agnes, the housemaid, met her and said, “There’s a man who’s been waiting to see the master.”
“To see my father? Is he here?”
“No, he and Madam left to go to visit the Dubres. They won’t be back until late tonight, they said.”
Simone pulled off her hat and put her parasol in the teak holder. “Why did you ask him to wait?”
“I didn’t, but he insisted, Miss Simone. He’s a very rough sort of man. I can’t think what he would want with any of you.”
Simone bit her lip for a moment and said, “Well, I’ll see him.”
“He’s waiting out back. I didn’t want to let him into the house. He’s not that kind of person.”
Simone moved down the long hallway and then through the kitchen. When she stepped outside, she saw a man leaning against the live oak tree. He was wiry, wore the coarsest sort of clothes, and did not look like a tradesman.
“I’m Miss d’Or. I understand you want to see my father?”
“I got a note for him.”
“A note from whom?”
“A young man. I think his name is Bayard.”
“My brother!” Hope shot through Simone. “He’s been missing for a week.”
Indeed, the whole family had been almost in despair. Ever since the altercation with Louis, Bayard had simply dropped out of sight. When Louis had gone by the rooming house, the owner said brusquely, “He left one day and didn’t come back. He couldn’t pay, anyway.” Since that time they had waited anxiously, and more than once Louis had said to Renee, “I was too hard on him. I shouldn’t have driven him out of the house.”
Simone said quickly, “The note’s for my father?”
“That is what he say.”
“He’s not here, but I need to see the letter.”
The man fished in his shirt pocket, came out with a brown piece of paper, and handed it to her. Simone opened the letter and read it quickly:
Father, I have run into trouble. I was in the swamp doing a painting, and I was bitten by a huge cottonmouth. I nearly died and was unconscious for several days. I don’t know how to tell you to get to this place. The people taking care of me have been very kind. Their name is Avenall. The man who bears this note is named Lonnie Despain. If you would pay him, I think he will bring you to me. I’m sorry for all that happened.
Simone looked up at the man and said, “This says my brother has been hurt.”
“Yes. He was bit by a moccasin.” Lonnie shrugged his trim shoul-ders. “He nearly die, Fleur tell me.”
“Who is Fleur?”
“Fleur Avenall. She stay with her mother ver’ deep in the bayou.”
“But I need to get to him.”
“You can’t ride into the swamp. I can take you in my pirogue.”
“Can you bring him out, the two of us?”
“Oh, certainement. Is easy.”
“I’ll pay you for your trouble. Let me go tell the servants where I’m going. Can you leave now?”
“Now is good. I have finished my business here in town.”
Simone went inside and told Agnes the news with some agita-tion. “I’ve got to go. I think I’ll be back before my parents get here. If I’m not, give them this note, and tell them I’ve gone to get Bayard.” She did not wait for an answer but picked up her reticule and looked inside it. She saw that she had sufficient money. She put on her hat and stepped quickly down the hall and out the front door. “Robert,” she called, “hitch up the horses.”
“Yes, ma’am, you going to town?”
“No, a man has come saying my brother has been ill. We’re going to get him.”
“Yes, Miss, that’s good news!” Robert disappeared around the cor-ner, and Simone returned to speak again with Lonnie Despain.
“I’m having the team hitched to my carriage. How long will it take to get there?”
“It ain’t too far, Miss. You follow me as far as my place. Then we get into my little boat, and I take you to where Fleur and her mother live. They are fine people.”
Simone waited impatiently, and when Robert drove the carriage out, she got in without waiting for him to step down and help her. “Follow this man, Robert.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll just do that.”
As soon as the team stopped, Simone opened the door and stepped out. Looking around, she saw that Despain had dismounted and was putting his horse into a small corral that was fenced with wooden rails. He stripped off the saddle and slapped the gelding on the rump, then came back, locking the gate behind him. “This is my place,” he said. He gestured toward an enormous body of water and said, “The swamp. We cannot go farther in the carriage.”
Indeed, Despain’s house was right on the edge of the tremendous bayou. Few roads led into it, and the only means of transportation was the little wooden boat sitting on the bank. “We go now if you ready, Miss.”
“Yes, I’m ready.” Simone turned and said, “Robert, you wait here, no matter how long it takes. I’ll be back with Bayard as soon as possible.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll wait right here.”
Simone went down to the bank and watched as Despain pushed the small craft down the shore. “You get in the front, Miss, up there.”
“Are you sure it’s safe?”
“It ain’t never done kill me yet.”
This was not much comfort to Simone. She got in carefully and felt the boat move beneath her feet. Dropping to her hands and knees, she crawled to the end and then sat down flat on the bottom. It was a very shallow boat and looked entirely unstable.
She
felt the boat move forward and then give a lurch. She grasped the gunnel, but Despain assured her, “It’s real safe. You sit still now. Me, I push.”
Turning around, she saw that the man had picked up a long pole. He shoved it against the bottom, and the pirogue shot forward. She resisted the impulse to cry out.
Evidently Lonnie Despain was an expert boatman, for he sent the small craft skimming across the water. The swamp seemed to go on forever, and they passed canals, sand spits, willow islands, and huge cypress trees. The mosquitoes came then in swarms, and Simone slapped her face and her neck.
“The mosquitoes are bad, yes.”
“How much farther is it?”
“Not too far. Yet quite a ways too.”
At this enigmatic response, Simone grew quiet. The sun was high over the cypress. They passed sweet-smelling hyacinths, and the air grew moist and cool underneath the shade of the giant trees. Once they passed a whole island covered with buttercups and bluebonnets. She saw enormous black and yellow grasshoppers flying, and when they landed in the water, sometimes fish came up and took them. Finally Lonnie said, “There is Fleur’s house—right over there.”
They had come out of a large body of water into a narrow inlet. The land appeared then, and fifty yards from the water a cabin sat beneath some cypress trees. Smoke rose up from the chimney, and Simone waited until Despain drove the boat up onto the land. She stepped out, and the black mud covered her shoes, but she reached down, pulled them off, and waded to shore.
“The rain, she make the ground wet,” Despain remarked as he came out of the boat, agile as a monkey, and pulled it up onto dry land. “See? There’s Miss Fleur. She hear us coming.”
Carrying her shoes in one hand and her reticule in the other, Simone went toward the cabin, her eyes fixed on the young woman. When she was closer, the young woman said, “Hello.”
“Hello. I’m Simone d’Or. My brother is here, isn’t he?”
“Oui, he is here. He was sleeping, but I think he want to wake up for you.”
Simone studied the girl, noting the rough, masculine attire, but only for a moment. As soon as the girl opened the cabin door, Simone stepped inside and saw the bed against the wall and Bayard swinging his feet over the edge.
“Bayard!” she said. She ran toward him, and he stood up and met her. She put her arms around him, noticing the bandage on his left forearm.
“Thank God you’re all right! We’ve been so worried!”
“I couldn’t get word to you any sooner. I was unconscious.”
“Are you all right?”
“Arm is a little bit stiff, but basically I’m all right.” He turned Simone to face the young woman. “This is Fleur Avenall. She found me out in the swamp just after the snake bit me, and she and Lonnie brought me back to this cabin. I would have died if it hadn’t been for Fleur.”
Simone said fervently, “I am so grateful to you, and my family will be also.”
Fleur seemed disturbed by the expression of gratitude. “If you give me your shoes, I’ll clean them off.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary. I’d just get them muddy getting back in the boat.”
“My mother, she is not feeling well today, or she would get up to meet you.”
“Mrs. Avenall is not in good health, Simone.”
Even as he spoke, the door opened and Gabrielle Avenall stepped out. She looked almost ghostly, but as Fleur introduced her, she said, “You are welcome. Sit down and have some café au lait.”
Simone took one seat and Gabrielle took the other. Bayard dragged up a box, set it on end, and sat down. He told Simone how he had gone to the bayou to paint and had gotten lost. “When I saw that snake slithering off and knew he had gotten me in the arm, I pretty well gave up.”
Simone was shaking, she was so happy to see her brother. She put her hand on his wrist and said, “We’ve all been worried sick. We thought of everything in the world that could’ve happened to you.”
Fleur brought the café au lait in cups that did not match. It was thick and strong, and the rich odor filled the small cabin. Fleur put her hand on her mother’s thin shoulder and said, “Your brother does not know God, but he is meeting Him, I think, now.”
Startled, Simone gave her a quick look. “Why—that’s good,” she said, not knowing what else to say.
“God saved him,” Gabrielle remarked. “So now he belongs to God.”
Simone looked at Bayard, who reddened. “I—I think she’s right, Simone. When I was dying out there, I could feel the poison of that snake killing me. I called on God. The first time I had done anything like that.” He turned then and smiled at Fleur. “And then He sent this young woman to save me. She saved my life.”
Simone impulsively got up and went to Fleur. She took the young woman’s hand and suddenly kissed it, tears in her eyes. “How can my family ever thank you, Fleur?”
“We must all thank the good God and give glory to Him. He is the one who saves.”
Bayard saw the strange look on his sister’s face and laughed aloud. “You’ll have to get used to it, Simone. Mrs. Avenall and her daughter are very close to God.” He sobered then and chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. “I think I am too. I don’t believe I can ever be the same again.”
“That’s so good to hear, Bayard.”
“I’ve made resolutions in the past, but it took that snake to wake me up.”
Fleur laughed. “There was one snake that got Eve and Adam into trouble, but now God, He uses another snake to bring one of His own back to Him. I think that’s very funny.”
Bayard d’Or smiled at the girl thoughtfully. She was like no one he had ever seen or experienced, but he knew that she was right, and something good was going to come out of that terrible experience.
Simone sat quietly listening as Gabrielle spoke of her life with God. This woman who was obviously dying showed no fear at all, which Simone found intimidating. Finally Gabrielle said, “I must lie down again.”
At once Bayard stood and offered her his hand. The sick woman put her hand in his. Lifting it to his lips, Bayard kissed it and said, “I pray that God will give you peace.”
“He’s already done that, Monsieur d’Or, and now I think He has given you the peace as well.”
Fleur took her mother into the bedroom. While the two were wait-ing for her to return, Simone said, “I’ve never met people like these.”
“Neither have I. I didn’t know there were such people.”
As soon as Fleur came out, Simone asked, “Would you think us terribly rude if we left? I need to get Bayard back to town. My parents will be home soon.”
Fleur nodded. “Oui, madamoiselle. You must go tell them.”
Simone stood before the young woman and said, “Please, let us do something for you. There must be something you need.”
Fleur seemed surprised. “Why, no. We have all we need, Miss d’Or.”
Simone did not know how to answer. She was accustomed to being the one who gave things to people. There had been very few things she could not have simply by asking for them, but this young woman—poorly dressed, living in a small cabin with no luxuries— was complete and self-assured. It disturbed Simone, and she shook her head. “I can but thank you now, but we’ll find some way to show our gratitude.”
She turned and walked to the door and stopped. She turned to see that Bayard had gone to stand before Fleur. “How do people say good-bye, Fleur?”
“Why, they shake hands,” Fleur said, smiling, “and they say ‘Good-bye.’”
“Is that all?” Bayard smiled put his hand out, and when she extended hers, he took it and held it. “Good-bye, then.”
“Good-bye, Monsieur d’Or.”
He said, “Is that all there is to it? It doesn’t seem like enough.”
Suddenly Fleur seemed shy. She was unaccustomed to such inter-actions. “You’re holding my hand, Bayard.”
“Am I? Well, I’d like to do more than that.” He covered her hand with his left one
and said, “I will be seeing you again, now that I know the way.”
“No, you will not come back here.”
“You’re mistaken. I’ll be coming to check on you and on your mother. But for now, good-bye.”
They left the cabin, and Fleur followed them outside. Despain was sitting on a chopping block, whittling. He closed his knife, got up, and asked, “Are you ready?”
“We’re ready. Will that boat hold all three of us?”
“What you think, I make a bad boat, me? You get in front, and Monsieur, you get in the middle, and I’ll pole us out of here.”
The three got in the boat, and although it moved more slowly and was sunk almost to the level of the gunnel, it moved easily through the dark waters. Bayard looked back, and as he did it he said quietly, “I owe her my life, Simone.”
“Yes, you do. And they say you owe God your life.”
“I think they are right.”
They made a slow passage with the heavy load, but finally they landed at Despain’s small cabin. When they were all out and Despain had pulled the pirogue up on the bank, Simone reached into her reti-cule and drew forth some bills. She took several of them and handed them to the small man, who stared at them in surprise.
“Why, this is too much!”
“No, it’s worth every penny, and we thank you so much.”
“I’ll be coming back when I get on my feet,” Bayard said. “Can you take me back?”
“Certainement!”
Robert called out, “Good to see you, Mr. Bayard!”
“Good to see you, Robert. As a matter of fact, it’s good to see any-one.” He stepped slowly into the carriage and slumped into the seat. Simone got in, sat across from him, and closed the door. She saw that Bayard was still not himself. His face was pale, and he was trembling.
“Shall I go home, Miss?” Robert called.
Simone suddenly remembered that Bayard no longer lived at the house, but the altercation with her father seemed to have happened a long time ago. “Will you go home with me, Bayard?”
Bayard nodded. “Yes. Take me home, sister. I have a great deal of fence-mending to do. I don’t know what I’ll say to Father.”
Simone took Bayard’s hand in both of hers. “Tell him what hap-pened, and tell him that you are a new man. That’s what Fleur and her mother said, isn’t it?”
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