VI.
MEN CAN BE BETTER THAN THEIR LAWS.
An hour later, when the black maid returned from an errand, she found hermistress at the head of the stairs near the Englishman's door, talking insuppressed tones to Camille Ducour, who, hat in hand, seemed to have justdropped in and to be just going out again. He went, and Attalie said toher maid that he was "so good" and was going to come and sit up all nightwith the sick man.
The next morning the maid--and the neighborhood--was startled to hearthat the cotton buyer had died in the night. The physician called and gavea certificate of death without going up to the death chamber.
The funeral procession was short. There was first the carriage with thepriest and the acolytes; then the hearse; then a carriage in which sat thecotton buyer's clerk,--he had had but one,--his broker, and two men ofthat singular sort that make it a point to go to everybody's funeral; thena carriage occupied by Attalie's other lodgers, and then, in a carriagebringing up the rear, were Camille Ducour and Madame Brouillard. She alonewept, and, for all we have seen, we yet need not doubt her tears weregenuine. Such was the cortege. Oh! also, in his private vehicle, drivenby himself, was a very comfortable and genteel-looking man, whom neitherCamille nor Attalie knew, but whom every other attendant at the funeralseemed to regard with deference. While the tomb was being sealed Camillesidled up to the broker and made bold to ask who the stranger was. Attaliedid not see the movement, and Camille did not tell her what the brokersaid.
Late in the next afternoon but one Camille again received word fromAttalie to call and see her in all haste. He found her in the Englishman'sfront room. Five white men were sitting there with her. They not onlylooked amused, but plainly could have looked more so but for therestraints of rank and station. Attalie was quite as visibly frightened.Camille's knees weakened and a sickness came over him as he glanced aroundthe group. For in the midst sat the stranger who had been at the funeral,while on his right sat two, and on his left two, men, the terror of whosepresence we shall understand in a moment.
"Mr. Ducour," said the one who had been at the funeral, "as friends of Mr.[Englishman] we desire to express our satisfaction at the terms of hislast will and testament. We have had a long talk with Madame Brouillard;but for myself, I already know his wish that she should have whatever hemight leave. But a wish is one thing; a will, even a nuncupative will bypublic act, is another and an infinitely better and more effective thing.But we wish also to express our determination to see that you are nothindered in the execution of any of the terms of this will, whosegenuineness we, of course, do not for a moment question." He looked aboutupon his companions. Three of them shook their heads gravely; but thefourth, in his over-zeal, attempted to, say "No," and burst into a laugh;whereupon they all broadly smiled, while Camille looked ghastly. Thespeaker resumed.
"I am the custodian of all Mr. [Englishman's] accounts and assets. Thisgentleman is a judge, this one is a lawyer,--I believe you know them allby sight,--this one is a banker, and this one--a--in fact, a detective. Wewish you to feel at all times free to call upon any or all of us foradvice, and to bear in mind that our eyes are ever on you with apositively solicitous interest. You are a busy man, Mr. Ducour, livinglargely by your wits, and we must not detain you longer. We are glad thatyou are yourself to receive fifteen hundred dollars. We doubt not you havedetermined to settle the affairs of the estate without other remuneration,and we not merely approve but distinctly recommend that decision. The taskwill involve an outlay of your time and labor, for which fifteen hundreddollars will be a generous, a handsome, but not an excessive remuneration.You will be glad to know there will still be something left for MadameBrouillard. And now, Mr. Ducour,"--he arose and approached the pallidscamp, smiling benevolently,--"_remember_ us as your friends, who will_watch_ you"--he smote him on the shoulder with all the weight of his openpalm--"with no _ordinary_ interest. Be assured you shall get your fifteenhundred, and Attalie shall have the rest, which--as Attalie tells me shehas well known for years--will be about thirty thousand dollars.Gentlemen, our dinner at the lake will be waiting. Good-day, Mr. Ducour.Good-day, Madame Brouillard. Have no fear. Mr. Ducour is going to renderyou full justice,--without unnecessary delay,--in solid cash."
And he did.
Strange True Stories of Louisiana Page 44
