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"What about that picture you said your wife had of the girl? Madame Caron may not be easy to convince. You'd better let me have it to show her. Is it a good likeness?"
"'Fore G.o.d I don' know! I only reckon it is, 'cause Nelse took her, on sight, fo' Margeret's ghost, which shows it must be the plain image of her! I done been so upset since I got back home with Zekal I nevah had a minute to look ovah Rosa's b'longens', but the likeness is in that bundle somewhere; Rosa alles powerful careful o' that locket thing, an' kep' it put away; don't mind as I evah seen it but once, jest when we fust married. I'd a clean fo'got all 'bout it, only fo'
an accident--an' that's the woman now it was painted from."
He pointed to a window where Margeret stood outlined for an instant against the bright background.
"Don't look more like her now, I reckon," he continued, "all her trouble must a' changed her mightily, fo' the ole folks do say she was counted a beauty once. Little Rhoda went a'most crazy when some one stole the locket, so Rosa said; then by and by the gal what took it got scared--thought it was a hoodoo--an' fetched it back, but Rhoda gone away then. My Rosa took it an' kep' it faithful, waiten' fo' that chile to come back, but she nevah come back while Rosa lived."
Monroe was staring still at the figure of Margeret, seen dimly, now, through the window.
"Look here!" he said, sharply, "if the old man recognized the likeness, how comes it that the mother herself did not see it?"
"Why, Margeret she not get here till nex' day after Madame Caron's maid start down the river to take the cars fo' Savannah," explained Pluto. "Then Miss Gertrude come a visiten' an' fetch Margeret along.
Yo' see, sah, that woman done been made think her chile dead a long time ago, an' when Margeret went clean 'stracted the word went down to Larues that she dead or dyen'--one! any way my Rosa nevah know'd no different till Larues moved back from Georgy, so there wan't no one heah to 'dentify her, an' there wan't no one heah to let that gal know she _had_ a liven mammy."
Again Caroline called Pluto.
"Go on," said Monroe, "but get me the picture soon as you can. I leave in the morning."
"I be right heah with it in hour's time," promised Pluto; "don' reckon I can slip away any sooner, a sight o' quality folks a' comen'."
CHAPTER XXVI.
As Monroe entered the hall Judithe came down the stairs, a dainty vision in palest rose. She wore armlets and girdle of silver filagree, a silver comb in the dark tresses, and large filagree loops in her ears gave the beautiful face a half-oriental character.
Admire her though he must, he felt an impatience with her, a wonder that so beautiful a being, one so blest with all the material things of life, should forsake harmony, home, and her own land, for the rude contests where men fought, and plotted, and died--died ingloriously sometimes, for the plots and intrigues through which she claimed to find the only escape from ennui.
She saw him, hesitated an instant, and then came towards him, with a suggestion of daring in her eyes.
"I might as well hear the worst, first as last," she said, taking his arm. "Is not the veranda more cool than in here? Come, we shall see. I prefer to be out of hearing of the people while you lecture me for today's mishap."
She glanced up at him with a pretense of dread such as a child might show; she was pleased to be alluringly gracious, but he could feel that she was more nervous than she had ever shown herself before--the strain was telling on her. Her beautiful eyes were not so slumbrous as usual; they were brilliant as from some inward fever, and, though she smiled and met his sombre gaze with a challenge, she smothered a sigh under her light words.
"I shan't lecture you, Madame Caron; I have no right to interfere with what you call your--amus.e.m.e.nts," and he glanced down at her, grimly; "but I leave in the morning because by remaining longer I might gain knowledge which, in honor, I should feel bound to report."
"To Colonel--or, shall we say, General--McVeigh?"
He bent his head, and answered: "I have given you warning. He is my friend."
"And I?" she asked, glancing at him with a certain archness. He looked down at her, but did not speak.
"And I?" she repeated.
"No," he said, after a pause. "You, Madame, would have to be something more, or something less. The fates have decreed that it be less--so,"
he made a little gesture dismissing the subject. "Pardon me, but I did not mean to attack you in that fas.h.i.+on. I came to look for you to ask you a question relating to the very pretty, very clever, maid you had in New Orleans, and whom, I hear, you brought with you on your visit here."
"Oh! You are curious as to her--and you wish me to answer questions?"
"If you please, though it really does not matter to me. Are you aware that the woman was a runaway slave, and liable to recapture in this particular vicinity?"
"In this particular vicinity?" she repeated, questioningly.
"Yes, if Matthew Loring should once get suspicion of the fact that your maid was really his girl Rosa--no, Rhoda--it would be an awkward fact allied to the episode here today," and he made a gesture towards the library window they were just pa.s.sing.
"Come, we will go down the steps," she suggested. They did so, and were promenading under the trees, lantern lit, on the lawn, when Colonel McVeigh came out on the veranda and felt a momentary envy of Monroe, who was free from a host's duties. They were clear of the steps and of probable listeners before Judithe asked:
"Where did you get this information?"
"From a slave who wanted you warned that you without knowing it, are probably harboring the spy whom Captain Masterson spoke of today."
"Ah, a slave?" she remarked, thoughtfully; and the curious, intense gaze of Margeret was recalled to her, only to be followed by the memory of Pluto's anxiety that Louise should leave before the arrival of the Lorings; it was, then, without doubt, Pluto who gave the warning; but she remembered Zekal, and felt she had little to be anxious over.
"You probably are not aware," he continued, "what a very serious affair it is considered here to a.s.sist in hiding a slave of that sort under a.s.sumed names or occupations. But if it is discovered it would prove ruinous to you just now."
"In three days I shall be out of the country," she answered, briefly.
"I go down to Savannah, secure Louise from this blunder--for there is really nothing to be proven against her as a spy--and then, farewell, or ill, to Carolina. I do not expect to enter it again. My arrangements are all made. Nothing has been forgotten. As to my good Louise, your informer has not been made acquainted with all the facts. It is true she was a Georgian slave, but is so no longer.
For over a year she has been in possession of the papers establis.h.i.+ng her freedom. Her own money, and a clever lawyer, arranged all that without any trouble whatever. What Monsieur Loring would do if he knew I had a maid whose name was a.s.sumed, I neither know nor care. He could not identify her as the girl Rhoda Larue, even if he saw her.
His sight has failed until he could not distinguish you from Colonel McVeigh if across the room. I learned that fact through Madame McVeigh before leaving Mobile, so, you perceive, I have not risked so much in making the journey with my pretty maid; and I shall risk no more when I make my adieus the day after tomorrow."
She laughed, and looked up in his face. He looked down in her's, but he did not laugh.
"And the estate you have just purchased in order to enjoy this Eden-like plantation life?"
"The purpose for which it was purchased will be carried out quite as well without my presence," she said, quietly. "I never meant to live there."
"Well, that beats me!" he said, halting, and looking squarely down at her. "You spend thousands to establish yourself in the heart of a seceding country, and gain the confidence of the natives, and then toss it all aside as though it were only a trifle! You must have spent fortunes from your own pocket to help the Federals!"
"So your President was good enough to say in the letter I tried to show you--and did not," she replied, and then smiled, as she added, "but you are mistaken, Captain Monroe; it was only one fortune spent, and I will be recompensed."
"When?"
"When that long-talked-of emanc.i.p.ation is announced."
The bright music of a mazurka stole out of the open windows, and across the level could be seen a blaze of fat pine torches tied to poles and shedding l.u.s.tre and black pitch over the negro quarters--they also were celebrating "Mahs Ken's" return. Above the dreamy system of the parlor dances they could hear at times the exuberant calls and shouts of laughter where the dark people made merry. Judge Clarkson, who was descending the steps, halted to listen, and drew Monroe's attention to it.
"Happy as children they are, over there tonight," he remarked. "Most contented people on earth, I do believe." He addressed some gallant words to Judithe, and then turned to Monroe.
"Mr. Loring has been inquiring for you, Captain Monroe. You understand, of course, that you are somewhat of a lion and one we cannot afford to have hidden. He is waiting to introduce you to some of our Carolina friends, who appreciate you, sir, for the protection shown a daughter of the South, and from your magnanimous care of a Carolina boy this past month--oh, your fame has preceded you, and I a.s.sure you, sir, you have earned for yourself a hearty welcome."
Evilena joined them, followed by Delaven, who asked for a dance and was flouted because he did not wear a uniform. She did present him with a scarlet flower from her boquet, with the remark that if decked with something bright he might be a little less suggestive of funerals, and, attaching herself to Monroe, she left to look up Matthew Loring.
Delaven looked ruefully at the scarlet flower.
"It's a poor subst.i.tute for herself," he decided, "but, tell me now, Marquise, if you were fathoms deep in love, as I am this minute, and had so much of encouragement as a flower flung at you, what would you advise as the next move in Cupid's game?"