The Quadroon Part 31

Therefore--"

"Enough, enough!" said the doctor, interrupting me; "do not be uneasy.

Let me look at your scratches."

The good doctor became silent, and proceeded to the dressing of my wounds.

Under other circ.u.mstances the manipulation of my wounds, for they now felt painful, might have caused me annoyance. It did not then. What I had just heard had produced a feeling within that neutralised the external pain, and I felt it not.

I was really in mental agony.

I burned with impatience to question Reigart about the affairs of the plantation,--about Eugenie and Aurore. I could not,--we were not alone.

The landlord of the hotel and a negro attendant had entered the room, and were a.s.sisting the doctor in his operations. I could not trust myself to speak on such a subject in their presence. I was forced to nurse my impatience until all was over, and both landlord and servant had left us.

"Now, doctor, this news of Mademoiselle Besancon?"

"Do _you_ not know all?"

"Only what I have heard this moment from those gossips outside the room."

I detailed to Reigart the remarks that had been made.

"Really I thought you must have been acquainted with the whole matter.

I had fancied that to be the cause of your long absence to-day; though I did not even conjecture how you might be engaged in the matter."

"I know nothing more than what I have thus accidentally overheard. For heaven's sake tell me all! Is it true?"

"Substantially true, I grieve to say."

"Poor Eugenie!"

"The estate was heavily mortgaged to Gayarre. I have long suspected this, and fear there has been some foul play. Gayarre has foreclosed the mortgage, and, indeed, it is said, is already in possession.

Everything is now his."

"Everything?"

"Everything upon the plantation."

"The slaves?"

"Certainly."

"All--all--and--and--Aurore?"

I hesitated as I put the interrogatory, Reigart had no knowledge of my attachment to Aurore.

"The quadroon girl, you mean?--of course, she with the others. She is but a slave like the rest. She will be sold."

"_But a slave! sold with the rest_!"

This reflection was not uttered aloud.

I cannot describe the tumult of my feelings as I listened. The blood was boiling within my veins, and I could scarce restrain myself from some wild expression. I strove to the utmost to hide my thoughts, but scarce succeeded; for I noticed that the usually cold eye of Reigart was kindled in surprise at my manner. If he divined my secret he was generous, for he asked no explanation.

"The slaves are all to be sold then?" I faltered out.

"No doubt,--everything will be sold,--that is the law in such cases. It is likely Gayarre will buy in the whole estate, as the plantation lies contiguous to his own."

"Gayarre! villain! oh! And Mademoiselle Besancon, what will become of her? Has she no friends?"

"I have heard something of an aunt who has some, though not much, property. She lives in the city. It is likely that Mademoiselle will live with her in future. I believe the aunt has no children of her own, and Eugenie will inherit. This, however, I cannot vouch for. I know it only as a rumour."

Reigart spoke these words in a cautious and reserved manner. I noticed something peculiar in the tone in which he uttered them; but I knew his reason for being cautious. He was under a mistaken impression as to the feelings with which I regarded Eugenie! I did not undeceive him.

"Poor Eugenie! a double sorrow,--no wonder at the change I had observed of late,--no wonder she appeared sad!"

All this was but my own silent reflections.

"Doctor!" said I, elevating my voice; "I must go to the plantation."

"Not to-night!"

"To-night,--now!"

"My dear Mr E., you must not."

"Why?"

"It is impossible,--I cannot permit it,--you will have a fever; it may cost you your life!"

"But--"

"I cannot hear you. I a.s.sure you, you are now on the verge of a fever.

You must remain in your room--at least, until to-morrow. Perhaps then you may go out with safety. Now it is impossible."

I was compelled to acquiesce, though I am not certain but that had I taken my own way it would have been better for my "fever." Within me was a _cause of fever_ much stronger than any exposure to the night air.

My throbbing heart and wildly-coursing blood soon acted upon my brain.

"Aurore the slave of Gayarre! Ha! ha! ha! His slave! Gayarre!

Aurore! ha! ha! ha! Is it his throat I clutch? ha, no! It is the serpent! here--help--help! Water! water! I am choking. No, Gayarre is! I have him now! Again it is the serpent! O G.o.d! it coils around my throat--it strangles me! Help! Aurore! lovely Aurore! do not yield to him!"

"I will die rather than yield!"

"I thought so, n.o.ble girl! I come to release you! How she struggles in his grasp! Fiend! off--off, fiend! Aurore, you are free--free! Angels of heaven!"

Such was my dream,--the dream of a fevered brain.

CHAPTER FORTY ONE.