Stone That the Builder Refused - Madison Smartt Bell [48]
Guizot made his report to Rochambeau, then went to his meal and his ration of rum. He did not drink as much as the night before. Bone-weariness was sufficient now to send him into the dreamless sleep he coveted.
At dawn the next day he was back on the march. Leaving just enough of a garrison to secure the town, Rochambeau formed a column of most of the eighteen hundred men he’d arrived with, and set out briskly, urgently, into the Northern Plain.
6
At the close of the intermission, Doctor Hébert took note that his sister had not returned to her seat. Isabelle Cigny was still chattering with an acquaintance to her right when the house lights were snuffed, but Elise was nowhere to be found. Someone shushed Isabelle as the curtain was raised. The doctor shifted restlessly, rearranged his legs; there was a cramp in the left one, most likely from nerves. He had been cajoled, not to say coerced, to attend the theater with his sister and her friend—the lone male escort available to them. Monsieur Cigny was absent on his plantation; Major Maillart away on some military mission to the eastern part of the island. Xavier Tocquet had, with small ceremony, declined the evening’s program of entertainment. The doctor thought there was more to his aloofness than his usual lack of interest in such pastimes. In the weeks since his return from the North American Republic, a chill seemed to have settled over Tocquet’s relations with Elise.
The doctor’s eyes swam as he looked at the stage, a blur of cheap, bright-colored fabric, the glitter of costume jewelry streaming in his tears of ennui. He could make no sense of what the players were saying to each other. Fatigue and distraction—he might have dozed off, but he knew that Isabelle’s sharp elbow would rouse him. The empty seat on his other side oppressed him. He understood now that Elise would not return; the whole excursion was no more than a ruse, to which he’d been made an unwitting accomplice. That afternoon he had picked up from Pascal that Colonel Sans-Souci was making one of his flying visits to Le Cap from his post at Grande Rivière . . . visits whose frequency had by no means decreased since Xavier Tocquet’s return to his household.
When the performance had finally ended, he remarked on Elise’s disappearance as he left the theater with Isabelle depending lightly on his arm.
“O,” said Isabelle. “She complained of a headache.” Her eyes held the doctor’s eyes quite as steadily as if she believed she was telling the truth. “I’m certain she has gone home to her bed.”
Or to someone’s bed somewhere, the doctor thought, but he held the retort behind his teeth. They descended into the Rue Espagnole, where Isabelle’s carriage waited.
During the short ride to the Cigny house, they did not converse, though now and then Isabelle leaned out to wave at some passing acquaintance. The carriage was a recent purchase, thanks to the renewed prosperity of the plantations under Toussaint’s regime. Its excellent springs made the ride silky smooth, and Isabelle snuggled into the cushioned seat with all the delight of a child.
At the Cigny house the doctor got out to help Isabelle down. A black footman waited in the open doorway, candles aglow in the room behind him.
“Do come in,” Isabelle said. “Perhaps a brandy?”
“No, I think not,” the doctor said. She laid a hand on his sleeve as if she would stay him.
“Never fear,” he snapped. “I mean to take a very long walk—I will not risk returning to my sister’s house before her.”
“O, don’t be cross,” said Isabelle.
“Pardon,” said the doctor, stifling his annoyance. “But let us have an end to this dissimulation, at least between you and me.”
“Why, what can you mean?” she said, her tone still light.
The doctor glanced at the impassive face of the servant within the doorway. “It is foolish, never mind the rest of it, for Elise to deceive Xavier—or to think