The Crossing [243]
quick as a flash.
``I have reason to believe he will,'' said Madame la Vicomtesse.
``Faith,'' cried Nick, ``he would not be flesh and blood if he didn't.''
At that the Vicomtesse laughed, and her eye rested judicially on me. I was standing rather glumly, I fear, in the corner.
``Are you going to take him with you?'' said Nick.
``I was thinking of it,'' said the Vicomtesse. ``Mr. Ritchie knows you, and he is such a reliable and reputable person.''
Nick bowed.
``You should have seen him marching in a Jacobin procession, Madame,'' he said.
``He follows his friends into strange places,'' she retorted.
``And now, Mr. Temple,'' she added, ``may we trust you to stay here with Lamarque until you have word from us?''
``You know I cannot stay here,'' he cried.
``And why not, Monsieur?''
``If I were captured here, I should get Monsieur de St. Gre into trouble; and besides,'' he said, with a touch of coldness, ``I cannot be beholden to Monsieur de St. Gre. I cannot remain on his land.''
``As for getting Monsieur de St. Gre into trouble, his own son could not involve him with the Baron,'' answered Madame la Vicomtesse. ``And it seems to me, Monsieur, that you are already so far beholden to Monsieur de St. Gre that you cannot quibble about going a little more into his debt. Come, Mr. Temple, how has Monsieur de St. Gre ever offended you?''
``Madame--'' he began.
``Monsieur,'' she said, with an air not to be denied, ``I believe I can discern a point of honor as well as you. I fail to see that you have a case.''
He was indeed no match for her. He turned to me appealingly, his brows bent, but I had no mind to meddle. He swung back to her.
``But Madame--!'' he cried.
She was arranging the cards neatly on the table.
``Monsieur, you are tiresome,'' she said. ``What is it now?''
He took a step toward her, speaking in a low tone, his voice shaking. But, true to himself, he spoke plainly. As for me, I looked on frightened,--as though watching a contest,--almost agape to see what a clever woman could do.
``There is--Mademoiselle de St. Gre--''
``Yes, there is Mademoiselle de St. Gre,'' repeated the Vicomtesse, toying with the cards.
His face lighted, though his lips twitched with pain.
``She is still--''
``She is still Mademoiselle de St. Gre, Monsieur, if that is what you mean.''
``And what will she think if I stay here?''
``Ah, do you care what she thinks, Mr. Temple?'' said the Vicomtesse, raising her head quickly. ``From what I have heard, I should not have thought you could.''
``God help me,'' he answered simply, ``I do care.''
Helene's eyes softened as she looked at him, and my pride in him was never greater than at that moment.
``Mr. Temple,'' she said gently, ``remain where you are and have faith in us. I begin to see now why you are so fortunate in your friends.'' Her glance rested for a brief instant on me. ``Mr. Ritchie and I will go to New Orleans, talk to the Baron, and send Andre at once with a message. If it is in our power, you shall see your mother very soon.''
She held out her hand to him, and he bent and kissed it reverently, with an ease I envied. He followed us to the door. And when the Vicomtesse had gone a little way down the path she looked at him over her shoulder.
``Do not despair, Mr. Temple,'' she said.
It was an answer to a yearning in his face. He gripped me by the shoulders.
``God bless you, Davy,'' he whispered, and added, ``God bless you both.''
I overtook her where the path ran into the forest's shade, and for a long while I walked after her, not breaking her silence, my eyes upon her, a strange throbbing in my forehead which I did not heed. At last, when the perfumes of the flowers told us we were nearing the garden, she turned to me.
``I like Mr. Temple,'' she said, again.
``He is an honest gentleman,'' I answered.
``One meets very few of them,'' she said, speaking in a low voice. ``You and I will go to the Governor. And after that, have you any idea where you will go?''
``I have reason to believe he will,'' said Madame la Vicomtesse.
``Faith,'' cried Nick, ``he would not be flesh and blood if he didn't.''
At that the Vicomtesse laughed, and her eye rested judicially on me. I was standing rather glumly, I fear, in the corner.
``Are you going to take him with you?'' said Nick.
``I was thinking of it,'' said the Vicomtesse. ``Mr. Ritchie knows you, and he is such a reliable and reputable person.''
Nick bowed.
``You should have seen him marching in a Jacobin procession, Madame,'' he said.
``He follows his friends into strange places,'' she retorted.
``And now, Mr. Temple,'' she added, ``may we trust you to stay here with Lamarque until you have word from us?''
``You know I cannot stay here,'' he cried.
``And why not, Monsieur?''
``If I were captured here, I should get Monsieur de St. Gre into trouble; and besides,'' he said, with a touch of coldness, ``I cannot be beholden to Monsieur de St. Gre. I cannot remain on his land.''
``As for getting Monsieur de St. Gre into trouble, his own son could not involve him with the Baron,'' answered Madame la Vicomtesse. ``And it seems to me, Monsieur, that you are already so far beholden to Monsieur de St. Gre that you cannot quibble about going a little more into his debt. Come, Mr. Temple, how has Monsieur de St. Gre ever offended you?''
``Madame--'' he began.
``Monsieur,'' she said, with an air not to be denied, ``I believe I can discern a point of honor as well as you. I fail to see that you have a case.''
He was indeed no match for her. He turned to me appealingly, his brows bent, but I had no mind to meddle. He swung back to her.
``But Madame--!'' he cried.
She was arranging the cards neatly on the table.
``Monsieur, you are tiresome,'' she said. ``What is it now?''
He took a step toward her, speaking in a low tone, his voice shaking. But, true to himself, he spoke plainly. As for me, I looked on frightened,--as though watching a contest,--almost agape to see what a clever woman could do.
``There is--Mademoiselle de St. Gre--''
``Yes, there is Mademoiselle de St. Gre,'' repeated the Vicomtesse, toying with the cards.
His face lighted, though his lips twitched with pain.
``She is still--''
``She is still Mademoiselle de St. Gre, Monsieur, if that is what you mean.''
``And what will she think if I stay here?''
``Ah, do you care what she thinks, Mr. Temple?'' said the Vicomtesse, raising her head quickly. ``From what I have heard, I should not have thought you could.''
``God help me,'' he answered simply, ``I do care.''
Helene's eyes softened as she looked at him, and my pride in him was never greater than at that moment.
``Mr. Temple,'' she said gently, ``remain where you are and have faith in us. I begin to see now why you are so fortunate in your friends.'' Her glance rested for a brief instant on me. ``Mr. Ritchie and I will go to New Orleans, talk to the Baron, and send Andre at once with a message. If it is in our power, you shall see your mother very soon.''
She held out her hand to him, and he bent and kissed it reverently, with an ease I envied. He followed us to the door. And when the Vicomtesse had gone a little way down the path she looked at him over her shoulder.
``Do not despair, Mr. Temple,'' she said.
It was an answer to a yearning in his face. He gripped me by the shoulders.
``God bless you, Davy,'' he whispered, and added, ``God bless you both.''
I overtook her where the path ran into the forest's shade, and for a long while I walked after her, not breaking her silence, my eyes upon her, a strange throbbing in my forehead which I did not heed. At last, when the perfumes of the flowers told us we were nearing the garden, she turned to me.
``I like Mr. Temple,'' she said, again.
``He is an honest gentleman,'' I answered.
``One meets very few of them,'' she said, speaking in a low voice. ``You and I will go to the Governor. And after that, have you any idea where you will go?''