The Crossing [246]
looked blank. As for me, I held my breath, wondering what coup Madame was meditating.
``Mr. Ritchie brought down from Kentucky a miniature of me by Boze, that was painted in a costume I once wore at Chantilly.''
``Comment! diable,'' exclaimed the Baron. ``And how did such a thing get into Kentucky, Madame?''
``You have brought me to the point,'' she replied, ``which is no small triumph for your Excellency. Mr. Ritchie bought the miniature from that most estimable of my relations, Monsieur Auguste de St. Gre.''
The Baron sat down and began to fan himself. He even grew a little purple. He looked at Madame, sputtered, and I began to think that, if he didn't relieve himself, his head might blow off. As for the Vicomtesse, she wore an ingenuous air of detachment, and seemed supremely unconscious of the volcano by her side.
``So, Madame,'' cried the Governor at length, after I know not what repressions, ``you have come here in behalf of that--of Auguste de St. Gre!''
``So far as I am concerned, Monsieur,'' answered the Vicomtesse, calmly, ``you may hang Auguste, put him in prison, drown him, or do anything you like with him.''
``God help me,'' said the poor man, searching for his handkerchief, and utterly confounded, ``why is it you have come to me, then? Why did you wake me up?'' he added, so far forgetting himself.
``I came in behalf of the gentleman who had the indiscretion to accompany Auguste to Louisiana,'' she continued, ``in behalf of Mr. Nicholas Temple, who is a cousin of Mr. Ritchie.''
The Baron started abruptly from his chair.
``I have heard of him,'' he cried; ``Madame knows where he is?''
``I know where he is. It is that which I came to tell your Excellency.''
``Hein!'' said his Excellency, again nonplussed. ``You came to tell me where he is? And where the--the other one is?''
``Parfaitement,'' said Madame. ``But before I tell you where they are, I wish to tell you something about Mr. Temple.''
``Madame, I know something of him already,'' said the Baron, impatiently.
``Ah,'' said she, ``from Gignoux. And what do you hear from Gignoux?''
This was another shock, under which the Baron fairly staggered.
``Diable! is Madame la Vicomtesse in the plot?'' he cried. ``What does Madame know of Gignoux?''
Madame's manner suddenly froze.
``I am likely to be in the plot, Monsieur,'' she said. ``I am likely to be in a plot which has for its furtherance that abominable anarchy which deprived me of my home and estates, of my relatives and friends and my sovereign.''
``A thousand pardons, Madame la Vicomtesse,'' said the Baron, more at sea than ever. ``I have had much to do these last years, and the heat and the Republicans have got on my temper. Will Madame la Vicomtesse pray explain?''
``I was about to do so when your Excellency interrupted,'' said Madame. ``You see before you Mr. Ritchie, barrister, of Louisville, Kentucky, whose character of sobriety, dependence, and ability'' (there was a little gleam in her eye as she gave me this array of virtues) ``can be perfectly established. When he came to New Orleans some years ago he brought letters to Monsieur de St. Gre from Monsieur Gratiot and Colonel Chouteau of St. Louis, and he is known to Mr. Clark and to Monsieur Vigo. He is a Federalist, as you know, and has no sympathy with the Jacobins.''
``Eh bien, Mr. Ritchie,'' said the Baron, getting his breath, ``you are fortunate in your advocate. Madame la Vicomtesse neglected to say that she was your friend, the greatest of all recommendations in my eyes.''
``You are delightful, Monsieur le Baron,'' said the Vicomtesse.
``Perhaps Mr. Ritchie can tell me something of this expedition,'' said the Baron, his eyes growing smaller as he looked at me.
``Willingly,'' I answered. ``Although I know that your Excellency is well informed, and that Monsieur Vigo has doubtless given you many of the details that I know.''
He interrupted me with a grunt.
``You Americans are clever people, Monsieur,'' he said; ``you contrive to combine shrewdness
``Mr. Ritchie brought down from Kentucky a miniature of me by Boze, that was painted in a costume I once wore at Chantilly.''
``Comment! diable,'' exclaimed the Baron. ``And how did such a thing get into Kentucky, Madame?''
``You have brought me to the point,'' she replied, ``which is no small triumph for your Excellency. Mr. Ritchie bought the miniature from that most estimable of my relations, Monsieur Auguste de St. Gre.''
The Baron sat down and began to fan himself. He even grew a little purple. He looked at Madame, sputtered, and I began to think that, if he didn't relieve himself, his head might blow off. As for the Vicomtesse, she wore an ingenuous air of detachment, and seemed supremely unconscious of the volcano by her side.
``So, Madame,'' cried the Governor at length, after I know not what repressions, ``you have come here in behalf of that--of Auguste de St. Gre!''
``So far as I am concerned, Monsieur,'' answered the Vicomtesse, calmly, ``you may hang Auguste, put him in prison, drown him, or do anything you like with him.''
``God help me,'' said the poor man, searching for his handkerchief, and utterly confounded, ``why is it you have come to me, then? Why did you wake me up?'' he added, so far forgetting himself.
``I came in behalf of the gentleman who had the indiscretion to accompany Auguste to Louisiana,'' she continued, ``in behalf of Mr. Nicholas Temple, who is a cousin of Mr. Ritchie.''
The Baron started abruptly from his chair.
``I have heard of him,'' he cried; ``Madame knows where he is?''
``I know where he is. It is that which I came to tell your Excellency.''
``Hein!'' said his Excellency, again nonplussed. ``You came to tell me where he is? And where the--the other one is?''
``Parfaitement,'' said Madame. ``But before I tell you where they are, I wish to tell you something about Mr. Temple.''
``Madame, I know something of him already,'' said the Baron, impatiently.
``Ah,'' said she, ``from Gignoux. And what do you hear from Gignoux?''
This was another shock, under which the Baron fairly staggered.
``Diable! is Madame la Vicomtesse in the plot?'' he cried. ``What does Madame know of Gignoux?''
Madame's manner suddenly froze.
``I am likely to be in the plot, Monsieur,'' she said. ``I am likely to be in a plot which has for its furtherance that abominable anarchy which deprived me of my home and estates, of my relatives and friends and my sovereign.''
``A thousand pardons, Madame la Vicomtesse,'' said the Baron, more at sea than ever. ``I have had much to do these last years, and the heat and the Republicans have got on my temper. Will Madame la Vicomtesse pray explain?''
``I was about to do so when your Excellency interrupted,'' said Madame. ``You see before you Mr. Ritchie, barrister, of Louisville, Kentucky, whose character of sobriety, dependence, and ability'' (there was a little gleam in her eye as she gave me this array of virtues) ``can be perfectly established. When he came to New Orleans some years ago he brought letters to Monsieur de St. Gre from Monsieur Gratiot and Colonel Chouteau of St. Louis, and he is known to Mr. Clark and to Monsieur Vigo. He is a Federalist, as you know, and has no sympathy with the Jacobins.''
``Eh bien, Mr. Ritchie,'' said the Baron, getting his breath, ``you are fortunate in your advocate. Madame la Vicomtesse neglected to say that she was your friend, the greatest of all recommendations in my eyes.''
``You are delightful, Monsieur le Baron,'' said the Vicomtesse.
``Perhaps Mr. Ritchie can tell me something of this expedition,'' said the Baron, his eyes growing smaller as he looked at me.
``Willingly,'' I answered. ``Although I know that your Excellency is well informed, and that Monsieur Vigo has doubtless given you many of the details that I know.''
He interrupted me with a grunt.
``You Americans are clever people, Monsieur,'' he said; ``you contrive to combine shrewdness