The Quadroon - novelonlinefull.com
You’re read light novel The Quadroon Part 11 online at NovelOnlineFull.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit NovelOnlineFull.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
Scipio hesitated a moment--"but--"
"Well?"
"I don't b'lieve, ma.s.s'r, daat's de reason."
"What, then?"
"Why, ma.s.s'r, to tell de troof, I b'lieve dar all bad men daat wanted to buy de gal."
Delicately as it was conveyed, I understood the insinuation.
"Ho! Aurore must be beautiful, then? Is it so, friend Scipio?"
"Ma.s.s'r, 'taint for dis ole n.i.g.g.e.r to judge 'bout daat; but folks dey say--bof white folks an black folks--daat she am de best-lookin' an hansomest quaderoom in all Loozyanna."
"Ha! a _quadroon_?"
"Daat are a fact, ma.s.s'r, daat same--she be a gal ob colour--nebber mind--she white as young missa herseff. Missa larf and say so many, many time, but fr'all daat dar am great difference--one rich lady-- t'other poor slave--jes like Ole Zip--ay, jes like Ole Zip--buy 'em, sell 'em, all de same."
"Could you describe Aurore, Scipio?"
It was not idle curiosity that prompted me to put this question. A stronger motive impelled me. The dream-face still haunted me--those features of strange type--its strangely-beautiful expression, not Caucasian, not Indian, not Asiatic. Was it possible--probable--
"Could you describe her, Scipio?" I repeated.
"'Scribe her, ma.s.s'r; daat what you mean? ye--yes."
I had no hope of a very lucid painting, but perhaps a few "points" would serve to identify the likeness of my vision. In my mind the portrait was as plainly drawn as if the real face were before my eyes. I should easily tell if Aurore and my dream were one. I began to think it was no dream, but a reality.
"Well, ma.s.s'r, some folks says she am proud, case de common n.i.g.g.e.rs envy ob her--daat's de troof. She nebber proud to Ole Zip, daat I knows--she talk to 'im, an tell 'im many tings--she help teach Ole Zip read, and de ole Chloe, and de leettle Chloe, an she--"
"It is a description of her person I ask for, Scipio."
"Oh! a 'scription ob her person--ye--daat is, what am she like?"
"So. What sort of hair, for instance? What colour is it?"
"Brack, ma.s.s'r; brack as a boot."
"Is it straight hair?"
"No, ma.s.s'r--ob course not--Aurore am a quaderoom."
"It curls?"
"Well, not dzactly like this hyar;" here Scipio pointed to his own kinky head-covering; "but for all daat, ma.s.s'r, it curls--what folks call de wave."
"I understand; it falls down to her shoulders?"
"Daat it do, ma.s.s'r, down to de berry small ob her back."
"Luxuriant?"
"What am dat, ma.s.s'r?"
"Thick--bushy."
"Golly! it am as bushy as de ole c.o.o.n's tail."
"Now the eyes?"
Scipio's description of the quadroon's eyes was rather a confused one.
He was happy in a simile, however, which I felt satisfied with: "Dey am big an round--dey shine like de eyes of a deer." The nose puzzled him, but after some elaborate questioning, I could make out that it was straight and small. The eyebrows--the teeth--the complexion--were all faithfully pictured--that of the cheeks by a simile, "like de red ob a Georgium peach."
Comic as was the description given, I had no inclination to be amused with it. I was too much interested in the result, and listened to every detail with an anxiety I could not account for.
The portrait was finished at length, and I felt certain it must be that of the lovely apparition. When Scipio had ended speaking, I lay upon my couch burning with an intense desire to see this fair--this priceless quadroon. Just then a bell rang from the house.
"Scipio wanted, ma.s.s'r--daat him bell--be back, 'gain in a minute, ma.s.s'r."
So saying, the negro left me, and ran towards the house.
I lay reflecting on the singular--somewhat romantic--situation in which circ.u.mstances had suddenly placed me. But yesterday--but the night before--a traveller, without a dollar in my purse, and not knowing what roof would next shelter me--to-day the guest of a lady, young, rich, unmarried--the invalid guest--laid up for an indefinite period; well cared for and well attended.
These thoughts soon gave way to others. The dream-face drove them out of my mind, and I found myself comparing it with Scipio's picture of the quadroon. The more I did so, the more I was struck with their correspondence. How could I have dreamt a thing so palpable? Scarce probable. Surely I must have seen it? Why not? Forms and faces were around me when I fainted and was carried in; why not hers among the rest? This was, indeed, probable, and would explain all. But was she among them? I should ask Scipio on his return.
The long conversation I had held with my attendant had wearied me, weak and exhausted as I was. The bright sun shining across my chamber did not prevent me from feeling drowsy; and after a few minutes I sank back upon my pillow, and fell asleep.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
THE CREOLE AND QUADROON.
I slept for perhaps an hour soundly. Then something awoke me, and I lay for some moments only half sensible to outward impressions.
Pleasant impressions they were. Sweet perfumes floated around me; and I could distinguish a soft, silky rustling, such as betokens the presence of well-dressed women.
"He wakes, ma'amselle!" half whispered a sweet voice.
My eyes, now open, rested upon the speaker. For some moments I thought it was but the continuation of my dream. There was the dream-face, the black profuse hair, the brilliant orbs, the arching brows, the small, curving lips, the damask cheek--all before me!
"Is it a dream? No--she breathes; she moves; she speaks!"
"See! ma'amselle--he looks at us! Surely he is awake!"
"It is no dream, then--no vision; it is she--it is Aurore!"
Up to this moment I was still but half conscious. The thought had pa.s.sed from my lips; but, perhaps, only the last phrase was uttered loud enough to be heard. An e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n that followed fully awoke me, and I now saw two female forms close by the side of my couch. They stood regarding each other with looks of surprise. One was Eugenie; beyond doubt the other was Aurore!