The Quadroon Part 49

I again looked up. Her eye was still wandering in fruitless search--oh!

surely it is for me!

Again I cowered behind the crowd, and her glance was carried onward.

I raised myself once more. I saw the shadow darkening upon her face.

Her eye filled with a deeper expression--it was the look of despair.

"Courage! courage!" I whispered to myself. "Look again, lovely Aurore!

This time I shall meet you. I shall speak to you from mine eyes--I shall give back glance for glance--"

"She sees--she recognises me! That start--the flash of joy in her eyes--the smile curling upon her lips! Her glance wanders no more--her gaze is fixed--proud heart! It _was_ for me!"

Yes, our eyes met at length--met, melting and swimming with love. Mine had escaped from my control. For some moments I could not turn them aside, but surrendered them to the impulse of my pa.s.sion. It was mutual. I doubted it not. I felt as though the ray of love-light was pa.s.sing between us. I had almost forgotten where I stood!

A murmur from the crowd, and a movement, restored me to my senses. Her stedfast gaze had been noticed, and by many--skilled to interpret such glances--had been understood. These, in turning round to see who was the object of that glance, had caused the movement. I had observed it in time, and turned my face in another direction.

I watched the entrance for D'Hauteville. Why had he not arrived? My anxiety increased with the minutes.

True, it would still be an hour--perhaps two--before her time should come.--Ha!--what?

There was silence for a moment--something of interest was going on. I looked towards the rostrum for an explanation. A dark man had climbed upon one of the steps, and was whispering to the auctioneer.

He remained but a moment. He appeared to have asked some favour, which was at once conceded him, and he stepped back to his place among the crowd.

A minute or two intervened, and then, to my horror and astonishment, I saw the overseer take Aurore by the arm, and raise her upon the block!

The intention was plain. _She was to be sold next_!

In the moments that followed, I cannot remember exactly how I acted. I ran wildly for the entrance. I looked out into the street. Up and down I glanced with anxious eyes. No D'Hauteville!

I rushed back into the hall--again through the outer circles of the crowd, in the direction of the rostrum.

The bidding had begun. I had not heard the preliminaries, but as I re-entered there fell upon my ears the terrible words--

"_A thousand dollars for the Quadroon_.--_A thousand dollars bid_!"

"O Heaven! D'Hauteville has deceived me. She is lost!--lost!"

In my desperation I was about to interrupt the sale. I was about to proclaim aloud its unfairness, in the fact that the Quadroon had been _taken out of the order advertised_! Even on this poor plea I rested a hope.

It was the straw to the drowning man, but I was determined to grasp it.

I had opened my lips to call out, when some one pulling me by the sleeve caused me to turn round. It was D'Hauteville! Thank Heaven, it was D'Hauteville!

I could scarce restrain myself from shouting with joy. His look told me that he was the bearer of bright gold.

"In time, and none to spare," whispered he, thrusting a pocket-book between my fingers; "there is three thousand dollars--that will surely be enough; 'tis all I have been able to procure. I cannot stay here-- there are those I do not wish to see. I shall meet you after the sale is over. Adieu!"

I scarce thanked him. I saw not his parting. My eyes were elsewhere.

"Fifteen hundred dollars bid for the Quadroon!--good housekeeper-- sempstress--fifteen hundred dollars!"

"_Two thousand_!" I called out, my voice husky with emotion. The sudden leap over such a large sum drew the attention of the crowd upon me. Looks, smiles, and innuendoes were freely exchanged at my expense.

I saw, or rather heeded them not. I saw Aurore, only Aurore, standing upon the dais like a statue upon its pedestal--the type of sadness and beauty. The sooner I could take her thence, the happier for me; and with that object in view I had made my "bid."

"Two thousand dollars bid--two thousand--twenty-one hundred dollars--two thousand, one, two--twenty-two hundred dollars bid--twenty-two--"

"Twenty-five hundred dollars!" I again cried out, in as firm a voice as I could command.

"Twenty-five hundred dollars," repeated the auctioneer, in his monotonous drawl; "twenty-five--six--you, sir? thank you! twenty-six hundred dollars for the Quadroon--twenty-six hundred!"

"Oh G.o.d! they will go above three thousand; if they do--"

"Twenty-seven hundred dollars!" bid the fop Marigny.

"Twenty-eight hundred!" from the old Marquis.

"Twenty-eight hundred and fifty!" a.s.sented the young merchant, Moreau.

"Nine!" nodded the tall dark man who had whispered to the auctioneer.

Twenty-nine hundred dollars bid--two thousand nine hundred.

"Three thousand!" I gasped out in despair.

It was my last bid. I could go no farther.

I waited for the result, as the condemned waits for the falling of the trap or the descent of the axe. My heart could not have endured very long that terrible suspense. But I had not long to endure it.

"_Three thousand one hundred dollars_!--three thousand one hundred bid-- thirty-one hundred dollars--"

I cast one look upon Aurore. It was a look of hopeless despair; and turning away, I staggered mechanically across the hall.

Before I had reached the entrance I could hear the voice of the auctioneer, in the same prolonged drawl, calling out, "Three thousand five hundred bid for the Quadroon girl?"

I halted and listened. The sale was coming to its close.

"Three thousand five hundred--going at three thousand five hundred-- going--going--"

The sharp stroke of the hammer fell upon my ear. It drowned the final word "gone!" but my heart p.r.o.nounced that word in the emphasis of its agony.

There was a noisy scene of confusion, loud words and high excitement among the crowd of disappointed bidders. Who was the fortunate one?

I leant over to ascertain. The tall dark man was in conversation with the auctioneer. Aurore stood beside him. I now remembered having seen the man on the boat. He was the agent of whom D'Hauteville had spoken.

The Creole had guessed aright, and so, too, had Le Ber.

_Gayarre had outbid them all_!