The River's Children Part 13

This was rather thoughtful talk for a girl scarcely eighteen, but Agnes had ever been thoughtful, and by common inheritance--from her mother and her father.

As the scene shifted, and conversation pa.s.sed to lighter things, and her laughter rippled again as a child's, its range was sometimes startling.

It was as brilliant as a waterfall seen in the sun, and often while her fond father watched her, as now, he wondered if, perchance, her laughter might not be prophetic of a great career for which eyes less devoted than his perceived her eminently fitted.

It is beyond the province of this tale of the river to follow Agnes Le Duc through life. Some day, possibly, her story may be fully told; but perhaps a foreshadowing of her future, in one phase of it at least, may be discerned in an intimation let fall by one of the pa.s.sengers who sat with his companions at a card-table in the fore cabin. At least, they had spent the day there, stopping not even for dinner, and now they were moving away. As they found seats out on the guards, he was saying:

"'_Rich!_' Well, I would say so! He own all doze plantation around de town of Waterproof, and de strange part is _he paid twice for some of dem_! Of co'se he could not do such a so-foolish t'ing except he made dat _in_vention. W'en you _be_gin to collec' so much on every one of anyt'ing dat fill a want, _you get rich, sure_!

"No matter if it jus' _one picayune_--w'en dey sell enough. Dey say you can make sugar so quick by dat _mach_ine he _in_vent--it is like conjuring--a sort of hoodoo!"

"Yes," said his companion, an American, "so I understand; and there is no man I would rather see rich than Harold Le Duc. His marriage, so soon after the recovery of his child, surprised some of us, but no doubt it was a good thing."

"A good t'ing! It was _magnificent_! If he is one of de finest men in Louisiana, she is equal to him. Dat remark dat he married only for a mudder for his child--dat's all in my heye! I am sure he was in love to her one year, maybe two, _be_fo' dat--_mais_, I am not sure he would have asked any woman to marry him. He had not de courage. For him love was past--and he was afraid of it. _Mais_ de chil' she wake him up again! Oh, it is a good t'ing, _sure_! An' de strange part, she t'ought she wou'n' never love again, jus' de same as him--until--"

"Until what?"

"Well, _until he spoke_! Until w'at you t'ink?"

"Not'ing. I t'ought _maybe_ it was somet'ing unusual."

"Well, an' is dat not somet'ing unusual--w'en a widow is _sure_ she will not love again? Dey often _t'ink_ so, _mais_ she was _absolutely sure_!

You see, her first husband he was one hero; he fell on de same battle-field wid gallant 'Jeb' Stuart--from a stray shot w'en de fighting was over, carrying dat poor _imbecile_, Philippe Delmaire, off de fiel', biccause he was yelling so, wid dat one li'l' toe he los'! A good fellow, yas, _mais no account_! Yas, he drank himself to deat', all on account for de loss of dat toe, so he say. Excuses dey are cheap, yas. If it was not his toe it would have been somet'ing else. You know, his figure, it was really perfection, no _mis_take, an' to lose perfection, even in so small a matter as one toe--it prey on his mind.

Tell de trut', I used to feel sorry for him, an'--an'--w'en he always would touch his gla.s.s an' drink dat favorite toast, 'To my big toe!'

well, dere was somet'ing pitiful in it. I used to drink it wid him. It was no harm, an' he had always good wine, poor fellow. _Mais to t'ink of Paul de La Rose dying for him!_ It make me mad, yet w'en I t'ink so, I am almos' sorry to reflect I have drunk to his toe! Bah--a valu'ble man--to die like dat! Wat you say? Yas, da's true. It makes not _how_ de soldier fall--de glory is de same. Well, any'ow, if he could have picked out a successor, he could not have done better dan yo'ng Le Duc--sure!

W'at you say? '_'Ow_ is he bought doze plantation twice?' Well, dis way: W'en he had to take dem on mortgage, an' dey were sold at de door of de court-house--bidding against him, understand--no rainy-day sale--he paid _double_--I mean to say he paid so much as de mortagage _again_. Not in every case, _mais_ in many--to widows. I know two cousin of mine, he paid dem so. I ricollec' dey tol' me dat he was de mos' remembering man to look out for dem, an' de mos' forgetting to sen' de bills.

"Oh, yas. An' his daughter, dey say she is in love to her stepmother--an' she is jus' so foolish about de chil'--an' wid good reason. She had never children--an' she is proud for dat daughter, an'

jealous, too, of dose Yankee _ril_lation. Still, she _in_vite dem to come every year, so the chil' can stay--an' now, would you believe it?

Dey are come to be great friends, _mais_, of co'se, her father sends her every year at Boston to her grandmother. Dey all want her, an' no wonder. If she was one mud fence, I suppose it would be all de same, _mais_ you know, she is _one great beauty_! I say one gr-r-r-reat beauty! Wh! An'w'en I whistle so 'wh!' I mean w'at I say. You see me so, I am one ol' man, now--pas' forty--an' rich in children, an' not bad-looking children, neither; _mais_ I would walk, me, all de way from de barracks up to Bouligny, _an' back_, just to see her pa.s.s in de street an' smile on me. You take my word, _if_ she is not snapped up by some school-boy, she can marry _anyt'ing_--_a coronet_! An' I know somet'ing about women--not to brag."

"If you are so anxious to see dat young lady, Felix," said another, "you don't need to walk so far. She is, at dis moment, wid her father an' her stepmudder, on dis trip."

"_W'at_! w'at you say? Well, wait. I di'n' inten', me, to dress for de ladies' cabin to-night, _mais_ w'en I have my supper I will put on my Sunday t'ings--jus' to go an' sit down in de cabin w'ere--I--can--look--at _innocent_--_beauty_! It pleasure me, yas, to see some t'ing like dat. May_be_ I am not all good, _mais_ I am not all given over for bad so long I can enjoy a rose-vine all in pink, or a fair yo'ng girl more beautiful yet.

"I tell you, my friends, I was sitting, week before las', at my 'ouse on Esplanade Street, on de back gallerie, w'ere de vines is t'ick, an' dey were, as you might say, honey-suckling de bees--an' de perfume from my night-bloomin' jasmine filled my nose. It was in de evening, an' de moon on de blue sky was like a map of de city, jus' a silver crescent, an'

close by, one li'l' star, shining, as de children say, 'like a diamond in de sky,' an' I tell you--I tell you--

"Well, I tell you, _I wished I had been a good man all my life_!"

His friends laughed gaily at this.

"You don' say!" laughed one. "Well, you fooled us, any'ow! I was holding my breat'. I t'ought somet'ing was getting ready to happen!"

"Well--an' ain't dat somet'ing?--w'en a hard ol' sinner like me can see in nature a t'ing sweet an' good an'--_an' resolute himself_!"

"Sure, dat is a great happening; _mais_ for such a _be_ginning, so dramatic, we expected to see Hamlet--or maybe his father's ghost--or _somet'ing_!"

"I am thinking more of this exceptional beauty"--it was the American who interrupted now--"I am more interested in her than in the confessions of old sinners like ourselves. I am rather practical, and beauty is only skin-deep--sometimes at least. I should like to take a peep at this rare product of our State. Louisiana's record up to date is hard to beat, in this respect."

"Well," slowly remarked the man known throughout as Felix, "I am not telling! If I _knew_, I could not _tell_, and, of co'se, it is all guess-work, _mais_ you may believe me or not--" he lowered his voice, suggesting mystery. "I say you can _rif_fuse to believe me or not, I was--well, I was not long ago, one day, sitting at de table down at Leon's,--eating an oyster wid a friend of mine, and, looking out of de window, I happened to see, sitting in a tree, _one li'l' bird_--jus' one small li'l' bird, no bigger dan yo' t'umb.

"I was not t'inking about de bird, mind you. We were jus' talking about anyt'ing in partic'lar--I mean to say not'ing in general. _W'at_ is de matter wid me to-day? I cannot talk straight--my tongue is all twis'. I say we were speaking of partic'lar t'ings in general, an' he remarked to me, '_Who you t'ink will be de Queen of de Carnival dis coming Mardi Gras?_'

"I was pouring a gla.s.s of Chateau Yquem at de time,--to look after de oysters,--an' I di'n' pay so much attention to w'at he was saying--I can never pour a gla.s.s an' speak at de same time. I spill my words or de wine, sure. So it happened dat w'en I put me de bottle down, my eye pa.s.sed out de window. Oh, hush! No, not my eye, of co'se--I mean my sight. Well, dat li'l' bird it was still waiting in the same place, in de magnolia-tree, an' w'en I looked, it give me one glance, sideways, like a finger on de nose, an' it opened wide its bill, an' just so plain as I am speaking now, _it spoke a name_." This in still lower voice.

"But I said nothing, immediately. A little wine, for a few gla.s.ses, it make me prudent--_up to a certain point_, of co'se. _Mais_, direc'ly, I looked at my friend, an' wid w'at you might call an air of _nonchalance_, I repeat to him de name _ex_ac'ly as it was tol' to me by de li'l' bird in de magnolia-tree. An' wa't you t'ink he said?"

"Oh, go on. W'at he say?"

"You want to know w'at he said? Well, dat I can tell you. He was greatly astonish', an' he whispered to me, '_Who tol' you? You are not in de Pickwick?_'"

"Oh, a little bird tol' me!" I answered him. "_No, I am not in de club._"

"_But the name? Do tell us!_"

"Oh, no. I cannot. If I _told_, dat would be _telling_, eh?"

"Sure! It is not necessary," said another. "Well, I am pleased, me."

"_An'_ me!"

"I like always to listen w'en you tell somet'ing, Felix. Your story is all right--an' _I believe you_. I always believe any man in de Pickwick Club--_on some subjects_! _Mais_, ol' man, de nex' time you make a story at Leon's restaurant, suppose you move off dat magnolia-tree. A bird could stand on de window-sill across de street jus' as well--a real window-sill."

"T'ank you. I am sure a _real_ somet'ing-to-stand-on would be better for _a real bird_. _Mais_, for dis particular bird, I t'ink my magnolia is more suitable. Don't forget de story of de Mongoose!"

"n.o.body can get ahead of you, Felix. Well, it is a good t'ing. It is true, her fodder was de King at las' year's Carnival--an' it is lightning striking twice in de same place; an' yet--"

"And yet," the American interrupted, "and yet it will sometimes strike twice in the same place--if the attraction is sufficient. I have a friend who has a summer home in the Tennessee mountains which was twice struck--three times, nearly. That is the house next door got it the third time. And then they began to investigate, and they found the mountain full of iron--iron convertible into gold."

"Well, and our man of iron, let us hope he may prove always an attraction--for bolts of good fortune!"

"A wish that may come true; if reports be correct, he is rapidly turning into gold," said the American. "I am told that he has found salt in immense deposits on his island--and that he has resumed the work begun just before the war--that of opening up the place."

"Oh, yas. 'Tis true. Over a hundred t'ousand dollars he has already put in--an' as much more ready to drop. _Mais_ it is _fairyland_! An' me, _I_ was t'inking too--sometimes I t'ink a little myself--I was t'inking dat if--I say _if_ sometime his daughter would be de Comus Queen, not insinuating anything, you know--no allusion to de bird--w'at a fine house-party dey could have _now_, eh? Dey could invite de royal party, maids of honor, and so fort'--whoever is rich enough to lose so much time--

"T'ink of sailing up de new ca.n.a.l on de barge--"

"An' under de bridge--"

"No, not de bridge. He will never touch dat. He has made a new plan, entering another way. Dat span of de bridge he commenced--it is standing beside de beautiful w'ite marble tomb--to hold his family. His wife she is dere, an' de ol' negroes w'at care for his chil'--dey are laying in one corner, wid also a small monument."

"Are you _sure_ dey are dere?"

"I have seen de monument, I tell you."