If so, he was in league with Carondelet's police.I believed him fully capable of this.And if he knew Nick's whereabouts and St.Gre's, they would both be behind the iron gateway of the calabozo in the morning.Monsieur Vigo had pointed out to me that day the gloomy, heavy-walled prison in the rear of the Cabildo,--ay, and he had spoken of its instruments of torture.
What could the Vicomtesse want? Truly (I thought with remorse) she had been more industrious than I.
I fell at length into a fevered sleep, and awoke, athirst, with the light trickling through my lattices.Contrary to Madame Gravois's orders, I had opened the glass of my window.Glancing at my watch,--which I had bought in Philadelphia,--I saw that the hands pointed to half after seven.I had scarcely finished my toilet before there was a knock at the door, and Madame Gravois entered with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and her bottle of medicine in the other.
``I did not wake Monsieur,'' she said, ``for he was tired.''
She gave me another dose of the medicine, made me drink two cups of coffee, and then I started out with all despatch for the House of the Lions.As I turned into the Rue Chartres I saw ahead of me four horses, with their bridles bunched and held by a negro lad, waiting in the street.Yes, they were in front of the house.There it was, with its solid green gates between the lions, its yellow walls with the fringe of peeping magnolias and oranges, with its green-latticed gallery from which Monsieur Auguste had let himself down after stealing the miniature.
I knocked at the wicket, the same gardienne answered the call, smiled, led me through the cool, paved archway which held in its frame the green of the court beyond, and up the stairs with the quaint balustrade which I had mounted five years before to meet Philippe de St.Gre.As I reached the gallery Madame la Vicomtesse, gowned in brown linen for riding, rose quickly from her chair and came forward to meet me.
``You have news?'' I asked, as I took her hand.
``I have the kind of news I expected,'' she answered, a smile tempering the gravity of her face; ``Auguste is, as usual, in need of money.''
``Then you have found them,'' I answered, my voice betraying my admiration for the feat.
Madame la Vicomtesse shrugged her shoulders slightly.
``I did nothing,'' she said.``From what you told me, I suspected that as soon as Auguste reached Louisiana he would have a strong desire to go away again.This is undoubtedly what has happened.In any event, I knew that he would want money, and that he would apply to a source which has hitherto never failed him.''
``Mademoiselle Antoinette!'' I said.
``Precisely,'' answered Madame la Vicomtesse.``When I reached home last night I questioned Antoinette, and I discovered that by a singular chance a message from Auguste had already reached her.''
``Where is he?'' I demanded.
``I do not know,'' she replied.``But he will be behind the hedge of the garden at Les Iles at eleven o'clock--unless he has lost before then his love of money.''
``Which is to say--''
``He will be there unless he is dead.That is why Isent for you, Monsieur.'' She glanced at me.``Sometimes it is convenient to have a man.''
I was astounded.Then I smiled, the affair was so ridiculously simple.
``And Monsieur de St.Gre?'' I asked.
``Has been gone for a week with Madame to visit the estimable Monsieur Poydras at Pointe Coupee.'' Madame la Vicomtesse, who had better use for her words than to waste them at such a time, left me, went to the balcony, and began to give the gardienne in the court below swift directions in French.Then she turned to me again.
``Are you prepared to ride with Antoinette and me to Les Iles, Monsieur?'' she asked.
``I am,'' I answered.
It must have been my readiness that made her smile.
Then her eyes rested on mine.
``You look tired, Mr.Ritchie,'' she said.``You did not obey me and go home last night.''
``How did you know that?'' I asked, with a thrill at her interest.
``Because Madame Gravois told my messenger that you were out.''
I was silent.
``You must take care of yourself,'' she said briefly.
``Come, there are some things which I wish to say to you before Antoinette is ready.''
She led me toward the end of the gallery, where a bright screen of morning-glories shaded us from the sun.But we had scarce reached the place ere the sound of steps made us turn, and there was Mademoiselle Antoinette herself facing us.I went forward a few steps, hesitated, and bowed.She courtesied, my name faltering on her lips.
Yes, it was Antoinette, not the light-hearted girl whom we had heard singing ``Ma luron'' in the garden, but a woman now with a strange beauty that astonished me.Hers was the dignity that comes from unselfish service, the calm that is far from resignation, though the black veil caught up on her chapeau de paille gave her the air of a Sister of Mercy.Antoinette had inherited the energies as well as the features of the St.Gre's, yet there was a painful moment as she stood there, striving to put down the agitation the sight of me gave her.As for me, I was bereft of speech, not knowing what to say or how far to go.My last thought was of the remarkable quality in this woman before me which had held her true to Mrs.Temple, and which sent her so courageously to her duty now.
Madame la Vicomtesse, as I had hoped, relieved the situation.She knew how to broach a dreaded subject.
``Mr.Ritchie is going with us, Antoinette,'' she said.
``It is perhaps best to explain everything to him before we start.I was about to tell you, Mr.Ritchie,'' she continued, turning to me, ``that Auguste has given no hint in his note of Mr.Temple's presence in Louisiana.And yet you told me that they were to have come here together.''
``Yes,'' I answered, ``and I have no reason to think they have separated.''
``I was merely going to suggest,'' said the Vicomtesse, firmly, ``I was merely going to suggest the possibility of our meeting Mr.Temple with Auguste.''
