CHAPTER XXIX
IN OLD ST. GENEVIEVE
It was the daily custom of Hector to be upon hand at the dock forthe landing of each and every steamer which touched at St.Genevieve, bound either up or down the Mississippi, and hisbusiness of cooperage never was allowed to infringe upon these moreimportant duties. Accordingly, on a certain day late in thewinter, although he had no special reason to be present, Hector wasamong those who waited for the boat to land, with no purpose moredefinite than that of giving a hand with her line at a snubbingpost. He was much surprised when he saw coming from thegang-plank, and beckoning to him, a distinguished and handsomelyclad lady. For an instant, abashed, he could find no speech; thensuddenly he jerked off his cap, and stood smiling.
"It is Madame!" he exclaimed. "_Ah, bon jour! Bon jour! Ah,c'est Madame_!"
"Yes," rejoined Josephine St. Auban, "it is I. And I am glad tosee St. Genevieve again, and you, Monsieur Hector. Tell me,--ah,about that infant, that baby of ours!!
"Madame, believe me, there is none such in all the valley! Come!"
It was a proud and happy Jeanne who greeted her former mistress atthe little cottage with the green blinds, and the ivy, which layclose upon the street of St. Genevieve,--Jeanne, perhaps a triflemore fleshy, a shade more French and a touch less Parisian in look,more mature and maternal, yet after all, Jeanne, her former maid.Woman fashion, these two now met, not without feminine tears, andforgetful of late difference in station, although Jeanne dutifullykissed the hand held out to her. The first coherent speech, as inthe case of Hector, was regarding this most extraordinary infant,whose arrival seemed to be thus far regarded as a matter ofnational importance. In this view also shared Madame Fournier theelder, mother of Hector, who also presently welcomed the new-comerto the home.
Woman fashion, these two now met.]
A strange feeling of relief, of rest and calm, came over JosephineSt. Auban, a lady of rank in another world, where an incident suchas this could not have been conceived. Here it seemed not onlypossible but covetable. The first babble of congratulations andgreetings over, she settled down to the quiet of the room assignedto her, and gave a sigh as of one who at last finds harborage. Ifonly this might go on for ever! If only the street might always bethus silent, the roof thus sheltering, the greetings of simplefriends thus comforting! She made no plans for herself, noannouncement to others of possible plans. It was enough to remainthus, for a night at least. She was very weary, body and soul.The pathetic droop at the corners of her brave gay mouth must havebrought sympathy to any who had known her earlier.
"We are not rich, Madame Countess," said Hector the next morning atthe breakfast table, "but, my faith, it is not so bad here. Wehave not much to offer Madame, but such as it is, it is quite hers.With what riches could she produce a hen to lay eggs more perfectthan those which madame beholds this morning? They are the eggs ofMildred, our most special hen. And this cream, it is from our cowSuzanne, whose like one does not find in any land for docility andamiability of disposition. Our roof is small, but it is ours. Wehave a yard so large as forty feet to the street yonder. What moredoes one demand for flowers or for the onion with green top in thespring? The couch of madame, was it not soft? Yes? It is fromfowls of this very valley. That scene from the window there, is itnot beautiful? Oh, very well! Others may possess in greaterabundance than we, but as for myself, my business of the cooperageprospers,--behold my excellent wife Jeanne, yonder,--and thisdaughter of ours! What more could human being ask?"
Time and again, Josephine found herself repeating this samequestion,--What more could be asked than this? What more did thegreat world offer? It had not offered her, long used to luxury, somuch as this. To Hector at this moment she made evasive answer."I could willingly tarry with you always, Hector," said she, "ifthat were right."
"Right?" demanded Hector, swelling out his chest, "Why is it notright?" He doubled up a mighty arm to show where the muscles roseupon it. "See, I am strong! What is one more mouth to feed--couldit even come to that for one of madame's wealth? Madame but jests.Did not madame bring me that Jeanne there? Ah, if only it wereright for her to linger with us, how happy we should be! Madame isa noblewoman, we are but poor; yet she has honored us. Very well,then, what good to wonder about the future? Madame is rich, thatis true. Suppose even she were poor, would it not be possible formadame to settle down here in St. Genevieve, and to teach thelanguage of France--far better, to teach the English to theseignorant French?"
The sturdy speech of the fresh-looking, good-hearted fellow,touched the heart of a woman so world weary. For a time she saidnothing of plans, even to herself. It was not long before the babyof Jeanne found a place upon her knee, and Jeanne herself, thoughjealous, was willing to surrender her dearest rights, at least fora time.
But always the eyes of this world weary woman were lifted up to thehills. She found herself gazing out beyond the street of St.Genevieve, toward the Ozarks, where once she had traveled--true,against her will, but yet through scenes which she now remembered.And always there came up in her mind a question which she found noway to ask. It was Jeanne herself who, either by divination or byblunder, brought up the matter.
"Madame remembers that man yonder, that savage, Dunwodee?" shebegan, apropos of nothing. "That savage most execrable, who was sounkind to madame and myself--but who made love so fiercely? Ideclare, Madame, I believe it was Monsieur Dunwodee set melistening to Hector! _Eh, bien_!"
They were sitting near the window, looking out upon the bleakprospect of the winter woods. For the time Josephine made nocomment, and Jeanne went on.
"He has at last, thank heavens, come to justice. Is it not truethat human beings find ever their deserts?"
"What do you mean, Jeanne?"
"Of the Congress of this state, where he is so long a member, he isnow not a member. He has fail', he has been defeat'."
"I thought he was sure of reelection so long as he chose,"commented Josephine, with feigned indifference.
"There is talk--I do not understand these matters--that he haschange' his coat, as one says, and gone over to the side of thatman Benton. Yet one says that Benton was always his enemy! Me, Ido not understand. I have the baby."
"What is that you tell me?" suddenly demanded Josephine. "That Mr.Dunwody has _changed_ his political beliefs--that he has becomeFree Soiler?"
Jeanne nodded. "I think it is so name'. I know little of suchmatters, naturally. To me, my infant here is of much moreimportance than any question of free soil. It is possible in thiscountry that one day this infant--were it of opposite sex--mightarrive to be governor of this state--who knows? It is possible, inthe belief of Hector, that this infant, were it a boy, might evenbecome president of this great republic. Ah, well, there arehopes. Who shall set bounds to the achievement of a child wellborn in this country of America? Is it established that Hector andI may not, at a later time, be blessed with a son? Is itestablished that that son shall not be president? Is it notnecessary that _some_ boy shall grow up to be a president? Verywell! Then who shall say that a child of ours, if of a proper sex,Madame, should not one day be president of this republic?"
"Yes, yes, Jeanne! I do not doubt that. But now you were speakingof Mr. Dunwody--"
"Yes, that is true. I was rejoicing that at last he has beendefeat', that he has fail', that he has met with that fate whichshould be his. Now he has few friends. It is charge' againsthim--well, Madame, perhaps it were as well not to repeat all ofthat."
"I can understand," said Josephine slowly. "I can guess. Yes, Iknow."
Jeanne nodded. "Yes, they bring up stories that at one time youand I--well, that we were there at Tallwoods. But these wildpeople here, who shoot, and fight with knives, they are of allpeoples in the world the most strict and the most moral, the mostabhorrent of what is not their own custom of life. Behold, thatdroll Mr. Bill Jones, in jest perhaps, expressed to others hisbelief that at one time there was a woman con
ceal' about this placeof Tallwoods! Yes! Madame knows with what ground of justice thiswas said. Very well! The people took it up. There was comment.There was criticism. These charges became public. It was rumoredthus and so in all the district of Mr. Dunwodee. He has fought theduel--oh, la, la!
"Ah, well, as for madame, by this time she was far away. None knewher name. None doubted regarding her. But as for Mr. Dunwodee, hewas here,--he was discover'! Behold it all! At the election hewas defeat'. Most easily did this happen, because, as I have said,he no longer was of the same political party which formerly hadchosen him. There you have him. That has come to him which he hasdeserve'!"
The eyes of Josephine St. Auban flashed with interest over thisintelligence. "He has changed his belief, his party! But no, itis not possible that he should come out for _our_ party, _our_cause, Jeanne,--_our_ cause, for the people of the world--forliberty! I wish I might believe it. No. It can not be true."
"Yet it is true, Madame. A turncoat! Bah!"
"No, Jeanne! Not in the least should you feel contempt tempt for aman who honestly changes a belief. To turn from error, is not thatalways wisdom?"
But Jeanne only shrugged her shoulders, and held out her hands forthe baby. "It is naught to me," said she. "We are happy hereunder this roof, are we not?"
"Precisely. We are safe here. That child yonder is safe here.But how long shall we be safe if there are not those to keep thisroof protected? The law, Jeanne,--the Justice, back of thelaw,--are these things of no interest to you?"
"At least, when it comes to roofs," reiterated Jeanne. "MonsieurDunwodee has pulled down his roof about his ear."
"Yes! Yes! Thank God! And so did Samson pull down the pillarsabout him when he had back his strength!"
"Madame has given me occasion to disappear," rejoined Jeanne, witha resigned shrug. "I do not always find myself able to follow thelofty thought of madame. But, at least, for these people of St.Genevieve there is no doubt. They have argue' among theirself.The vote here is against Monsieur Dunwodee. He is what one callsdepose'.
"But then, Madame," she added presently, as she turned at the door,with the baby on her arm, "if madame should wish to explore thematter for herself, that is quite possible. This night, perhapsto-morrow, Monsieur Dunwodee himself comes to St. Genevieve. He isto meet the voters of this place. He wishes to speak, to explain.I may say that, even, he will have the audacity to come here toadvocate the cause of freedom, and the restriction of those slaveryfor which hitherto he has labor' so valiant. Perhaps there will bethose who care to listen to the address of a man of no moreprinciple. For me and for my husband Hector--we do not argue.Hector, he is for Monsieur Dunwodee. Save as a maker of love,Madame, I am not!"
Josephine made no immediate reply. A tall mirror with pretentiousgolden frame hung opposite to her across the room. A few momentslater, with a start, she suddenly pulled herself together,discovering that she had been gazing steadfastly into the glass.
Gazing steadfastly into the glass.]