XVII.
PICNIC AND FAREWELL.
The day of the picnic rose brightly. Oh, what a day we passed under thosegrand trees, on the margin of that clear lake full of every imaginablesort of fish! What various games! What pleasant companions! All ourfriends were there except Treville de Saint Julien, and Madame Tonton gaveher smiles and sweet looks to Neville, who never left her a moment. Oh,how I regretted that my father was not with us! He had gone to Opelousas.He had bought several plantations in St. Martin parish, and in a regioncalled Fausse Pointe, and in another known as the Cote Gelee.
The days that followed were equally fete days--a dinner here, a dancethere, and everywhere the most gracious reception. At length came the dayfor us to meet at La Fontaine--a real spring near St. Martinville,belonging to Neville Declouet's uncle. About five in the afternoon wegathered on the bank of the bayou. We never saw Tonton twice in the samedress. To-day she was all in blue. Suddenly the sound of distant music,and an open flat--not like our boat--approached, arched over with greenbranches and flowers. Benches stood about, and in the middle the orchestraplayed. In the prow stood the captain [Neville Declouet], and during themoments of the journey the music was mingled with the laughter and songsof our joyous company. About 7 o'clock all the trees about La Fontainewere illuminated, and Neville led us to a floored place encircled bymagnolia trees in bloom and by garlands running from tree to tree andmingling their perfume with the languishing odor of the magnolias. Onlyheaven can tell how Neville was praised and thanked.
I felt sure that Tonton's good taste had directed the details. There wassomething singular in this young woman. Without education save what shehad taught herself, Tonton spoke with remarkable correctness, and foundmeans to amuse every one. Her letters were curious to see, not a singleword correctly spelled; yet her style was charming, and I cannot expressthe pleasure they gave me, for during more than a year I received them byevery opportunity that presented itself.
But to return to La Fontaine. About seven the handsome Treville de St.Julien came on a horse as black as ebony, and I saw the color mount toSuzanne's forehead. For a wonder he paid Tonton only the attentionsrequired by politeness, and the pretty widow, while still queen of all,belonged that evening entirely to Neville.
The following Saturday my father arrived. The next day, after mass, ourfriends came in a body to say adieu. And on the morrow, amid kisses,handshaking, regrets, tears, and waving handkerchiefs, we departed in thecarriage that was to bear us far and forever from Little Paris, and thefriends we shall never meet again. Suzanne and I wept like children. Onthe fourth day after, the carriage stopped before the door of M. Gerbeau'shouse. I must confess we were not over-polite to Mme. Gerbeau. We embracedher hurriedly, and, leaving my father talking about lands, started on arun for Alix's dwelling.
Oh, dear Alix! How happy she seemed to see us again! How proud to show usthe innovations made in her neat little house! With what touching care hadshe prepared our chamber! She had wished for a sofa, and Joseph had madeher one and covered it with one of the velvet robes of the CountessAurelia de Morainville. And when we went into Alix's own room, Suzanne,whose eye nothing ever escaped, pointed out to me, half hidden behind themosquito-net of the bed, the prettiest little cradle in the world.
"Yes," said Alix, blushing, "I am blessed. I am perfectly happy."
We told her all our adventures and pleasures. She wept when she heard thatthe Countess de la Houssaye had not forgotten her.
"You will see her," said Suzanne. "She will come to see you, without adoubt."
"Ah, Heaven prevent it! Our destinies are too unlike now. Me perhaps theCountess Madelaine might welcome affectionately; but Joseph? Oh, no! Myhusband's lot is mine; I have no wish for any other. It is better that sheand I remain strangers."
And Joseph? How he confessed his joy in seeing us!
During our absence M. Gerbeau had found means for us to return to St.James. It seems that two little boats, resembling steamboats in form, keptup a constant trade in wood--clapboards, _pieux_ [split boards], shingles,even cordwood--between the lakes and the Bayou Teche plantation. M.Gerbeau had taken his skiff and two oarsmen and gone in search of one ofthese boats, which, as he guessed, was not far away. In fact he met it inMexican [now Berwick's] Bay, and for two hundred dollars persuaded thecaptain to take us to St. James. "Yes," said M. Gerbeau to us, "you willmake in a week a journey that might have taken you two months."
The following Monday the captain tied up at M. Gerbeau's landing. It was adroll affair, his boat. You must have seen on plantations what they call ahorse-mill--a long pole on which a man sits, and to which a horse or muleis hitched. Such was the machinery by which we moved. The boat's cabin wasall one room. The berths, one above another, ran all round the room, hungwith long curtains, and men, women, and children--when there wereany--were all obliged to stay in the same apartment.
We remained with Alix to the last moment. The morning we left she gaveSuzanne a pretty ring, and me a locket containing her portrait. In returnmy sister placed upon her finger a ruby encircled with little diamonds;and I, taking off the gold medal I always wore on my neck, whispered:
"Wear it for love of me."
She smiled. [Just as we were parting she handed me the story of herlife.[22]]
At an early hour my father had our trunks, baskets, and mats sent aboardthe _Sirene_; and after many tears, and promises to write and to return,we took our leave. We had quitted St. James the 20th of May. We landedthere once more on the 26th of September. Need I recount the joy of mymother and sisters? You understand all that.
And now, my daughter, the tale is told. Read it to your children andassure them that all is true; that there is here no exaggeration; thatthey can put faith in their old grandmother's story and take their part inher pleasures, her friendships, and her emotions.
FOOTNOTES:[22] See "HOW I GOT THEM," page 14.