PART OF FIRST PAGE, "ALIX MS."]
ALIX DE MORAINVILLE
1773-95.
_Written in Louisiana this 22d of August, 1795, for my dear friendsSuzanne and Francoise Bossier_.
I have promised you the story of my life, my very dear and good friendswith whom I have had so much pleasure on board the flatboat which hasbrought us all to Attakapas. I now make good my promise.
And first I must speak of the place where I was born, of the beautifulChateau de Morainville, built above the little village named Morainvillein honor of its lords. This village, situated in Normandy on the margin ofthe sea, was peopled only and entirely by fishermen, who gained alivelihood openly by sardine-fishing, and secretly, it was said, bysmuggling. The chateau was built on a cliff, which it completely occupied.This cliff was formed of several terraces that rose in a stair one aboveanother. On the topmost one sat the chateau, like an eagle in its nest. Ithad four dentilated turrets, with great casements and immense galleries,that gave it the grandest possible aspect. On the second terrace you foundyourself in the midst of delightful gardens adorned with statues andfountains after the fashion of the times. Then came the avenue, entirelyovershaded with trees as old as Noah, and everywhere on the hill, formingthe background of the picture, an immense park. How my Suzanne would haveloved to hunt in that beautiful park full of deer, hare, and all sorts offeathered game!
And yet no one inhabited that beautiful domain. Its lord and mistress, theCount Gaston and Countess Aurelie, my father and mother, resided in Paris,and came to their chateau only during the hunting season, their sojournnever exceeding six weeks.
Already they had been five years married. The countess, a lady of honor tothe young dauphine, Marie Antoinette, bore the well-merited reputation ofbeing the most charming woman at the court of the king, Louis theFifteenth. Count and countess, wealthy as they were and happy as theyseemed to be, were not overmuch so, because of their desire for a son; forone thing, which is not seen in this country, you will not doubt, deargirls, exists in France and other countries of Europe: it is the eldestson, and never the daughter, who inherits the fortune and titles of thefamily. And in case there were no children, the titles and fortune of theMorainvilles would have to revert in one lump to the nephew of the countand son of his brother, to Abner de Morainville, who at that time was amere babe of four years. This did not meet the wishes of M. and Mme. deMorainville, who wished to retain their property in their own house.
But great news comes to Morainville: the countess is with child. Thesteward of the chateau receives orders to celebrate the event with greatrejoicings. In the avenue long tables are set covered with all sorts ofinviting meats, the fiddlers are called, and the peasants dance, eat, anddrink to the health of the future heir of the Morainvilles. A few monthslater my parents arrived bringing a great company with them; and therewere feasts and balls and hunting-parties without end.
It was in the course of one of these hunts that my mother was thrown fromher horse. She was hardly in her seventh month when I came into the world.She escaped death, but I was born as large as--a mouse! and with oneshoulder much higher than the other.
I must have died had not the happy thought come to the woman-in-waiting toprocure Catharine, the wife of the gardener, Guillaume Carpentier, to bemy nurse; and it is to her care, to her rubbings, and above all to hergood milk, that I owe the capability to amuse you, my dear girls andfriends, with the account of my life--that life whose continuance I trulyowe to my mother Catharine.
When my actual mother had recovered she returned to Paris; and as mynurse, who had four boys, could not follow her, it was decided that Ishould remain at the chateau and that my mother Catharine should staythere with me.
Her cottage was situated among the gardens. Her husband, father Guillaume,was the head gardener, and his four sons were Joseph, aged six years; nextMatthieu, who was four; then Jerome, two; and my foster-brother Bastien, abig lubber of three months.
My father and mother did not at all forget me. They sent me playthings ofall sorts, sweetmeats, silken frocks adorned with embroideries and laces,and all sorts of presents for mother Catharine and her children. I washappy, very happy, for I was worshiped by all who surrounded me. MotherCatharine preferred me above her own children. Father Guillaume would godown upon his knees before me to get a smile [risette], and Joseph oftentells me he swooned when they let him hold me in his arms. It was a happytime, I assure you; yes, very happy.
I was two years old when my parents returned, and as they had brought agreat company with them the true mother instructed my nurse to take meback to her cottage and keep me there, that I might not be disturbed bynoise. Mother Catharine has often said to me that my mother could not bearto look at my crippled shoulder, and that she called me a hunchback. Butafter all it was the truth, and my nurse-mother was wrong to lay thatreproach upon my mother Aurelie.
Seven years passed. I had lived during that time the life of myfoster-brothers, flitting everywhere with them over the flowery grass likethe veritable lark that I was. Two or three times during that period myparents came to see me, but without company, quite alone. They brought mea lot of beautiful things; but really I was afraid of them, particularlyof my mother, who was so beautiful and wore a grand air full of dignityand self-regard. She would kiss me, but in a way very different frommother Catharine's way--squarely on the forehead, a kiss that seemed madeof ice.
One fine day she arrived at the cottage with a tall, slender lady who woreblue spectacles on a singularly long nose. She frightened me, especiallywhen my mother told me that this was my governess, and that I must returnto the chateau with her and live there to learn a host of fine things ofwhich even the names were to me unknown; for I had never seen a bookexcept my picture books.
I uttered piercing cries; but my mother, without paying any attention tomy screams, lifted me cleverly, planted two spanks behind, and passed meto the hands of Mme. Levicq--that was the name of my governess. The nextday my mother left me and I repeated my disturbance, crying, stamping myfeet, and calling to mother Catharine and Bastien. (To tell the truth,Jerome and Matthieu were two big lubbers [rougeots] very peevish andcoarse-mannered, which I could not endure.) Madame put a book into myhands and wished to have me repeat after her; I threw the book at herhead. Then, rightly enough, in despair she placed me where I could see thecottage in the midst of the garden and told me that when the lesson wasended I might go and see my mother Catharine and play with my brothers. Ipromptly consented, and that is how I learned to read.
This Mme. Levicq was most certainly a woman of good sense. She had a kindheart and much ability. She taught me nearly all I know--first of all,French; the harp, the guitar, drawing, embroidery; in short, I say again,all that I know.
I was fourteen years old when my mother came, and this time not alone. Mycousin Abner was with her. My mother had me called into her chamber,closely examined my shoulder, loosed my hair, looked at my teeth, made meread, sing, play the harp, and when all this was ended smiled and said:
"You are beautiful, my daughter; you have profited by the training of yourgoverness; the defect of your shoulder has not increased. I amsatisfied--well satisfied; and I am going to tell you that I have broughtthe Viscomte Abner de Morainville because I have chosen him for yourfuture husband. Go, join him in the avenue."
I was a little dismayed at first, but when I had seen my intended mydismay took flight--he was such a handsome fellow, dressed with so muchtaste, and wore his sword with so much grace and spirit. At the end of twodays he loved me to distraction and I doted on him. I brought him to mynurse's cabin and told her all our plans of marriage and all my happiness,not observing the despair of poor Joseph, who had always worshiped me andwho had not doubted he would have me to love. But who would have thoughtit--a laboring gardener lover of his lord's daughter? Ah, I would havelaughed heartily then if I had known it!
On the evening before my departure--I had to leave with my mother thistime--I went to say adieu to mother C
atharine. She asked me if I lovedAbner.
"Oh, yes, mother!" I replied, "I love him with all my soul"; and she saidshe was happy to hear it. Then I directed Joseph to go and requestMonsieur the cure, in my name, to give him lessons in reading and writing,in order to be able to read the letters that I should write to mynurse-mother and to answer them. This order was carried out to the letter,and six months later Joseph was the correspondent of the family and readto them my letters. That was his whole happiness.
I had been quite content to leave for Paris: first, because Abner wentwith me, and then because I hoped to see a little of all those beautifulthings of which he had spoken to me with so much charm; but how was Idisappointed! My mother kept me but one day at her house, and did not evenallow Abner to come to see me. During that day I must, she said, collectmy thoughts preparatory to entering the convent. For it was actually tothe convent of the Ursulines, of which my father's sister was thesuperior, that she conducted me next day.
Think of it, dear girls! I was fourteen, but not bigger than a lass often, used to the open air and to the caresses of mother Catharine and mybrothers. It seemed to me as if I were a poor little bird shut in a greatdark cage.
My aunt, the abbess, Agnes de Morainville, took me to her room, gave mebonbons and pictures, told me stories, and kissed and caressed me, but herblack gown and her bonnet appalled me, and I cried with all my might:
"I want mother Catharine! I want Joseph! I want Bastien!"
My aunt, in despair, sent for three or four little pupils to amuse me; butthis was labor lost, and I continued to utter the same outcries. At last,utterly spent, I fell asleep, and my aunt bore me to my little room andput me to bed, and then slowly withdrew, leaving the door ajar.
On the second floor of the convent there were large dormitories, wheresome hundreds of children slept; but on the first there were a number ofsmall chambers, the sole furniture of each being a folding bed, awashstand, and a chair, and you had to pay its weight in gold for theprivilege of occupying one of these cells, in order not to be mixed withthe daughters of the bourgeoisie, of lawyers and merchants. My mother, whowas very proud, had exacted absolutely that they give me one of theseselect cells.
Hardly had my aunt left me when I awoke, and fear joined itself to grief.Fancy it! I had never lain down in a room alone, and here I awoke in acorner of a room half lighted by a lamp hung from the ceiling. You canguess I began again my writhings and cries. Thereupon appeared before mein the open door the most beautiful creature imaginable. I took her for afairy, and fell to gazing at her with my eyes full of amazement andadmiration. You have seen Madelaine, and you can judge of her beauty inher early youth. It was a fabulous beauty joined to a manner fair, regal,and good.
She took me in her arms, dried my tears, and at last, at the extremity ofher resources, carried me to her bed; and when I awoke the next day Ifound myself still in the arms of Madelaine de Livilier. From that momentbegan between us that great and good friendship which was everything forme during the time that I passed in the convent. I should have died ofloneliness and grief without Madelaine. I had neither brothers norsisters; she was both these to me: she was older than I, and protected mewhile she loved me.
She was the niece of the rich Cardinal de Segur, who had sent and broughther from Louisiana. This is why Madelaine had such large privileges at theconvent. She told me she was engaged to the young Count Louis lePelletrier de la Houssaye, and I, with some change of color, told her ofAbner.
One day Madelaine's aunt, the Countess de Segur, came to take her to spendthe day at her palace. My dear friend besought her aunt with suchgraciousness that she obtained permission to take me with her, and for thefirst time I saw the Count Louis, Madelaine's _fiance_. He was a veryhandsome young man, of majestic and distinguished air. He had hair andeyes as black as ink, red lips, and a fine mustache. He wore in hisbuttonhole the cross of the royal order of St. Louis, and on his shouldersthe epaulettes of a major. He had lately come from San Domingo [where hehad been fighting the insurgents at the head of his regiment].[23] Yes, hewas a handsome young man, a bold cavalier; and Madelaine idolized him.After that day I often accompanied my friend in her visits to the home ofher aunt. Count Louis was always there to wait upon his betrothed, andAbner, apprised by him, came to join us. Ah! that was a happy time, veryhappy.
At the end of a year my dear Madelaine quitted the convent to be married.Ah, how I wept to see her go! I loved her so! I had neither brothers norsisters, and Madelaine was my heart's own sister. I was very young,scarcely fifteen; yet, despite my extreme youth, Madelaine desired me tobe her bridesmaid, and her aunt, the Countess de Segur, and the Baronessde Chevigne, Count Louis's aunt, went together to find my mother and askher to permit me to fill that office. My mother made many objections,saying that I was too young; but--between you and me--she could refusenothing to ladies of such high station. She consented, therefore, andproceeded at once to order my costume at the dressmaker's.
It was a mass of white silk and lace with intermingled pearls. For theoccasion my mother lent me her pearls, which were of great magnificence.But, finest of all, the Queen, Marie Antoinette, saw me at the church ofNotre Dame, whither all the court had gathered for the occasion,--forCount Louis de la Houssaye was a great favorite,--and now the queen sentone of her lords to apprise my mother that she wished to see me, andcommanded that I be presented at court--_grande rumeur_!
Mamma consented to let me remain the whole week out of the convent. Everyday there was a grand dinner or breakfast and every evening a dance or agrand ball. Always it was Abner who accompanied me. I wrote of all mypleasures to my mother Catharine. Joseph read my letters to her, and, ashe told me in later days, they gave him mortal pain. For the presentationmy mother ordered a suit all of gold and velvet. Madelaine and I werepresented the same day. The Countess de Segur was my escort [marraine] andtook me by the hand, while Mme. de Chevigne rendered the same office toMadelaine. Abner told me that day I was as pretty as an angel. If I was soto him, it was because he loved me. I knew, myself, I was too small, toopale, and ever so different from Madelaine. It was she you should haveseen.
I went back to the convent, and during the year that I passed there I waslonely enough to have died. It was decided that I should be marriedimmediately on leaving the convent, and my mother ordered for me the mostbeautiful wedding outfit imaginable. My father bought me jewels of everysort, and Abner did not spare of beautiful presents.
I had been about fifteen days out of the convent when terrible news causedme many tears. My dear Madelaine was about to leave me forever and returnto America. The reason was this: there was much disorder in the colony ofLouisiana, and the king deciding to send thither a man capable ofrestoring order, his choice fell upon Count Louis de la Houssaye, whosenoble character he had recognized. Count Louis would have refused, for hehad a great liking for France; but [he had lately witnessed the atrocitiescommitted by the negroes of San Domingo, and[24]] something--apresentiment--warned him that the Revolution was near at hand. He was gladto bear his dear wife far from the scenes of horror that were approachingwith rapid strides.
Madelaine undoubtedly experienced pleasure in thinking that she was againgoing to see her parents and her native land, but she regretted to leaveFrance, where she had found so much amusement and where I must remainbehind her without hope of our ever seeing each other again. She wept, oh,so much!
She had bidden me good-bye and we had wept long, and her last evening, theeve of the day when she was to take the diligence for Havre, where thevessel awaited them, was to be passed in family group at the residence ofthe Baroness de Chevigne. Here were present, first the young couple; theCardinal, the Count and Countess de Segur; then Barthelemy de la Houssaye,brother of the Count, and the old Count de [Maurepas, only a few monthsreturned from exile and now at the pinnacle of royal favor].[24] He hadsaid when he came that he could stay but a few hours and had ordered hiscoach to await him below. He was the most lovable old man in the world.All at once Madelaine
said:
"Ah! if I could see Alix once more--only once more!"
The old count without a word slipped away, entered his carriage, and hadhimself driven to the Morainville hotel, where there was that evening agrand ball. Tarrying in the ante-chamber, he had my mother called. Shecame with alacrity, and when she knew the object of the count's visit shesent me to get a great white burnoose, enveloped me in it, and putting myhand into the count's said to me:
"You have but to show yourself to secure the carriage." But the countpromised to bring me back himself.
Oh, how glad my dear Madelaine was to see me! With what joy she kissed me!But she has recounted this little scene to you, as you, Francoise, havetold me.
A month after the departure of the De la Houssayes, my wedding wascelebrated at Notre Dame. It was a grand occasion. The king was presentwith all the court. As my husband was in the king's service, the queenwished me to become one of her ladies of honor.
Directly after my marriage I had Bastien come to me. I made him myconfidential servant. He rode behind my carriage, waited upon me at table,and, in short, was my man of all work.
I was married the 16th of March, 1789, at the age of sixteen. Already therumbling murmurs of the Revolution were making themselves heard likedistant thunder. On the 13th of July the Bastille was taken and the headof the governor De Launay [was] carried through the streets.[25] My motherwas frightened and proposed to leave the country. She came to find me andimplored me to go with her to England, and asked Abner to accompany us.My husband refused with indignation, declaring that his place was near hisking.
"And mine near my husband," said I, throwing my arms around Abner's neck.
My father, like my husband, had refused positively to leave the king, andit was decided that mamma should go alone. She began by visiting theshops, and bought stuffs, ribbons, and laces. It was I who helped her packher trunks, which she sent in advance to Morainville. She did not dare goto get her diamonds, which were locked up in the Bank of France; thatwould excite suspicion, and she had to content herself with such jewelryas she had at her residence. She left in a coach with my father, saying asshe embraced me that her absence would be brief, for it would be easyenough to crush the vile mob. She went down to Morainville, and there,thanks to the devotion of Guillaume Carpentier and of his sons, she wascarried to England in a contrabandist vessel. As she was accustomed toluxury, she put into her trunks the plate of the chateau and also severalvaluable pictures. My father had given her sixty thousand francs andcharged her to be economical.
Soon I found myself in the midst of terrible scenes that I have not thecourage, my dear girls, to recount. The memory of them makes me evento-day tremble and turn pale. I will only tell you that one evening afurious populace entered our palace. I saw my husband dragged far from meby those wretches, and just as two of the monsters were about to seize meBastien took me into his arms, and holding me tightly against his bosomleaped from a window and took to flight with all his speed.
Happy for us that it was night and that the monsters were busy pillagingthe house. They did not pursue us at all, and my faithful Bastien took meto the home of his cousin Claudine Leroy. She was a worker in lace, whom,with my consent, he was to have married within the next fortnight. I hadlost consciousness, but Claudine and Bastien cared for me so well thatthey brought me back to life, and I came to myself to learn that my fatherand my husband had been arrested and conveyed to the Conciergerie.
My despair was great, as you may well think. Claudine arranged a bed forme in a closet [cloisette] adjoining her chamber, and there I remainedhidden, dying of fear and grief, as you may well suppose.
At the end of four days I heard some one come into Claudine's room, andthen a deep male voice. My heart ceased to beat and I was about to faintaway, when I recognized the voice of my faithful Joseph. I opened the doorand threw myself upon his breast, crying over and over:
"O Joseph! dear Joseph!"
He pressed me to his bosom, giving me every sort of endearing name, and atlength revealed to me the plan he had formed, to take me at once toMorainville under the name of Claudine Leroy. He went out with Claudine toobtain a passport. Thanks to God and good angels Claudine was small likeme, had black hair and eyes like mine, and there was no trouble inarranging the passport. We took the diligence, and as I was clothed inpeasant dress, a suit of Claudine's, I easily passed for her.
Joseph had the diligence stop beside the park gate, of which he hadbrought the key. He wished to avoid the village. We entered therefore bythe park, and soon I was installed in the cottage of my adopted parents,and Joseph and his brothers said to every one that Claudine Leroy,appalled by the horrors being committed in Paris, had come for refuge toMorainville.
Then Joseph went back to Paris to try to save my father and my husband.Bastien had already got himself engaged as an assistant in the prison. Butalas! all their efforts could effect nothing, and the only consolationthat Joseph brought back to Morainville was that he had seen its lords onthe fatal cart and had received my father's last smile. These frightfultidings failed to kill me; I lay a month between life and death, andJoseph, not to expose me to the recognition of the Morainville physician,went and brought one from Rouen. The good care of mother Catharine was thebest medicine for me, and I was cured to weep over my fate and my cruellosses.
It was at this juncture that for the first time I suspected that Josephloved me. His eyes followed me with a most touching expression; he paledand blushed when I spoke to him, and I divined the love which the poorfellow could not conceal. It gave me pain to see how he loved me, andincreased my wish to join my mother in England. I knew she had need of me,and I had need of her.
Meanwhile a letter came to the address of fatherGuillaume. It was a contrabandist vessel that broughtit andof the first eveningother to the addressrecognized the writingset me to sobbingall, my heartI began (_Torn off and gone_.)demanded ofmy father ofsaying thatcountry well56added that Abner and I must come also, and that it was nonsense to wish toremain faithful to a lost cause. She begged my father to go and draw herdiamonds from the bank and to send them to her with at least a hundredthousand francs. Oh! how I wept after seeing letter! Mother Catharine to console me but then to make. Then and said to me, Will to make you(_Torn off and gone_.) England, Madame Oh! yes, Joseph would be so well pleased poor fellow the money of family. I
From the way in which, the cabin was built, one could see any one comingwho had business there. But one day--God knows how it happened--a child ofthe village all at once entered the chamber where I was and knew me.
"Madame Alix!" he cried, took to his heels and went down the terracepell-mell [quatre a quatre] to give the alarm. Ten minutes later Matthieucame at a full run and covered with sweat, to tell us that all the villagewas in commotion and that those people to whom I had always been so goodwere about to come and arrest me, to deliver me to the executioners. I ranto Joseph, beside myself with affright.
"Save me, Joseph! save me!"
"I will use all my efforts for that, Mme. la Viscomtesse." At that momentJerome appeared. He came to say that a representative of the people was athand and that I was lost beyond a doubt.
"Not yet," responded Joseph. "I have foreseen this and have preparedeverything to save you, Mme. la Viscomtesse, if you will but let me makemyself well understood."
"Oh, all, all! Do _thou_ understand, Joseph, I will do everything thoudesirest."
"Then," he said, regarding me f
ixedly and halting at each word--"then itis necessary that you consent to take Joseph Carpentier for your spouse."
I thought I had [been] misunderstood and drew back haughtily.
"My son!" cried mother Catharine.
"Oh, you see," replied Joseph, "my mother herself accuses me, andyou--you, madame, have no greater confidence in me. But that is nothing; Imust save you at any price. We will go from here together; we will descendto the village; we will present ourselves at the mayoralty--"
In spite of myself I made a gesture.
"Let me speak, madame," he said. "We have not a moment to lose. Yes, wewill present ourselves at the mayoralty, and there I will espouse you, notas Claudine Leroy, but as Alix de Morainville. Once my wife you havenothing to fear. Having become one of the people, the people will protectyou. After the ceremony, madame, I will hand you the certificate of ourmarriage, and you will tear it up the moment we shall have touched thesoil of England. Keep it precious till then; it is your only safeguard.Nothing prevents me from going to England to find employment, andnecessarily my wife will go with me. Are you ready, madame?"
For my only response I put my hand in his; I was too deeply moved tospeak. Mother Catharine threw both her arms about her son's neck andcried, "My noble child!" and we issued from the cottage guarded byGuillaume and his three other sons, armed to the teeth.
When the mayor heard the names and surnames of the wedding pair he turnedto Joseph, saying:
"You are not lowering yourself, my boy."
At the door of the mayoralty we found ourselves face to face with animmense crowd. I trembled violently and pressed against Joseph. He, neverlosing his presence of mind [sans perdre la carte], turned, saying:
"Allow me, my friends, to present to you my wife. The Viscomtesse deMorainville no longer exists; hurrah for the Citoyenne Carpentier." Andthe hurrahs and cries of triumph were enough to deafen one. Those who themoment before were ready to tear me into pieces now wanted to carry me intriumph. Arrived at the house, Joseph handed me our act of marriage.
"Keep it, madame," said he; "you can destroy it on your arrival inEngland."
At length one day, three weeks after our marriage, Joseph came to tell methat he had secured passage on a vessel, and that we must sail togetherunder the name of Citoyen and Citoyenne Carpentier. I was truly sorry toleave my adopted parents and foster-brother, yet at the bottom of my heartI was rejoiced that I was going to find my mother.
But alas! when I arrived in London, at the address that she had given me,I found there only her old friend the Chevalier d'Ivoy, who told me thatmy mother was dead, and that what was left of her money, with her jewelsand chests, was deposited in the Bank of England. I was more dead thanalive; all these things paralyzed me. But my good Joseph took upon himselfto do everything for me. He went and drew what had been deposited in thebank. Indeed of money there remained but twelve thousand francs; butthere were plate, jewels, pictures, and many vanities in the form of gownsand every sort of attire.
Joseph rented a little house in a suburb of London, engaged an oldFrenchwoman to attend me, and he, after all my husband, made himself myservant, my gardener, my factotum. He ate in the kitchen with the maid,waited upon me at table, and slept in the garret on a pallet.
"Am I not very wicked?" said I to myself every day, especially when I sawhis pallor and profound sadness. They had taught me in the convent thatthe ties of marriage were a sacred thing and that one could not breakthem, no matter how they might have been made; and when my patrician priderevolted at the thought of this union with the son of my nursemy heart pleadedand pleadedhard the causeof poor JJoseph. His (_Evidently torn before Alixcare, his wrote on it, as no wordspresence, became are wanting in the text_.)more and morenecessary. I knew not how to do anything myself, but made him my all inall, avoiding myself every shadow of care or trouble. I must say,moreover, that since he had married me I had a kind of fear of him and wasafraid that I should hear him speak to me of love; but he scarcely thoughtof it, poor fellow:
reverence closed his lips. Thus matters stood when one evening Joseph entered the room (_Opposite page of the where I was reading, same torn sheet. Alix and standing has again written upright before around the rent_.) me, his hat in his hand, saidto me that he had something to tell me. His expression was so unhappy thatI felt the tears mount to my eyes.
"What is it, dear Joseph?" I asked; and when he could answer nothing onaccount of his emotion, I rose, crying:
"More bad news? What has happened to my nurse-mother? Speak, speak,Joseph!"
"Nothing, Mme. la Viscomtesse," he replied. "My mother and Bastien, Ihope, are well. It is of myself I wish to speak."
Then my heart made a sad commotion in my bosom, for I thought he was aboutto speak of love. But not at all. He began again, in a low voice:
"I am going to America, madame."
I sprung towards him. "You go away? You go away?" I cried. "And I,Joseph?"
"You, madame?" said he. "You have money. The Revolution will soon be over,and you can return to your country. There you will find again yourfriends, your titles, your fortune."
"Stop!" I cried. "What shall I be in France? You well know my chateau, mypalace are pillaged and burned, my parents are dead."
"My mother and Bastien are in France," he responded.
"But thou--thou, Joseph; what can I do without thee? Why have youaccustomed me to your tenderness, to your protection, and now comethreatening to leave me? Hear me plainly. If you go I go with you."
He uttered a smothered cry and staggered like a drunken man.
"Alix--madame--"
"I have guessed your secret," continued I. "You seek to go because youlove me--because you fear you may forget that respect which you fancy youowe me. But after all I am your wife, Joseph. I have the right to followthee, and I am going with thee." And slowly I drew from my dressing-casethe act of our marriage.
He looked, at me, oh! in such a funny way, and--extended his arms. I threwmyself into them, and for half an hour it was tears and kisses and wordsof love. For after all I loved Joseph, not as I had loved Abner, butaltogether more profoundly.
The next day a Catholic priest blessed our marriage. A month later we leftfor Louisiana, where Joseph hoped to make a fortune for me. But alas! hewas despairing of success, when he met Mr. Carlo, and--you know, deargirls, the rest.
* * * * *
Roll again and slip into its ancient silken case the small, squaremanuscript which some one has sewed at the back with worsted of the paletint known as "baby-blue." Blessed little word! Time justified the color.If you doubt it go to the Teche; ask any of the De la Houssayes--or count,yourself, the Carpentiers and Charpentiers. You will be more apt to quitbecause you are tired than because you have finished. And while there ask,over on the Attakapas side, for any trace that any one may be able to giveof Dorothea Mueller. She too was from France: at least, not from Normandyor Paris, like Alix, but, like Francoise's young aunt with the white hair,a German of Alsace, from a village near Strasbourg; like her, an emigrant,and, like Francoise, a voyager with father and sister by flatboat from oldNew Orleans up the Mississippi, down the Atchafalaya, and into the land ofAttakapas. You may ask, you may seek; but if you find the faintest traceyou will have done what no one else has succeeded in doing. We shall neverknow her fate. Her sister's we can tell; and we shall now see howdifferent from the stories of Alix and Francoise is that of poor SalomeMueller, even in the same land and almost in the same times.
FOOTNOTES:[23] Inserted by a later hand than the author's.--TRANSLATOR.[24] Inserted by a later hand than the author's.--TRANSLATOR.[25] Alix makes a mistake here of one day.
The Bastille fell on the14th.--TRANSLATOR.