第201章 A MYSTERY(1)

I knew by the light that it was evening when I awoke.

So prisoners mark the passing of the days by a bar of sun light.And as I looked at the green trees in the courtyard, vaguely troubled by I knew not what, some one came and stood in the doorway.It was Nick.

``You don't seem very cheerful,'' said he; ``a man ought to be who has been snatched out of the fire.''

``You seem to be rather too sure of my future,'' I said, trying to smile.

``That's more like you,'' said Nick.``Egad, you ought to be happy--we all ought to be happy--she's gone.''

``She!'' I cried.``Who's gone?''

``Madame la Vicomtesse,'' he replied, rubbing his hands as he stood over me.``But she's left instructions with me for Lindy as long as Monsieur de Carondelet's Bando de Buen Gobierno.You are not to do this, and you are not to do that, you are to eat such and such things, you are to be made to sleep at such and such times.She came in here about an hour ago and took a long look at you before she left.''

``She was not ill?'' I said faintly.

``Faith, I don't know why she was not,'' he said.``She has done enough to tire out an army.But she seems well and fairly happy.She had her joke at my expense as she went through the court-yard, and she reminded me that we were to send a report by Andre every day.''

Chagrin, depression, relief, bewilderment, all were struggling within me.

``Where did she go?'' I asked at last.

``To Les Iles,'' he said.``You are to be brought there as soon as you are strong enough.

``Do you happen to know why she went? I said.

``Now how the deuce should I know?'' he answered.

``I've done everything with blind servility since I came into this house.I never asked for any reason--it never would have done any good.I suppose she thought that you were well on the road to recovery, and she knew that Lindy was an old hand.And then the doctor is to come in.''

``Why didn't you go?'' I demanded, with a sudden remembrance that he was staying away from happiness.

``It was because I longed for another taste of liberty, Davy,'' he laughed.``You and I will have an old-fashioned time here together,--a deal of talk, and perhaps a little piquet,--who knows?''

My strength came back, bit by bit, and listening to his happiness did much to ease the soreness of my heart --while the light lasted.It was in the night watches that my struggles came--though often some unwitting speech of his would bring back the pain.He took delight in telling me, for example, how for hours at a time I had been in a fearful delirium.

``The Lord knows what foolishness you talked, Davy, said he.``It would have done me good to hear you had you been in your right mind.''

``But you did hear me,'' I said, full of apprehensions.

``Some of it,'' said he.``You were after Wilkinson once, in a burrow, I believe, and you swore dreadfully because he got out of the other end.I can't remember all the things you said.Oh, yes, once you were talking to Auguste de St.Gre about money.''

``Money?'' I repeated in a sinking voice.

``Oh, a lot of jargon.The Vicomtesse pushed me out of the room, and after that I was never allowed to be there when you had those flights.Curse the mosquitoes! He seized a fan and began to ply it vigorously.``I remember.

You were giving Auguste a lecture.Then I had to go.''

These and other reminiscences gave me sufficient food for reflection, and many a shudder over the possibilities of my ravings.She had put him out! No wonder.

After a while I was carried to the gallery, and there Iwould talk to the little doctor about the yellow fever which had swept the city.Monsieur Perrin was not much of a doctor, to be sure, and he had a heartier dread of the American invasion than of the scourge.He worshipped the Vicomtesse, and was so devoid of professional pride as to give her freely all credit for my recovery.He too, clothed her with the qualities of statesmanship.

``Ha, Monsieur,'' he said, ``if that lady had been King of France, do you think there would have been any States General, any red bonnets, any Jacobins or Cordeliers?

Parbleu, she would have swept the vicemongers and traitors out of the Palais Royal itself.There would have been a house-cleaning there.I, who speak to you, know it.''

Every day Nick wrote a bulletin to be sent to the Vicomtesse, and he took a fiendish delight in the composition of these.He would come out on the gallery with ink and a blank sheet of paper and try to enlist my help.He would insert the most ridiculous statements, as for instance, ``Davy is worse to-day, having bribed Lindy to give him a pint of Madeira against my orders.'' Or, ``Davy feigns to be sinking rapidly because he wishes to have you back.'' Indeed, I was always in a torture of doubt to know what the rascal had sent.

His company was most agreeable when he was recounting the many adventures he had had during the five years after he had left New Orleans and been lost to me.These would fill a book, and a most readable book it would be if written in his own speech.His love for the excitement of the frontier had finally drawn him back to the Cumberland country near Nashville, and he had actually gone so far as to raise a house and till some of the land which he had won from Darnley.It was perhaps characteristic of him that he had named the place ``Rattle-and-Snap'' in honor of the game which had put him in possession of it, and ``Rattle-and-Snap'' it remains to this day.He was going back there with Antoinette, so he said, to build a brick mansion and to live a respectable life the rest of his days.

There was one question which had been in my mind to ask him, concerning the attitude of Monsieur de St.Gre.