This was intentionally spoken loud enough for me to hear it; and I should have felt grateful for such an offer, had I not suspected some sinister motive for the lawyers generosity. The doctor met the proposal with still further objections.
Impossible, said he; bring on fever, great risk, would not take the responsibility, bad wound, much loss of blood, must remain where he is for the present at least, might be taken to the hotel in a day or two when stronger.
The promise of my removal in a day or two appeared to satisfy the weasel Gayarre, or rather he became satisfied that such was the only course that could be taken with me, and the consultation ended.
Gayarre now approached the bed to take leave, and I could trace
that ironical expression playing in the pupils of his little eyes as he pronounced some pretended phrases of consolation. He little knew to whom he was speaking. Had I uttered my name it would perhaps have brought the colour to his pale cheek, and caused him to make an abrupt exit. Prudence prevented me from declaring it; and when the doctor requested to know upon whom he had the honour of attending, I adopted the pardonable strategy, in use among distinguished travellers, of giving a nom du voyage . I assumed my maternal patronymic of Rutherford, Edward Rutherford.
Recommending me to keep myself quiet, not to attempt leaving my bed, to take certain prescriptions at certain hours, etcetera, etcetera, the doctor took his leave; Gayarre having already gone out before him.
Chapter Seventeen Aurore.
Why the desire an anxiety, in fact to have me removed to the hotel? Evidently there was some strong motive, since he proposed to pay the expenses; for from my slight knowledge of the man I knew him to be the very opposite to generous!
What can be his motive for my removal? I asked myself.
Ha! I have it I have the explanation! I see through his designs clearly! This fox, this cunning avocat , this guardian, is no doubt in love with his own ward! She is young, rich, beautiful, a belle, and he old, ugly, mean, and contemptible; but what of that? He does not think himself either one or the other; and she bah! he may even hope: far less reasonable hopes have been crowned with success. He knows the world; he is a lawyer; he knows at least her world. He is her solicitor; holds her affairs entirely in his hands; he is guardian, executor, agent all; has perfect and complete control. With such advantages, what can he not effect? All that he may desire her marriage, or her ruin. Poor lady! I pity her!
Strange to say, it was only pity . That it was not another feeling was a mystery I could not comprehend.
The entrance of Scipio interrupted my reflections. A young girl assisted him with the plates and dishes. This was Chloe, his daughter, a child of thirteen, or thereabouts, but not black like the father! She was a yellow girl, with rather handsome features. Scipio explained this. The mother of his leettle Chlo, as he called her, was a mulatta, and Chlo hab taken arter de ole oman. Hya! hya!
The tone of Scipios laugh showed that he was more than satisfied proud, in fact of being the father of so light-skinned and pretty a little creature as Chloe!
Chloe, like all her kind, was brimful of curiosity, and in rolling about the whites of her eyes to get a peep at the buckra stranger who had saved her mistress life, she came near breaking cups, plates, and dishes; for which negligence Scipio would have boxed her ears, but for my intercession. The odd expressions and gestures, the novel behaviour of both father and daughter, the peculiarity of this slave-life, interested me.
I had a keen appetite, notwithstanding my weakness. I had eaten nothing on the boat; in the excitement of the race, supper had been forgotten by most of the passengers, myself among the number. Scipios preparations now put my palate in tune, and I did ample justice to the skill of Chloes mother, who, as Scipio informed me, was de boss in de kitchen. The tea strengthened me; the chicken, delicately fricasséed and garnished upon rice, seemed to refill my veins with fresh blood. With the exception of the slight pain of my wound, I already felt quite restored.
My attendants removed the breakfast things, and after a while Scipio returned to remain in the room with me, for such were his orders.
And now, Scipio, I said, as soon as we were alone, tell me of Aurore!
Rore, massr!
Yes Who is Aurore?
Poor slave, massr; jes like Ole Zip heamseff.
The vague interest I had begun to feel in Aurore vanished at once.
A slave! repeated I, involuntarily, and in a tone of disappointment.
She Missa Génies maid, continued Scipio; dress missas hair wait on her sit wi her read to her do ebbery ting
Read to her! what! a slave?
My interest in Aurore began to return.
Ye,
massr daat do Rore. But I splain to you. Ole Massr Sançon berry good to de coloured people teach many ob um read de books specially Rore. Rore he struckt read, write, many, many tings, and young Missa Génie she teach her de music. Rore she complish gal berry complish gal. Know many ting; jes like de white folks. Plays on de peany plays on de guitar guitar jes like banjo, an Ole Zip play on daat heamseff he do. Wugh!