CHAPTER III.
A
AFEW days later, Hugh Norris rushed unexpectedly into Lizzie’s presence.
‘I have come to wish you good-bye!’ he exclaimed, in a voice of distress. ‘I have received orders this morning which compel me to sail at once; and as theTrevelyan’srepairs are complete, I have no possible excuse for disobedience.’
Lizzie changed colour slightly as she heard the news, but she answered quietly,—
‘And I am sure that, under any circumstances, you would make none. Have you not often told me that a sailor’s first duty is towards his ship?’
‘Ah, yes; that is all very well in theory,’ he said, with a rueful look, ‘but you cannot know what I feel at leaving you alone, Lizzie, at this anxious time.’
‘I shall be safe enough, my dear friend, so have no fears for me. When do you sail?’
‘With the tide this evening, and hardly know how I shall get through all my work by that time. I didn’t expect to get off for another week.’
‘Then I mustn’t detain you, Captain Norris; though it was good of you to think of me at the last.’
‘Of whom else should I think? I shall not be away long this time, Lizzie.I only go to England and back. A couple of months may see me here again. What can I do for you there?’
‘Nothing, thanks. I have no commissions for you.’
‘Have you spoken to Mr Courtney yet on the subject of your family?’
Lizzie started.
‘Oh, yes; and that reminds me that I have some letters I want to show you. Wait a moment Captain Norris, whilst I fetch them—’
‘Missy Liz! Missy Liz!’ piped a shrill little voice at the open door.
‘What is it, Pete?’ she asked of a negro boy, whose dusky face was anxiously peering in upon them.
‘Oh, Missy Liz, please come quick to Mammy Chloe’s baby! That’s kinder sick; taken drefful, with its eyes turnedup so, and its body quite stiff like a piece of wood!’
‘Convulsions!’ exclaimed Lizzie, as she threw the packet of letters she had just taken from her desk across the table, and put her hat upon her head. ‘Captain Norris, Imustgo. Read those whilst I am gone.’
‘But I cannot stay till you come back, Lizzie. Each moment is precious to me. Give me five minutes more.’
‘I dare not. This is a new-born infant, and a matter of life and death. God bless you, and good-bye!’
He had only time to wring her hand, when she darted from the house. He watched her figure running swiftly towards the negroes’ quarters, and then returned to the shaded apartment, with a deep sigh. What interest had he then in the packet of letters she hadleft him to peruse? Lizzie was gone. He should not see her again, perhaps for months, and the world seemed to be a blank without her. In the hope of her speedy return, he sat down for a few minutes more, and mechanically drew the letters towards him. But as his eye fell upon the written words his countenance changed, and his expression became one of the deepest interest. He hastily scanned through the letters, making sundry notes as he did so, and then, with a long low whistle, he tied the envelopes together again, and, laying them upon Lizzie’s desk, walked to the window to watch for some token of her return. None came. The Indian sun was blazing in all its splendour on the tropical leaves and flowers, the pathway to the coolies’ huts was one long line of white dust glittering likegolden sand; but not a sound could be heard but the far-off hum of the workers in the cotton fields, not a living creature to be seen but Rosa in the shaded verandah, with Maraquita’s child slumbering on her knees, and an aged negro, long past work, who was warming his stiffened limbs in the sunshine. Hugh Norris watched impatiently for a few minutes from the open door, and then, with a rapid glance at his watch, and a deep sigh, he unwillingly prepared to leave the bungalow.
‘Be a good girl to your mistress, Rosa,’ he said, as he passed the yellow girl; ‘take great care of her and the baby, and I’ll bring you a beautiful string of beads when I come back from England.’
‘Tank you, sar,’ replied Rosa. ‘I’ll be berry good all time you away; and I’d like a nice shawl too, sar.’
‘Well, you’re not bashful, Rosa,’ replied Hugh Norris, laughing; ‘but you shall have the shawl too, if you’ll keep your promise. And if there should be any trouble on the plantation—you know what I mean—take Missy Lizzie up to the White House at once, and don’t mind what she says about staying here.’
‘I understand, sar; but nebber you fear. De niggers on dis plantation too good for dat. They lub Massa and Missus Courtney; and as for Missy Liz, they die for her—dat’s jes’ so.’
Captain Norris gave a sigh of relief.
‘I hope so, Rosa, and it makes me happier to hear you say it; but still I am not easy. But take this and buy yourself a new gown; and remember, when you wear it, that you have promised me to be faithful.’
He thrust a five-dollar note into herhand as he spoke, and with one yearning look in the direction of the negro quarters, walked rapidly away towards the town. Rosa rolled her eyes with delight at the feel of the five-dollar note.
‘Hegone ’coon too,’ she thought, with a sapient air; ‘dar’s another what Missy Liz have done for. And she’s so quiet all de time. Dat’s what beats me. ’Pears as if she didn’t care if theywas“gone” or not. Wall, if dey all gib me five-dollar notes, I wish there was a thousand of them.’
Meanwhile, Lizzie was kneeling down beside Mammy Chloe’s straw mattress, putting the poor little black baby into hot baths, and watching by it as tenderly as if it had been a princess of the blood royal, until the attack of convulsions had ceased, and it was sleeping peacefully on its mother’s breast again.
‘Dar now, dat’s jes’ wonderful!’ exclaimedthe crowd of dusky mortals, who had anxiously watched her proceedings, ‘dat babby jes’ dyin’, ’pears as though death was in its face, and its body cold and stiff a’ready, and Missy Liz comes ’long and touches it, and it’s as well as ever in half an hour. Missy Liz, youtooclever! You like de Lord, Who touches with little finger, and ebberybody well again. You jes’ white angel, Missy Liz—no mistake about dat.’
‘My dear friends, you make too much of my poor services for you. You could all do nearly as much for yourselves, if you would only let me teach you. Mammy Chloe made her baby sick. She says she gave it some sweet potato yesterday.’
‘Only tiny leetel bit, Missy Liz, out ob my own mouth!’ cried the mother.
‘However little it was, Chloe, it was too much for a baby of three days old. Howoften must I tell you to give your little infants nothing but the breast? Your baby is safe again now, but if you feed her with potatoes, and rice, and bread, she will have another fit, and next time I may be able to do nothing for her.’
Hereupon rose a chorus of dissentient voices.
‘Oh, Missy Liz, how you saying dat? You can cure ebberyting, Missy Liz. You mended Dicky’s arm, and cured old Jake’s rheumatiz, and bringed de life back to Clairey, when she fell into de water, and was dead.’
‘No, no!’ disclaimed Lizzie, laughing, ‘she wasn’tdead, Betsy. I can’t go as far as to bring the dead to life again.’
‘B’lieve you could, Missy Liz, if you tried, for you’se jes’ wonderful all round; and de niggers nebber had a better friend—dat’s so.’
‘Ay, Massa Courcelles say dat last night, Auntie Bell. He say Massa Courtney and de other planters dam bad trash, and better out ob de way; but nobody must hurt Missy Liz, because she’s de niggers’ friend, and lub ’em jes’ like herself.’
‘Monsieur de Courcelles!’ echoed Lizzie, thinking the negress had made some mistake. ‘How could he have said that last night? He is not in San Diego.’
‘Massa Courcelles not in San Diego?’ repeated the shrill voice of Betsy. ‘Oh, Missy Liz, who tell you dat ar lie? Massa Courcelles nebber leave de plantation yet. He’s living up at old Josh’s shanty, t’other side of de avenue, and he comes along of evenings, and talks to us all of our troubles.’
Lizzie’s brow flushed darkly. Whatcould be the meaning of Henri de Courcelles hiding himself on Beauregard? For what reason was he hanging about the plantation, and mixing familiarly with the people whom he professed to abhor?
‘And what troubles have you that you can confide to a gentleman’s ears, Betsy?’ she demanded reprovingly. ‘Monsieur de Courcelles was not so kind to you whilst he was your overseer, that you should expect to find a friend in him now. There is some deeper meaning, I am afraid, in his pretended interest in you, than that of making your life more comfortable.’
‘You may well say that, Miss Lizzie!’ cried Jerusha, who was standing in the crowd, with her baby in her arms. ‘Dat man nebber sorry for nobody but himself. What he care if our work is hard, or our backs ache wid de sun, or ourhuts is dark, or de food common? Did he care whenmyback was bowed wid pain, and my head wid shame, and I couldn’t hardly stand upon my legs? Didn’t he strike me and my poor leetle boy, and say, “D—n you! Go hell! I make you work like a dog”?’
‘Hush, hush, Jerusha!’ exclaimed Lizzie, as she rose and placed her hand kindly on the shoulder of the excited coolie. ‘I know you have had your troubles, my poor girl. I know Monsieur de Courcelles has wronged you terribly, but you must try to be patient, and forgive, as—as—we all have to do sometimes.’
But Jerusha shook the compassionating touch off her.
‘No, Missy Liz,’ she said loudly, ‘Ican’tforgive. If he had given me one kind word, I’se have worked for him tomy last day, and been glad only to see him well and happy; but he’s bad all through, to de very core. He wrong more dan me. Ah, I know plenty tings people not thinking! and now he come and ’cite dese niggers to revenge demselves, and send all de planters out of de island, and keep de fields for dere own use. Dat his way of “paying out” somebody, Missy Liz. ButIknow him and his dark ways, and if dese people rise ’gainst de planters, Massa Courcelles shall be de first to go, if I kill him with my own hand.’
‘Rise!’ cried Lizzie indignantly. ‘Surely, after all the kindness they have experienced from Mr and Mrs Courtney, there is no one on this plantation so wicked as to dream of rising. What should they do it for? What more can they desire than they alreadypossess? There are no hands on the island more looked after and cared for than those on Beauregard.’
‘I dunno dat,’ chimed in a discontented voice. ‘San Souci niggers gets a tot of rum ebery night, and a quarter of a pound more meat thanwedo.’
‘Who said that?’ exclaimed Lizzie quickly, turning round. ‘Ah, it wasyou, Aunt Sally! That’s a nice grateful thing to say, when you were down with fever three weeks this year, and received your wages all the same, though you couldn’t do a stroke of work. That’s the best return you can make, is it? And you know why the San Souci hands get extra rations well enough,—because the plantation is so near the swamp, and so unhealthy in consequence, that they are half their time down with fever and ague. Youought to be ashamed of yourself, to set such a bad example to the others.’
‘I only repeating what Massa Courcelles say,’ replied Aunt Sally sulkily.
‘Then Monsieur de Courcelles should be ashamed of himself. I have no hesitation in saying it,’ continued Lizzie warmly. ‘I have been brought up amongst you all since I was a little child, and I am a witness to the kind and indulgent treatment you have received from your employers. Mr Courtney has never spared money or trouble to make his hands comfortable and happy, and if you have ever had any cause of complaint, it has been against this very man who is inciting you now to feel rebellious and ungrateful!’
‘De oberseer only act on de Massa’s orders,’ grumbled Aunt Sally again.
‘It is not true!’ cried Lizzie indignantly.‘Mr Courtney never ordered Monsieur de Courcelles to do anything that was cruel or unjust. He left a great deal of power in his hands, because he believed him to be a good man, and worthy of his trust; but he found out his mistake, and that is why he has been sent away.’
‘Missy Liz speaks God’s truth,’ exclaimed Jerusha, ‘and you niggers know she do! What hasn’t dat man done to us? Didn’t he starve old Jakes for three days ’cause he not clean horse proper? and didn’t he strike Aunt Hannah ’cross de face with his whip, and make de ’sypelas come out? Didn’t he take me up to his bungalow, and tell me I lib dere all my life, and den kick me out like a dog ’cause I got a poor leetel baby? Haven’t you niggers said, times out of mind, you’d like to kill him forall he done, and that it was only ’cause Missy Liz like him dat he wasn’t dead long ago? If you says “No” now, den you’se all liars, and a lot of trash dat is afraid to stick to your own words.’
‘Jerusha is right,’ said Lizzie. ‘You were all afraid of Monsieur de Courcelles, and spoke against him, whilst he was your overseer; but now that he has no authority over you, you allow his specious tongue to lead your minds astray. My dear friends, be warned in time. Monsieur de Courcelles has no right to be on this plantation at all, and he only comes here for a bad purpose. You mustn’t listen to him. I am sorry to say it before you, but he is not a good man. I loved him once very dearly,’ continued Lizzie, with a great effort, and her cheeks dyed crimson, ‘and believed him to be all that was upright and honourable, but I found out I waswrong, as you will find out you are wrong, when it may be too late. Do you know that I have but to go to Mr Courtney, and inform him of the mutinous ideas you are openly expressing, to have you put into prison? And the new Governor is very strict, as you may have heard, and makes an example of all rebels. He is determined to crush the feeling of mutiny out of San Diego, whatever it may cost.’
‘Perhaps Gubnor get crushed hisself,’ suggested Betsy sullenly.
‘Don’t talk nonsense!’ cried Lizzie sharply. ‘What could a handful of coloured people do against the military forces? You would all be shot down and killed, before you knew where you were.’
She spoke boldly and decisively, but her heart was sinking all the while. If the negro population of the island roseen masse, the slaughter might be terriblebefore peace could be restored amongst them. She thought of her benefactors the Courtneys, of poor heedless Maraquita and the kind-hearted Governor,—a little too of herself, and shuddered. And Henri de Courcelles also. Would he not be overwhelmed by the storm he was taking such pains to raise? At all risks, she said to herself, she would see him, and warn him of the danger he ran in turning against his late employers.
‘Which of you has been listening to Monsieur de Courcelles’ inflammatory talk?’ she asked presently, as she looked round upon the women.
‘All of us,’ answered Aunt Sally. ‘He come down to our huts of evenings, and sit dere, and tell us how Massa Courtney treat him wuss den nigger, and how we’se free coloured people, and should stan’ no nonsense.’
‘He is worse than I thought him,’ said Lizzie. ‘He must stop it at once, or I shall inform Mr Courtney, and have him turned off the premises.’
‘Kill him, Missy Liz,kill him!’ hissed Jerusha, between her clenched teeth; ‘dat is de only way to crush de rattlesnake.’
‘Don’t speak like that, Jerusha. It is wicked, and you do not mean it.’
But the Indian girldidmean it all the same.
‘Where did you say that Monsieur de Courcelles was staying, Betsy?’ inquired Lizzie, a few moments after.
‘At Uncle Josh’s shanty, t’other side of avenue. He mayn’t be dere now, Missy Liz, but he sleeps dere ob nights.’
‘If de door would fasten, I’d set fire to dat rotten shanty, before anoder moon,’ remarked Jerusha.
‘Well, I must leave you now,’ said theDoctor’s daughter, with a deep sigh; ‘but remember what I say. The next time I hear any talk like this of to-day, I shall go straight to Mr Courtney, and ask him to dismiss the whole lot of you. Then you will starve without any work to do, and will be sorry you left your comfortable huts, and kind employers, at the instigation of a villain.’
‘Massa Courtney starve too when he got no coolies to pick cotton and rice for him,’ muttered some one in the crowd.
Lizzie saw plainly that the disaffection had spread too effectually to be quenched by her single arguments, and so she left them, and, wrapped in thought, walked leisurely away from the coolie quarters. Her first step, she felt, must be to see Henri de Courcelles, and with that intention she directed her feet towards Uncle Josh’s shanty, which stood somewhatapart from the rest. The sun was now high in the heavens, and no European was abroad who could rest at home. Lizzie’s broad-brimmed hat and white umbrella sheltered her sufficiently in the shady plantation, but she would not have ventured out, except at the call of duty, at so late an hour in the morning, and so she firmly calculated on finding Monsieur de Courcelles within the hut. She was not disappointed. Old Uncle Josh, who was an aged negro almost past work, and only kept to do light jobs about the garden and stables, came to the door with much caution to answer Lizzie’s knock for admittance, and was about to declare that he knew nothing of Monsieur de Courcelles, when a voice from within called out to him to admit the lady, and not make a d—d fool of himself. So Lizzie passed in, and found herself face toface with the man she had believed to be hundreds of miles away.
‘Monsieur,’ she commenced hurriedly, ‘I should not be here, except that I have something of the utmost importance to say to you. You must send this man away, so that he may not hear us.’
‘Go up to the plantation, Uncle Josh, or anywhere you like, and don’t come back for an hour,’ said De Courcelles, in a voice of authority; and the old negro nodded in acquiescence, and shambled off.
‘Are you sure he is safe?’ demanded Lizzie, as the man disappeared.
‘Safe as death! I have him under my thumb,’ was the confident reply. ‘And now, what can you have to say to me, Lizzie? After our last parting, I hardly expected you would seek me out of your own accord.’
‘Neither should I have done so, exceptthat the welfare of those I love more than myself is at stake. Monsieur, why are you still on the plantation of Beauregard?’
‘I think that ismybusiness sooner than yours.’
‘Indeed it is my business,—the business of every one who regards the Courtneys as benefactors. Your presence here can be for no good purpose. It spells ruin and devastation for them. By your false arguments you are inciting these ignorant coloured people to rebel; you are making them discontented—not to say bloodthirsty; and the upshot of your evil counsel will be a mutiny, that will involve their own downfall with those of their employers, and, perhaps, lead to murder and rapine.’
‘And what do I care if it does? It will be no more than they deserve.’
‘Oh, Henri, you cannot think what you are saying! Surely you would never be so wicked! What have the Courtneys done to make you so revengeful? They were always the kindest of patrons to you, until this unhappy business occurred with Maraquita. And even to the last they were both just and generous. How can you find it in your heart to injure them?’
‘They are Maraquita’s parents,’ he answered gloomily.
‘And would you avenge her falsehood—her broken faith—upon them? Monsieur, that is not like yourself! It is unworthy of any one calling himself a man.’
‘What right had they to turn me off Beauregard, then? It was only done to shieldher, because they suspect the truth, and are afraid I might provea dangerous rival.Shemarries the Governor of San Diego, and is lapped in luxury and comfort, whilstI(who am morally her husband) am sent adrift, like a rudderless boat, to toss anywhere on the sea of life. But I’ll be even with her yet, and her bald-headed old ape of a partner too.’
‘Henri, you must not speak like that,’ said Lizzie firmly. ‘I feel for your disappointment—indeed I do; it must be a bitterly hard one; but to try and revenge yourself in this manner is a cowardly and wicked thing. The feeling of disaffection is rife enough in the island, without your adding to it. I beg—I pray of you to leave the plantation, and not return. You have no right here, and if you remain, I shall consider it my duty to inform Mr Courtney; and you know how painful it would be forme to say anything to him against you. Henri, for the sake of old times, do as I ask you.’
‘You are a good woman, Lizzie—I have always maintained that—and, if you wish it, I will go. But, mind you, my departure will not stop the rising mutiny, any more than my remaining here hatched it into life. The native population is ripe for rebellion, and it is only now a question of weeks—perhaps days—before they burst into open revolt. I am glad I have seen you, to warn you against it. The coolies will not harm you, I am sure—they love and reverence you too much—but they may frighten you, and I should wish to prevent even that. But as for the rest—well! I shall not be satisfied till I see the White House and Government House in ashes, and their owners weltering in their blood!’
The expression of his face was so murderous as he spoke, that Lizzie fairly screamed,—
‘Oh, Henri, Henri, surely you arenotin earnest! You would never countenance nor encourage so horrible an idea! You would save those who have been good to you—whom you once believed you loved—at the risk of your own life! Tell me it is the truth, for I will never leave you till you acknowledge it.’
Henri de Courcelles seized her two hands in a grip of iron, and drew her towards him, until their faces nearly touched each other.
‘Lizzie Fellows,’ he exclaimed roughly, to hide his emotion, ‘if I could have gone on loving you, if that heartless jade had not come between us with her mock innocence and her fatal beautyand blinded my eyes to your superior virtues, I should have been a happier and better man to-day. But now, I know it is too late. You have ceased to love me, and I shall never again be able to lay any claim to your hand.’
‘But I have not ceased to care if you are a good man or a bad one, Henri,’ she answered, through her tears; ‘and I entreat you now, by your memory of the past, to do what I ask you, and leave Beauregard.’
‘Iwill, because you ask me; but, as I have already told you, it will not make the difference you imagine. I could no more stay the progress of this mutiny now, than I could single-handed quench the fire of a burning city. It has gone too far for that.Besides, I have no desire to do so. My heart thirsts for revenge, and I shall only quit Beauregard to join another set of rebels, and perhaps a more dangerous one.’
‘Henri, cannot I persuade you to give up that madness also?’
‘No, Lizzie, the time is past. Maraquita’s falsehood has made me reckless, and I only live now to one end,—to see her punished as she deserves.’
‘Leave her to Heaven, Henri. Do you think her infidelity will not be its own punishment? How many nights will she lie awake, poor child, wanting your love, wantingmine, which used, at one time, to make all her happiness? How often will her heart yearn—for Quitahasa heart, Henri, though it is choked up with vanity andlove of self—for the days she spent with us,—for the poor little innocent she has left behind her? Ah, neither you nor I can measure the pain which remorse will bring her!’
‘Don’t you believe it. You judge her by yourself, and your sex is the only likeness between you. She is all bad, Lizzie, false from head to foot, and the sooner the world is rid of her, the better.’
‘And areyouthe one who should be her judge?’ replied Lizzie mournfully; ‘can you bring clean hands into court, Henri, with which to condemn her? No, I am not alluding to myself. It was not your fault, perhaps, if you found upon a closer acquaintance that you could not love me as you once imagined; but what of Jerusha—the poor little coolie girl with whom youwere carrying on a pretension of affection at the same time that you were deceiving Maraquita? How can you find it in your heart to contemplate revenge on her for an error of which you were guilty yourself?’
‘You women don’t understand these things, Lizzie. No one but a little fool like Jerusha would have believed for a moment that I was in earnest, or that such an irregular business could possibly last more than a few months.’
‘Yet Jerusha vows to have her revenge on you, as warmly as you do to have yours on Maraquita.’
At this piece of intelligence, Henri de Courcelles changed colour.
‘If that is the case, your advice has not come too soon. These coolies are the very devil to stick to an idea if they once get it in their head, and I shallwake up some night, perhaps, to find Miss Jerusha’s fingers at my throat, if I don’t clear out. Curse the little jade! She’s been more trouble to me than she’s worth.’
‘And may be the occasion of more yet,’ replied Lizzie, who saw the way, by taking advantage of his fear, to make him hold to his purpose. ‘She is dead set against you, Henri—I am witness to that—and constantly speaking of her wrongs to the rest. She swears she will have your life some way or other; and for that reason only, I think it would be much wiser of you to leave the plantation. She is quite capable indeed of betraying you to Mr Courtney; and such a proceeding might lead to your arrest, on a suspicion of felonious purposes. Now, do you see the danger you are in?’
‘Indeed I do, and I shall not sleep another night on Beauregard: you may take my word for that. Indeed, when I come to think of it, I cannot imagine how I can have been such a fool as to run the risk for so long. There are plenty of places in San Diego where I can be safer, and bide my time for my revenge.’
‘Do more, whilst you are about it, Henri. Leave San Diego altogether, and your idea of revenge behind you. It will never make you any happier, and it may cast a haunting regret over all your future. And you are still young. There is perhaps a happy life looming for you in the distance, if you will try and forget the failure of your youth.’
‘No, Lizzie; you speak to deaf ears. I will fulfil your wish, and leave thisplace. Be satisfied with that, and when I am gone, forget all about me. I was never worthy to kiss even the hem of your garment, and my darkest shame will ever be that I permitted you to waste a single thought upon me. Goodbye, my dear. Don’t stay here any longer, for your presence, and the memories it brings with it, unman and make a coward of me. By this time to-morrow I shall have left Beauregard for ever.’
‘Thank Heaven for that,’ replied Lizzie, as she obeyed his request, and left the hut.
Her mind was not wholly at ease concerning him, because she saw that he was doggedly bent upon having his own way; but she had, at all events, succeeded in scaring him off the property of her benefactors, and trusted that when his evilinfluence was removed from them, the hands of Beauregard would return to their former condition of obedience and contentment.