University of Virginia Library

12. CHAPTER XII.
The Planter's Villa.

It was on one of those mellow, sunny afternoons peculiar to Louisiana,
just before evening, when the cool breeze, following the river as the
blood follows the veins, invites alike the planter and the slave to his
piazza or his cabin threshold, to enjoy its refreshing influence.

A gentleman almost five and forty years of age, his brow shaded by
a broad palmetto sombrero, was riding homeward along the river bank.
He was mounted upon a gracefully-limbed horse, that ambled along at
a pace that a lady would have loved. Behind him a few yards, followed
a negro servant, also well mounted.

From time to time, the horseman would turn his head to watch the
slow progress of a brig of war, that was moving up the river under a
broad head of snowy canvass, every sail being set to catch the light
wind that was just rising, and hardly filling the sails.

He seemed to regard her only with admiration rather than with
curiosity; though it was not very common among the numerous vessels
that daily passed up and down the majestic river, to number among
them an armed vessel.

He arrived, at length, at an imposing gateway that opened upon an
avenue of orange trees that led to a very imposing and elegant structure,
in the style of an Italian Villa. As he entered the gate, which
his slave opened and closed after him, he lingered an instant to gaze
upon the brig which was half a mile below, and then cantered up the
avenue. He passed from the avenue through a beautiful open garden
with carriage-ways winding through it, and alighted in front of the
mansion, where he was welcomed by a very noble looking maiden, with
raven hair bound and braided like a coronet upon her brow, dark
oriental eyes, and a superb figure. She had been watching his approach
from the elevated piazza, which commanded a view of the river
by glimpses through the trees.

`You have returned too late, dear father!' she cried.

`No, no, my daughter,' said the gentleman, with a smile of paternal
pride and affection, as he gazed upon her charming face. `It is not
too late to ride for half an hour. I could not return from the padre's
sooner. He insisted on my remaining to look over the plans of the
new church he is to build in the parish; and then he must have a game
at billiards with me, and then I had to go and look at his dog kennel
and admire his litters.'

`I shall give the padre a rap when I see him, for taking up so much
of your time. I have new music for you to listen to, which is better
than the yelping of his puppies! Then I have—'

`Do n't scold Dominie Sanchez, Auguste, for we have so few neighbors,
and are so far removed from town, that I really do n't know what
I should do, but for him. It is a great blessing,' added Mr. Livaudais,
`to have a merry priest in one's neighborhood.'

`Yes, I dare say the gentlemen think so; for they sent poor padre
Bisente back to the bishop, because he would n't or could n't play at
billiards.'

`Could n't, girl! He did n't know a cue from a mace, nor a “pocket”
from a pouch. But get ready to ride. The sunset is pleasant,
and the air fresh. A gallop on the river-road for a league and back,
will be far enough. There is a gun-brig coming up the river close to
the shore, which will be an interesting object to look at as we canter
along.'

`I saw it, sir, from the piazza, and thought it was too beautiful for
an ordinary merchant vessel.'

`So you have a sailor's eye, have you! But do n't delay. Every
minute of this fine evening is precious. I have sent Pierre round for
your bay.'

The brig of war was the Lady of the Gulf. She had come in sight
of the villa, about a quarter of an hour before Mr. Livaudais had discovered
her in riding homeward from the priest's house, which was
situated a mile and a half below.

Upon discovering the villa, which was indicated to him by a pilot
who was on board, Hastings took a spy-glass and went forward to have
a clear view of it. He was soon joined by Marshall.

`Well, she lives in a beautiful place, Harry! What a princely gentleman
her father must be! What do you discover, eh! that your
hand shakes so, and your face deepens in color?'

`I see her! I see her!'

`What? Auguste?'

`Yes. It is impossible to mistake her air and figure, even at this
distance. She is upon the piazza!'

`Let me look. You will see her close at hand soon, so let me have
the glass.'

`Not yet, not yet. I am not mistaken! It is she, and alive and well!'

`What good eyes a lover's are. Why, my dear man, it is a mile off!'

`But the spy-glass brings her nearer.'

`I wish it would bring her into your very arms. Let me look.'

`There! She has disappeared! No, she has returned, and seems
watching the brig.'

`Bring your glass to bear on the two men on horseback riding along
above them.'

`I see them! It is Mr. Livaudais himself, and a slave.'

`Are you sure?'

`Yes. I can't mistake him. He is a large man with an imposing
Lafayette-like person, bold and military. He has disappeared through
the gate to the villa.'

`Well, you are a lucky fellow, Harry, to see them so early, and to
have the satisfaction of knowing that they are alive and well. Where
shall I land you?'

`I hardly know what course to pursue,' said Hastings agitated.
`Too abrupt a presentation before her would, perhaps, forever defeat
my hopes. There is no doubt at all, but that they have heard of my
mad career in New York; and they will look upon me as a disgraced
person. What appeared to me plausible at a distance, now seems formidable
enough,—indeed, impossible. I have lost all courage.'

`I know what that is. I know just how you feel. I felt so before
Josephine the other night, when I went to confess to her; bless her
bright eyes, she is getting to love me very fast. I will tell you now
how this thing shall be managed, for I have just been talking with the
Marquis, and have learned from him that his brother's estate lays only
eight miles above this. But as the trustee is in New Orleans, he
wished first to go to the city and see him. Now I will lay your case,
just as it is, before Josephine, and get her to lay it before her father,
and propose that he be landed here, and throw himself upon the hospitality
of M. Livaudais for to-night, and for horses tomorrow to ride up

to his estate. Mr. Livaudais will be delighted to see him, there is no
doubt, and to go with him to the plantation on the morrow, for these
insulated planters consider a visiter a God-send to relieve the monotony
of their lives.'

`Well, but what benefit will —'

`You have n't heard me out. I shall go ashore with them of course,
and, as I shall want to appear well, I will take with me a servant.
That servant shall be yourself.'

`Me?'

`Yes. A little burnt cork will transform you into a very respectable
African valet.'

`Do you mean that I shall disguise myself as a servant, and go to
the villa with you?' asked Hastings with surprise.

`Yes. In that capacity you can see her and —'

`No, no! I wont degrade myself any farther in her eyes than I am!
I can't enter into any such deception, my dear Captain; I am willing
you and the Marquis, and his daughter should go. You can see with
your own eyes how things are, and report to me.'

`Well, I will do it; only I think you had better go as my valet.
You will then be on the spot to act as circumstances may turn up.'

`I will first let you go and spy out the land.'

`Well, I will do so, and report accordingly. I will come to anchor
opposite that arched gate-way that leads into the villa grounds. But
who are those riding out?' he asked, as they reached the quarter-deck
again.

Hastings stopped, and raised the glass quickly to his eye.

`It is Auguste and her father!' he exclaimed joyfully.

`She rides bravely! What an elegant creature she is!'

`Who is that so elegant, Monsieur Capitan?' asked Josephine smiling
archly.

`You first, ma chere Josephine; and second, the lady on horseback
cantering along the river road.'

`She does ride beautifully! Monsieur the lieutenant seems to recognize
her, by his emotion!'

`Yes. It is Auguste Livaudais, the maiden of whom he has so
cloquently discoursed in your hearing.'

`Ah! then I shall regard her with more particular interest,' she answered,
smiling.

`And so shall I; for if she had not already had possession of my
lieutenant's heart you would have had it, and I should not have been
as I am, the happiest man on earth.' Here the Captain raised her
hand to his lips.

Hastings watched the riders with his glass, as they galloped along
the pleasant banks of the river in the direction in which the brig was
advancing. Soon they came opposite the vessel, and not being more
than three hundred yards distance, could be seen plainly with the
naked eye. Hastings with his glass, could have the happiness of bringing
almost within touch, the beautiful features of Miss Livaudais. She
was gazing upon the brig, all unconscious of such close scrutiny, and
as little suspecting who was so closely observing her.

`She is a very splendid creature, Harry,' said the Captain, with
admiration. `Your taste I admire with all my heart. It would be a
pity if you should fail to secure such a prize. But you shall not lose
her. You have helped me to mine, and I will help you to yours. I
mean to come to an anchor here while they are looking on, and then
pull ashore and introduce myself. Nothing like coming to the point
at once.'

The orders were now given to let go the anchor, and take in sail.
They were obeyed with alacrity; and in ten minutes, the beautiful brig
which had so recently presented two moving pyramids of canvass to
the eyes of Mr. Livaudais and his daughter, stood stationary in all the
naked symmetry of her tapering spars, and delicate tracery of rigging.
While they were looking on and admiring the exquisite outline of ropes
and yards, and far raking masts, they beheld a light four-oared cutter
leave her starboard gangway, and pull towards them.

`I am glad to see them drop anchor, and more pleased still to see
them coming on shore,' said Mr. Livaudais, looking gratified. `Officers
of a man of war are always rare fellows and capital company. If I
can, I will keep them over to-morrow, and give them a dinner-party
and a fox hunt.'

`Do you know what nation the brig belongs to, father?' asked Miss
Livaudais, `restraining with the bit her spirited horse, which was pricking
up his ears at the approaching boat.'

`No; but I think either French or Mexican. Those are the only
ones likely to be about the Gulf just now. She is not Yankee, for
the uniform of the officers in the boat is too brilliant for an American's.'

`There are two officers. The elderly one has opened his cloak and
shows a plain uniform.'

`He is a military-looking man. But there is a lady on his right.'

`Yes, and young and beautiful!' cried Miss Livaudais. `Now I
shall have company, as well as you, father.'

`You ought to like young officer's company I should think, quite as
well as that of your own sex. Most young ladies would. But since
you saw that young Hastings, at the Springs, you never have looked
civilly on any one else. But now that you know that he has proved
unworthy of you, whatever you might have thought of him once, I hope
you have been a good sensible girl and forgotten him.'

`I have, sir,' answered Auguste Livaudais, dropping her eyes to the
ground, and looking very much distressed and embarrassed. Her
reply was in firm tones, but a slight cadence of feeling tremulously
vibrated in them, as if she had not forgotten, though believing so.

`That is right! Think no more about him. He is lost to your
hopes forever. So be yourself again, and try and entertain these
gentlemen, and also all others, grave and gay, who may hereafter be
my guests. By and by, I hope you will make one worthy of you
captive. The maiden in the boat is very beautiful, now that I see her
nearer. They are close at hand. I will alight and receive them, for
they evidently are come to visit me.'