``They desire all, the nobles,'' he cried, ``I make the land good, and they seize it.I marry a pretty wife, and Monsieur le Comte he want her.L'bon Dieu,'' he added bitterly, relapsing into French.``France is for the King and the nobility, Monsieur.The poor have but little chance there.In the country I have seen the peasants eat roots, and in the city the poor devour the refuse from the houses of the rich.It was we who paid for their luxuries, and with mine own eyes I have seen their gilded coaches ride down weak men and women in the streets.But it cannot last.They will murder Louis and burn the great chateaux.I, who speak to you, am of the people, Monsieur, I know it.''
The sun had long set, and with flint and tow they were touching the flame to the candles, which flickered transparent yellow in the deepening twilight.So absorbed had I become in listening to Lenoir's description that I had forgotten Nick.Now I searched for him among the promenading figures, and missed him.In vain did I seek for a glimpse of Suzanne's red ribbons, and I grew less and less attentive to the miller's reminiscences and arraignments of the nobility.Had Nick indeed run away with his daughter?
The dancing went on with unabated zeal, and through the open door in the fainting azure of the sky the summer moon hung above the hills like a great yellow orange.
Striving to hide my uneasiness, I made my farewells to Madame Chouteau's sons and daughters and their friends, and with Colonel Chouteau I left the hall and began to walk towards Monsieur Gratiot's, hoping against hope that Nick had gone there to change.But we had scarce reached the road before we could see two figures in the distance, hazily outlined in the mid-light of the departed sun and the coming moon.The first was Monsieur Gratiot himself, the second Benjy.Monsieur Gratiot took me by the hand.
``I regret to inform you, Mr.Ritchie,'' said he, politely, ``that my keel boats are loaded and ready to leave.Were you on any other errand I should implore you to stay with us.''
``Is Temple at your house?'' I asked faintly.
``Why, no,'' said Monsieur Gratiot; ``I thought he was with you at the ball.''
``Where is your master?'' I demanded sternly of Benjy.
``I ain't seed him, Marse Dave, sence I put him inter dem fine clothes 'at he w'ars a-cou'tin'.''
``He has gone off with the girl,'' put in Colonel Chouteau, laughing.
``But where?'' I said, with growing anger at this lack of consideration on Nick's part.
``I'll warrant that Gaspard or Hippolyte Beaujais will know, if they can be found,'' said the Colonel.``Neither of them willingly lets the girl out of his sight.''
As we hurried back towards the throbbing sounds of Zeron's fiddle I apologized as best I might to Monsieur Gratiot, declaring that if Nick were not found within the half-hour I would leave without him.My host protested that an hour or so would make no difference.We were about to pass through the group of loungers that loitered by the gate when the sound of rapid footsteps arrested us, and we turned to confront two panting and perspiring young men who halted beside us.One was Hippolyte Beaujais, more fantastic than ever as he faced the moon, and the other was Gaspard.They had plainly made a common cause, but it was Hippolyte who spoke.
``Monsieur,'' he cried, ``you seek your friend? Ha, we have found him,--we will lead you to him.''
``Where is he?'' said Colonel Chouteau, repressing another laugh.
``On the pond, Monsieur,--in a boat, Monsieur, with Suzanne, Monsieur le Colonel! And, moreover, he will come ashore for no one.''
``Parbleu,'' said the Colonel, ``I should think not for any arguments that you two could muster.But we will go there.''
``How far is it?'' I asked, thinking of Monsieur Gratiot.
``About a mile,'' said Colonel Chouteau, ``a pleasant walk.''
We stepped out, Hippolyte and Gaspard running in front, the Colonel and Monsieur Gratiot and myself following; and a snicker which burst out now and then told us that Benjy was in the rear.On any other errand I should have thought the way beautiful, for the country road, rutted by wooden wheels, wound in and out through pleasant vales and over gentle rises, whence we caught glimpses from time to time of the Mississippi gleaming like molten gold to the eastward.Here and there, nestling against the gentle slopes of the hillside clearing, was a low-thatched farmhouse among its orchards.As we walked, Nick's escapade, instead of angering Monsieur Gratiot, seemed to present itself to him in a more and more ridiculous aspect, and twice he nudged me to call my attention to the two vengefully triumphant figures silhouetted against the moon ahead of us.From time to time also I saw Colonel Chouteau shaking with laughter.As for me, it was impossible to be angry at Nick for any space.Nobody else would have carried off a girl in the face of her rivals for a moonlight row on a pond a mile away.
At length we began to go down into the valley where Chouteau's pond was, and we caught glimpses of the shimmering of its waters through the trees, ay, and presently heard them tumbling lightly over the mill-dam.
The spot was made for romance,--a sequestered vale, clad with forest trees, cleared a little by the water-side, where Monsieur Lenoir raised his maize and his vegetables.Below the mill, so Monsieur Gratiot told me, where the creek lay in pools on its limestone bed, the village washing was done; and every Monday morning bare-legged negresses strode up this road, the bundles of clothes balanced on their heads, the paddles in their hands, followed by a stream of black urchins who tempted Providence to drown them.
Down in the valley we came to a path that branched from the road and led under the oaks and hickories towards the pond, and we had not taken twenty paces in it before the notes of a guitar and the sound of a voice reached our ears.And then, when the six of us stood huddled in the rank growth at the water's edge, we saw a boat floating idly in the forest shadow on the far side.
I put my hand to my mouth.
