Part 24 (1/2)
Mary and Waubeno waited outside of the door. The Indian woman listened for a time to the gay music, and watched the bright uniforms as they pa.s.sed to and fro under the glittering astrals. At last an American officer came down the steps, lifted his hat, and said to the two Indians and to Jasper:
”Follow me.”
Lafayette had already received the public men of the place. Airy music arose, and the officials and their wives and guests were going through the form of the old court minuet.
The music of Mozart's Don Giovanni minuet has been heard in a thousand halls of state and at the festivals of many lands. We may imagine the charm that such music had here, in this oaken room of the forest and prairie. At the head of the plumed ladies and men in glittering uniforms stood the Marquis of France, whom the world delighted to honor, and led the stately obeisances to the picturesque movement of the music under the flags and astrals. A remnant of the old romantic French families were there, soldiers of the Revolution, the leaders of the new order of American life, Governor Coles and his officers, and rich traders of St.
Louis. As the music swayed these stately forms backward and forward with the fascinating poetry of motion that can hardly be called a dance, the two Indian faces caught the spirit of the scene. Waubeno had never heard the music of the minuet before, and the strains entranced him as they rose and fell.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Minuet from Don Giovanni.
BY MOZART. ARR. BY CARL ERICH.
Published by the permission of Arthur P. Schmidt.
Copyright, 1880, by Carl Prufer.]
After the minuet, Lafayette and Governor Coles received the towns-people, and among the first to be presented to the marquis was Mary Panisciowa.
She bowed modestly, and told him her simple tale. The marquis listened at first with courtly interest, then with profound emotion. She drew from her bosom the letter that he had written to her father, the chief.
His own writing brought before him the scenes of almost a half-century gone, the struggle for liberty in the new land to which he had given his young soul. He remembered the old chief, and the forest scenes of those heroic years; Was.h.i.+ngton, and the generals he had loved, most of whom were gone, arose again. His heart filled with emotion, and he said:
”Nothing in my visit here has affected me so much as this. I thank you for seeking me. I welcome you with all my heart. Let me spend as much time as I may in your company. Your father was a hero, and your presence fills my heart with no common pleasure and delight. Stay with me.”
The marquis welcomed Waubeno cordially, and expressed his pleasure at meeting him here. At the romantic festival no people were more warmly met than the chief's daughter and her escort.
”The French have always been true to the Indians,” said Waubeno, on leaving the general, ”and the Indians have been as true to the French.”
”Never did rulers have better subjects,” said the general.
”Never did subjects have better rulers,” said Waubeno, almost repeating the scene of d.i.c.k Whittington, thrice Lord Mayor of London, by virtue of his wonderful cat, to King Henry.
The Indians withdrew amid the gay strains of national music, the stately minuet haunting Waubeno and ringing in his ears.
He tried to hum the rhythms of the beautiful air of the courts. Jasper saw how the music had affected him, and that he was happy and susceptible, and said:
”Waubeno, you have met a man to-night who would forget his own position and pleasure to do honor to the Indian girl.”
”Yes, I am sure of that.”
”You are your best self to-night--in your best mood; the music has awakened your better soul. You remember your promise?”
”Yes, but, Brother Jasper--”
”What, Waubeno?”
”Lafayette is a _Frenchman_, and--a gentleman. The Indians and French do not spill each other's blood. Why?”
CHAPTER XIV.
WAUBENO AND YOUNG LINCOLN.