Part 7 (2/2)
”Dat's all right, Miss 'Chanda. Yo'all's not gittin' a know-nothin'.
Letty-Lou, she knows her work. She kin cook right good.”
”We can't take her,” Val backed up Ricky. ”You must understand, Lucy, that we don't have much money and we can't pay for--”
”Pay fo'!” Lucy's indignant sniff reduced him to his extremely unimportant place. ”We's not talkin' 'bout pay workin', Mistuh Ralestone. Letty-Lou don' git no pay but her eatments. 'Co'se, effen Miss 'Chanda wanna give her some ole clo's now an' den, she kin tak'
dem. Letty-Lou, she don' hav' to git her a pay-work job, her pappy mak's him a good livin'. But Miss 'Chanda ain' a-goin' to tak' keer dis big hous' all by herself wit' her lil' han's dere. We's Ralestone folks.
Letty-Lou, yo' gits on youah ap'on an' gits to work.”
”But we can't let her,” Ricky raised her last protest.
”Miss 'Chanda, we's Ralestone folks. Mah gran' pappy Bob was own man to Ma.s.sa Miles Ralestone. He fit in de wah longside o' Ma.s.sa Miles. An' wen de wah was done finish'd, dem two com' home to-gethah. Den Ma.s.sa Miles, he call mah gran'pappy in an' say, 'Bob, yo'all is free an' I'se a ruinated man. Heah is fiv' dollahs gol' money an' yo' kin hav' youah hoss.' An' Bob, he say, 'Cap'n Miles, dese heah Yankees done said I'se free but dey ain't done said dat I ain't a Ralestone man. W'at time does yo'all wan' breakfas' in de mornin'?' An' wen Ma.s.sa Miles wen' no'th to mak' his fo'tune, he told Bob, 'Bob, I'se leavin' dis heah hous' in youah keer.' An', Miss 'Chanda, we done look aftah Pirate's Haven evah since, mah gran'pappy, mah pappy, Sam an' me.”
Ricky held out her hand. ”I'm sorry, Lucy. You see, we don't understand very well, we've been away so long.”
Lucy touched Ricky's hand and then, for all her weight, bobbed a curtsy.
”Dat's all right, Miss 'Chanda, yo' is ouah folks.”
Letty-Lou stayed.
CHAPTER IV
PISTOLS FOR TWO--COFFEE FOR ONE
Val braced himself against the back of the roadster's seat and struggled to hold the car to a road which was hardly more than a cart track. Twice since Ricky and he had left Pirate's Haven they had narrowly escaped being bogged in the mud which had worked up through the thin crust of gravel on the surface.
To the south lay the old cypress swamps, dark glens of rotting wood and sprawling vines. A spur of this unsavory no-man's land ran close along the road, and looking into it one could almost believe, fancied Val, in the legends told by the early French explorers concerning the giant monsters who were supposed to haunt the swamps and wild lands at the mouth of the Mississippi. He would not have been surprised to see a brontosaurus peeking coyly down at him from twenty feet or so of neck.
It was just the sort of place any self-respecting brontosaurus would have wallowed in.
But at last they won free from that place of cold and dank odors.
Pa.s.sing through Chalmette, they struck the main highway. From then on it was simple enough. St. Bernard Highway led into St. Claude Avenue and that melted into North Rampart street, one of the boundaries of the old French city.
”Can't we go slower?” complained Ricky. ”I'd like to see some of the city without getting a crick in my neck from looking over my shoulder.
Watch out for St. Anne Street. That's one corner of Beauregarde Square, the old Congo Square--”
”Where the slaves used to dance on Sundays before the war. I know; I've read just as many guide-books as you have. But there is such a thing as obstructing traffic. Also we have about a million and one things to do this afternoon. We can explore later. Here we are; Bienville Avenue. No, I will _not_ stop so that you can see that antique store. Six blocks to the right,” Val reminded himself.
”Val, that was the Absinthe House we just pa.s.sed!”
”Yes? Well, it would have been better for a certain ancestor of ours if he had pa.s.sed it, too. That was Jean Lafitte's headquarters at one time.
Exchange Street--the next is ours.”
They turned into Chartres Street and pulled up in the next block at the corner of Iberville. A four-story house coated with grayish plaster, its windows framed with faded green shutters and its door painted the same misty color, confronted them. There was a tiny shop on the first floor.
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