Part 13 (1/2)
”What shall we do?”
The lady immediately looked startled and alarmed and again dropped her eyes in silence. The quadroon had to speak again.
”We will burn a candle.”
Aurora trembled.
”No,” she succeeded in saying.
”Yes,” said Palmyre, ”you must get your rent money.” But the charm which she was meditating had no reference to rent money. ”She knows that,”
thought the voudou.
As she rose and called her Congo slave-woman, Aurora made as if to protest further; but utterance failed her. She clenched her hands and prayed to fate for Clotilde to come and lead her away as she had done at the apothecary's. And well she might.
The articles brought in by the servant were simply a little pound-cake and cordial, a tumbler half-filled with the _sirop naturelle_ of the sugar-cane, and a small piece of candle of the kind made from the fragrant green wax of the candleberry myrtle. These were set upon the small table, the bit of candle standing, lighted, in the tumbler of sirup, the cake on a plate, the cordial in a wine-gla.s.s. This feeble child's play was all; except that as Palmyre closed out all daylight from the room and received the offering of silver that ”paid the floor”
and averted _guillons_ (interferences of outside imps), Aurora,--alas!
alas!--went down upon her knees with her gaze fixed upon the candle's flame, and silently called on a.s.sonquer (the imp of good fortune) to cast his snare in her behalf around the mind and heart of--she knew not whom.
By and by her lips, which had moved at first, were still and she only watched the burning wax. When the flame rose clear and long it was a sign that a.s.sonquer was enlisted in the coveted endeavor. When the wick sputtered, the devotee trembled in fear of failure. Its charred end curled down and twisted away from her and her heart sank; but the tall figure of Palmyre for a moment came between, the wick was snuffed, the flame tapered up again, and for a long time burned, a bright, tremulous cone. Again the wick turned down, but this time toward her,--a propitious omen,--and suddenly fell through the expended wax and went out in the sirup.
The daylight, as Palmyre let it once more into the apartment, showed Aurora sadly agitated. In evidence of the innocence of her fluttering heart, guilt, at least for the moment, lay on it, an appalling burden.
”That is all, Palmyre, is it not? I am sure that is all--it must be all.
I cannot stay any longer. I wish I was with Clotilde; I have stayed too long.”
”Yes; all for the present,” replied the quadroon. ”Here, here is some charmed basil; hold it between your lips as you walk--”
”But I am going to my landlord's office!”
”Office? n.o.body is at his office now; it is too late. You would find that your landlord had gone to dinner. I will tell you, though, where you _must_ go. First go home; eat your dinner; and this evening [the Creoles never say afternoon], about a half-hour before sunset, walk down Royale to the lower corner of the Place d'Armes, pa.s.s entirely around the square and return up Royale. Never look behind until you get into your house again.”
Aurora blushed with shame.
”Alone?” she exclaimed, quite unnerved and tremulous.
”You will seem to be alone; but I will follow behind you when you pa.s.s here. Nothing shall hurt you. If you do that, the charm will certainly work; if you do not--”
The quadroon's intentions were good. She was determined to see who it was that could so infatuate her dear little Momselle; and, as on such an evening as the present afternoon promised to merge into all New Orleans promenaded on the Place d'Armes and the levee, her charm was a very practical one.
”And that will bring the money, will it?” asked Aurora.
”It will bring anything you want.”
”Possible?”
”These things that _you_ want, Momselle Aurore, are easy to bring. You have no charms working against you. But, oh, I wish to G.o.d I could work the _curse_ I want to work!” The woman's eyes blazed, her bosom heaved, she lifted her clenched hand above her head and looked upward, crying: ”I would give this right hand off at the wrist to catch Agricola Fusilier where I could work him a curse! But I shall; I shall some day be revenged!” She pitched her voice still higher. ”I cannot die till I have been! There is nothing that could kill me, I want my revenge so bad!” As suddenly as she had broken out, she hushed, unbarred the door, and with a stern farewell smile saw Aurora turn homeward.
”Give me something to eat, _cherie_,” cried the exhausted lady, dropping into Clotilde's chair and trying to die.