Part 43 (1/2)

The questioner showed a faint, unpleasant smile, that stirred something like opposition in the breast of the apothecary.

”Yes,” he answered.

The next question had a tincture even of fierceness:

”You think it right to sink fifty or a hundred people into poverty to lift one or two out?”

”Mr. Grandissime,” said Frowenfeld, slowly, ”you bade me study this community.”

”I adv--yes; what is it you find?”

”I find--it may be the same with other communities, I suppose it is, more or less--that just upon the culmination of the moral issue it turns and asks the question which is behind it, instead of the question which is before it.”

”And what is the question before me?”

”I know it only in the abstract.”

”Well?”

The apothecary looked distressed.

”You should not make me say it,” he objected.

”Nevertheless,” said the Creole, ”I take that liberty.”

”Well, then,” said Frowenfeld, ”the question behind is Expediency and the question in front, Divine Justice. You are asking yourself--”

He checked himself.

”Which I ought to regard,” said M. Grandissime, quickly. ”Expediency, of course, and be like the rest of mankind.” He put on a look of bitter humor. ”It is all easy enough for you, Mr. Frowenfeld, my-de'-seh; you have the easy part--the theorizing.”

He saw the ungenerousness of his speech as soon as it was uttered, yet he did not modify it.

”True, Mr. Grandissime,” said Frowenfeld; and after a pause--”but you have the n.o.ble part--the doing.”

”Ah, my-de'-seh!” exclaimed Honore; ”the n.o.ble part! There is the bitterness of the draught! The opportunity to act is pushed upon me, but the opportunity to act n.o.bly has pa.s.sed by.”

He again drew his chair closer, glanced behind him and spoke low:

”Because for years I have had a kind of custody of all my kinsmen's property interests, Agricola's among them, it is supposed that he has always kept the plantation of Aurore Nancanou (or rather of Clotilde--who, you know, by our laws is the real heir). That is a mistake. Explain it as you please, call it remorse, pride, love--what you like--while I was in France and he was managing my mother's business, unknown to me he gave me that plantation. When I succeeded him I found it and all its revenues kept distinct--as was but proper--from all other accounts, and belonging to me. 'Twas a fine, extensive place, had a good overseer on it and--I kept it. Why? Because I was a coward. I did not want it or its revenues; but, like my father, I would not offend my people. Peace first and justice afterwards--that was the principle on which I quietly made myself the trustee of a plantation and income which you would have given back to their owners, eh?”

Frowenfeld was silent.

”My-de'-seh, recollect that to us the Grandissime name is a treasure.

And what has preserved it so long? Cheris.h.i.+ng the unity of our family; that has done it; that is how my father did it. Just or unjust, good or bad, needful or not, done elsewhere or not, I do not say; but it is a Creole trait. See, even now” (the speaker smiled on one side of his mouth) ”in a certain section of the territory certain men, Creoles” (he whispered, gravely), ”_some Grandissimes among them_, evading the United States revenue laws and even beating and killing some of the officials: well! Do the people at large repudiate those men? My-de'-seh, in no wise, seh! No; if they were _Americains_--but a Louisianian--is a Louisianian; touch him not; when you touch him you touch all Louisiana!

So with us Grandissimes; we are legion, but we are one. Now, my-de'-seh, the thing you ask me to do is to cast overboard that old traditional principle which is the secret of our existence.”

”_I_ ask you?”

”Ah, bah! you know you expect it. Ah! but you do not know the uproar such an action would make. And no 'n.o.ble part' in it, my-de'-seh, either. A few months ago--when we met by those graves--if I had acted then, my action would have been one of pure--even violent--_self_-sacrifice. Do you remember--on the levee, by the Place d'Armes--me asking you to send Agricola to me? I tried then to speak of it. He would not let me. Then, my people felt safe in their land-t.i.tles and public offices; this rest.i.tution would have hurt nothing but pride.