The Law of the Land by Emerson Hough (the reader ebook .TXT) 📕

“Goes masked, eh? Young, beautiful, eh? Well, I should say that’s not bad advertising, at least.”

“Monsieur,” said Jules, earnestly, “do not say it at the club. It would provoke discussion, and the young gentlemen might have anger. Mademoiselle Louise is worship’ in this town. At first, non! It was thought as you say. But soon this feeling of the young men it has shange’. It has go into devotion. Now it is religion!”

“Well, that is a pretty state of affairs, isn’t it?”

“But I say to you that this Louise Loisson, she dance not like the othair femmes du ballet—absolument non.” Jules became excited, spreading out his hands and letting fall his napkin.

“It is different, the quality of the dance of mademoiselle,” said he. “It is quelque chose, I do not know what. It is not to describe. It make you think, thass all. As I say, she has come to be a religion.”

“But where does this divine creature live, Jules? Who is she? Come, now? you ought to tell me that much,”

Jules went on polishing a glass. “Ah, Monsieur, why you h’ask?” said he. “I may say so much, like this; she live with a lady in the French town—very fine, very quiet, very secret. It is the house of old family which was bought by Madame Delchasse. Madame, you have know, perhaps? She was long time the bes’ cook in New Orleans. She make plenty money. When Mademoiselle Louise she first come here, she is very poor, she have no friend. Somehow she is found by this Madame Delchasse. Monsieur and Madame Delchasse, they have once together the res’traw. Monsieur is very fond of the escargot a la Bourgogne, and one day he eat too many escargot. Madame, she run the res’traw, sell great many meal to the dam-yankees; sell the cook-_book_ to the dam-yankees aussi. Thus she get rich—very rich, and buy the house on l’Esplanade. But madame is lonely. She is not receive’ by the old French familles. Monsieur Delchasse is dead, her shildren are dead— she is alone. She take Louise Loisson home to live. My faith! she is watch her like the cat.”

“But how about this dancing? Why does she need to dance?” queried Eddring.

“Ah, she has dance two, t’ree time in the house of Madame Delchasse. ‘It is zhenius,’ exclaim Madame Pelchasse at this dance; and always, and always, tou-jours, she tell of the zhenius of this jeune fille who has come live with her. Thass all. The proprietaire of the Odeon, he fin’ it hout. He insist, this jeune fille shall dance. She riffuse. He insist, he offer much money. At las’, she say she dance if she have always the masque. ‘Bon!’ he cry, and so it is determine’. She dance always in the domino. It is most romantique, most a’mirab’. So this is now the religion of all the young men, mais, oui, this jeune fille, Mademoiselle Louise Loisson!”

“And how does Madame Delchasse regard this public dancing by her jeune fille?”

“Monsieur, she worship’ Mademoiselle Louise. But she say, ‘This is art, and of art the world it is not to be deprive!’ It is well for both madame and for Mademoiselle Louise. The luxury of those room in those old house, they far surpass the best of what one find in the new hotel. Mademoiselle have the best cook in New Orleans. She come in her carriage, she go the same. She drive up to the gate on l’Esplanade, and the gate is close! Behold all! You know so much as any gentleman of Nouvelle Orleans—you have the tenderloin of trout?”

After breakfast Eddring strolled over to the box office of the Odeon; but though he made diligent inquiry of the young man who met him at the window, the latter could give him no satisfaction beyond the mention of the address on the Esplanade where dwelt Madame Delchasse. He was very lukewarm in regard to further inquiries from the stranger.

The flavor of this little adventure began now to appeal to Eddring, and thus left to his own resources, he determined to assume a bold front and call in person at the old house on the Esplanade. It being still early, he wandered for a time about the strange old city; but the crooked streets and their quaint shops had lost their charm. The ancient Place d’Armes, the old Cabildo, the French market, the tumble-down buildings which house the courts of justice ceased to interest him. He was relieved when finally he felt it proper to turn up the old Esplanade, which wandered away with its rows of whitened trees, out among the dignified and reticent residences of the vieux carre.

The flavor of another day came to him. This, indeed, was the same Nouvelle Orleans, he reflected, from which in an earlier day the first Louise Loisson had set sail for France! He, by virtue of this old volume now resting in his pocket, was concerned with the fortunes of that earlier Louise Loisson. And yet, he acknowledged the growing feeling that in this matter there was coming to be for him something more than a professional interest. This thought he put away as best he could, chiding himself as perpetually visionary, though old enough now to dream no more.

In time he arrived at the street number to which he had been directed, and paused at the iron street gate which shielded even the carriage drive from the public. Through the bars of the gate he could see a well-kept, formal lawn and the peaked roof of the close-shuttered, green-balconied dwelling beyond. There could not have been a better abode, he reflected, for this mysterious personage who had called him hither on this fantastic, will-o’-the-wisp journey. Yet he pulled himself up with disgust. He dared not hope! He reproved himself sharply. No doubt he was to see presently a gushing or garrulous or ignorant young woman, whose pretended modesty was but an artifice, whose real soul was set upon the adulation of the public and the pecuniary gain received thereby. He was almost of a mind to turn away, and end his quest then and there.

He was not prepared for what was soon to happen. There came a hum of wheels along the old roadway, and a carriage pulled up at the walk. There alighted quickly the figure of a young girl, tall, slender, round, full-chested, abounding in health and vigor. So much could be seen at a glance. As to the face of the newcomer, the eyes were shielded by a dark blue domino, or short mask. Eddring saw beneath, this concealment a strong, round, tender chin; above, a pile of red-brown hair. He caught the flash of a sweeping bunch of scarlet ribbons, heard a quick rustling of skirts, saw an inscrutable face turned toward him; and then, before he had time to think or speak, a servant had swept open the great iron gate and the young woman had stepped within. She did not look back, but passed on rapidly up the gravel walk toward the house. And John Eddring, foolish, stunned, abashed, knew that he had seen the mysterious Louise Loisson! Ah, he had seen more—he had seen another!

He turned as he heard a footstep and a soft voice at his elbow. The passerby accosted him smiling, and he recognized Jules, the duck-footed.

“Ah, Monsieur,” said the latter, “I see you have also discover’ the shrine. Is it not beautiful, Monsieur—this worship of a pure jeune fille?”

The words brought Eddring back to his own proper senses. Forgetting all else, he sprang through the big gate, past the servant, and hastened up the walk. “Miss Lady! Miss Lady!” he cried.