Democratic Sentinel, Volume 19, Number 40, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 October 1895 — A GOLDEN DREAM [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A GOLDEN DREAM

GEO M FENN.

CHAPTER V.—(Continued.) He turned and strode out of the doorway, smoking carelessly, leaped over the low fence, and went slowly back along the track. “She kncfws,” he thought, “and will call me back directly. Bit put out. Well, I have neglected her, but ——” He laughed to himself, and went on, longing to look back, but no voice recalled him. Had he turned his head he would have seen nothing, for Genie had drawn back further into the back of the room, and watched him from there. “Why does he want that?” she said, thoughtfully, and she shook her head, as she watched till Saintone was out of sight, nothing being farther from her thoughts than the intention of calling him back. Meanwhile Saintone walked slowly on, with an angry feeling growing in his breast. “She is one of them. She as good as owned to it one day. Then she has a reason for refusing and for being so cold. Well, perhaps I can manage without her after all; but what does she mean?” He went thoughtfully back to the town, making the discovery suddenly that he was hot and thirsty, and on the strength of this he turned off and went straight to his friend’s house in search of the refreshment he needed. Deffrard was lying asleep in the shaded room when Saintone entered, and started up on being rudely shaken. “Rum and some water,” said Saintone, throwing himself into a chair, and as soon as he had partaken of a hearty drink from the glass brought in by a grinning negress, he lit a fresh green cigar. “Well,” said Deffrard, drowsily; “found out all vou wanted 7” “No.” “Wouldn’t she take you?” “Turned sulky because I hadn’t been to see her. Pretended she knew nothing. I’m sure she goes to their meetings, nnd I’ll find out somehow if it’s only to meet her. Now, what shall I do? They keep it all so quiet among them that it’s harder than I thought.” “Pay one of the nigger priests, he’ll let you into it.” “I don’t know,” said Saintone, thoughtfully; “besides how am I to find out one? Their meetings are forbidden by the law, and as soon as I begin to miike inquiries they’ll grow suspicious.” “I know. Try fat Mahme out yonder at the store.” “What does she know ?” “More than you think. She’s mixed up with them. Finds them in rum for their feasts. I believe that, quiet as she is, she is one of them—sort of priestess. At any rate, she’s a regular confidante of all the blacks about here. They go to her and meet at her place, and hatch half their schemes there. I believe nearly all the bits of deviltry started under her roof.” “No harm in trying her,” said Saintone thoughtfully. “She must know at all events where they meet. Yes, I think you are right, but she wouldn't speak. Too much mixed up with them.” “Open her mouth with the golden key.” “Right, I will. Come along.” “I?” said Deffrard, shrinking. “Yes; come on at once. She shall take us to one of their feasts, and we’ll see 4 what it’s like. I’m told that it’s worth” the trouble.” “But ” began Deffrard. “Come on,” cried Saintone; and tossing off the remainder of his refreshing draught, he literally dragged his host into the road, down which they walked, away into a suburb of cottages which had sprung up, and was continued to where Dulau’s home had once stood, the pretty erection being superseded now by a plain, business-looking building, about which, and under the shade of the trees, quite a little crowd of blacks were lolling and idling about, some smoking, some drinking, and all the rest doing nothing after the fashion of a free negro with all his might.

To a close observer the result of their appearance was amusing. The negroes, who had been laughing and chattering together like so many children, became silent, their faces grew stolid and sleepy, and all appeared to be utterly ignorant of the approach of the two creoles. Saintone knew their ways too well to notice this more than to feel convinced that Deffrard was right, and that this assumed ignorance was the childish cloak for something they wished to hide. He walked right on up toward the open door, from which a showy-looking negress of two or three-and-thirty came to meet them, and pointed to seats in the broad verandah, by a long, rough table. “No,” said Saintone, carelessly. “Too hot out here. We’ll come inside.” He walked into a low, long room, half general shop, half cabaret, where a broad, counter stretched across one end in clumsy imitation of the French fashion. Behind it, seated on a raised cushioned chair, was a stout, good-looking middle-aged woman, fair enough for a quadroon. She was showily dressed, and wore, half hidden in the thick folds of her neck, a great necklace; several rings were embedded in her fat fingers, and rather tastily twisted turban fashion about her slightly gray locks was a gorgeous red and yellow silk kerchief. As the two young men entered, she felt herself bound to rise from-her seat to welcome guests of a better class than those to which she was accustomed, smiling and. bowing as they both raised their straw hats; but she sat down again directly, an example followed by the visitors at a table close to the end of the buffet, a glance around showing them that place was quite empty, save that a big broad-shouldered negro sat in one corner with his arms upon the table and his head down, apparently asleep. In fact his hue harmonized so well with the gloom of the place, (with its two small windows, shaded by blinds that Deffrard did not realize his presence. “Hot day for walking, madame,” said Saintone. “Give us two cool drinks.” “Yes; too hot for gentlemen to walk,” was the reply, as the two plump hands busied themselves with a bottle, glasses and a great pitcher of cold water. “Here! where is that girl?” “No, no, don’t call her,” said Saintone, rising. “I’ll take them. Madame is quite well?” As he spoke he leaned toward her, pointing quickly at the negro in the corner. and signed toward the door. The hostess grasped his meaning quickly enough, as she replied with politeness that she was never better than .she was now. when a real gentleman con-

descended to honor her house with a visit to rest and refresh himself. Then she looked shurply toward the corner and said a few words sharply in one of the West African dialects. The result was that the negro grew suddenly wide awake, there was a gleam of white teeth, the flash of a pair of opal eyeballs, and then a big, slouching broadshouldered figure was seen framed in the doorway, and they were alone. “Monsieur Saintone has had something stolen and he wants Mahme to try and get it back?” said the woman. ui“Hah! delicious!” said Saintone, setting down his glass half empty, Deffrard, uttering a sigh of satisfaction over his, as he sat holding it in his hand. “The water is just cold and fresh from the spring,” said the woman, offering cigars. Then, as they w T ere taken, and she struck a light to offer it in turn, she continued, “Monsieur may speak now. There is no one to hear. Is it money or a watch?” “Neither, Mahme,” said Saintone. lowering his voice. “Look here; my friend and I want to attend one of the Yaudoux meetings—a feast or whatever it is.” “Vaudoux? Ah, yes,” said the woman, in the most unmoved'way. “Vaudoux? Yes, I have heard of them. In the middle of the island, are they not?” “You know best about that.” “I?” said the woman, raising her beringed hands; and her ways and manners were strikingly French. “I sit here always, only leave my chair to go to my rest.”

“But-the people come to see you.” “Yes, as you have,” she said, smiling and showing her regular teeth. “And you will take us to one?” “I?" she cried, with a little laugh, but always speaking in a whisper. “What do I know of such things?” “Come,” said Saintone, lnying his hand upon her plump fingers; “we are fencing. You know all we want to know.” “Oh, no, no, no, no,” she said quickly; “nothing, nothing.” “That will do,” said Saintone, mockingly. “I don’t mean you to do it for nothing. I want to attend one of the meetings first, and then I mean to join them.” “You! You mean it?” she whispered eagerly. “Yes, and my friend here, too. Ah, you see you do know.” “Why? Why does Monsieur Deffrard, too, want to know of such things?” she said eagerly, and with a very intense look from one to the other. “For the same reason that hundreds of others do,” replied Saintone quietly. “Come, what shall I pay you to see us through it all.” “No, no. It is impossible. There are no such things.” “Yes, there are. Come, no nonsense.” “And if there are they must be dangerous. Fine gentlemen cannot join with these people. It is some spying trick. Who sent you here?” “It is no spying tric-k, Mahme. I tell you I mean to join them for the change and excitement of the thing. Come, now, what will it cost?” “Perhaps your life—and his,” said the woman in a low whisper, that was startling in its intensity. Deffrard started, and looked aghast, but Saintone laughed. “Nonsense!” he said. “I am not afraid. Come, .don’t let us waste time. Tell me what it will cost to see the whole business of one of their meetings. You see you know all about it.” “Perhaps,” said the hostess; and her looks and ways were so intense that Saintone forgot her half ludicrous form and dress, as he felt that this was no common woman with whom he had to deal. “But no, .it is impossible. You laugh, but the risks are terrible. I tell you that if they thought strangers were among them those strangers would never come away alive.”

“Give it up,” whispered Deffrard. “She is right. I’ve heard that before.” “The very reason why I shall go,” said Saintone, coolly, “only they had better not begin. But there will be nothing of that. I tell you I mean to join them—to be one of them.” “What for?” said the woman, with her eyes lighting up and gazing into his searehingly. “Because I feel that the black party are being oppressed and trampled down, both by the whites and the colored people; because I consider we ought here to be all equal under one good government.” “And because Monsieur Etienne Saintone wants to be that government, and to be a great leader, as his father did before him,” said the woman, in a quick, sharp whisper. Saintone stared at her, so sudden had been the change. “Nonsense!” he said; “but what do you know about my father?” “That he was shot —perhaps in trying to do what his son wishes.” “Look here,” began Saintone, angrily. “There are people outside, and they have big ears,” said the woman, quietly. “Yes, I know. Well, then, I’ll be frank with you.” “Better so.” “I do want to try and take some position among my people.” “And stand up on the shoulders of the blacks? Well, they are very hard.” “You take an unfair view of the matter, Mahme. My father was a brave man, and one of the great patriots of the country.” The woman half closed her eyes, and nodded her head slowly. “And I, his son, wish to tread in his steps.” “Ah?” said the woman, wrinkling her brow, and gazing at him strangely. “I shall join the Vaudoux, and study the position and wants of the black race —fight for them, in fact.” “And go to their feasts and drink yourself drunk, and join in all their strange revels?” “Mahme, I am a gentleman, the son of a gentleman,” said the young man proudly. “I know myself. Now, then, you stand high among the people—the black race.” A vivid color came into the woman’s face, and her eyes flashed, but she made no sign, and Saintone did not note the change in the obscurity of the long, low, shadowy room as he went on. “(Now, then, will you take me to the first of these feasts and let me see all?” “No.” Saintone laughed to: himself, and thrusting his hand into his pocket, he took out a gold piece and placed it in his palm, holding it out over the buffet counter. “There,” he said, “I told you I did not want you to do it for nothing. Take us

both, and I will give you that.” 'f The woman shook her head and drew hack. Saintone laughed again. “Be quiet. I won’t,” he said, in reply to a whispered prayer from his companion to give up. Then, taking out a second piece he placed it on the first. “Now will you?” he whispered. The woman's eyes glistened with a singular look of greed, but she shook her head. Saintone placed a third piece on the others without avail. Then a fourth — a fifth—and on and on till nine glistening coins were lying in a little pile; and the woman shrank from them, and tried to avert her eyes, which kept on returning as if by the strong attraction of the bright metal. “Give it up,” whispered Deffrard again, but, with his teeth hard set, and a look of stubborn determination increasing in his countenance, Saintone took out another coin and added it to the little pile still held out upon the bar. "There,” he whispered, “ten. More than you will make here in this wretched place in weeks, now will you take us?” A sudden spasm seemed to convulse the woman’s face, aud in spite of her heaviness. her action was quick as lightning. The coins had hardly rested there till he had spoken, when Mahme's hand darted down upon his and closed upon the coins pinning his upon the counter as she said hoarsely: “I take no risk of what happens. If they kill you, your blood be upon your own head. I have warned you.” "You will take us both to the first feast or meeting these people have?” said Saintone, coolly, “contrive that we see "everything.” “Everything?” she whispered, with a look of awe in her eyes. “Everything, even to the sacrifice,” he said, with a mocking look at her. She nodded. “And if I want your aid to hurry on my initiation you will hoip me in that?” She nodded again. “That’s right.” he said, withdrawing his hand. “When shall we come?” "To-night,” she whispered; “two hours after it is dark.” “So soon? Am I to swear secrecy?” said Saintone. with a mocking laugh. “There will be no need,” replied the woman meaningly. “You will not tell tales after, for you will be one of them, and it would be betraying yourself.” “But if 1 do?” “Those who fight against the serpent die. Now go.” “Yes, we will go now,” said Saintone, draining his glass and relighting the cigar which hud gone out. “Come, Jules, old fellow, we are refreshed and ready to continue our walk,” he said aloud. “Adieu, madame —Mahme, I mean.” He raised his hat, Deffrard followed his example, and followed him out into the sunshine, and past the smiling negress and one group of blacks, who once more went through their scene of assumed ignorance of their presence. (To be continued.)