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Updated: July 16, 2025
When I had finished my narrative, Gayarre drew the doctor aside; and the two conversed for some moments in a low tone. I could hear part of what passed between them. The doctor seemed not to care whether I overheard him, while the other appeared equally anxious that their conversation should not reach me.
And my thoughts go back to the day, less than two years ago, when for the first time this was clearly brought home to me by a performance like this and yet so unlike in a very different place, the simple, bare, almost sordid Teatro Gayarre. Most of the turns were of the same ordinary sort that might be seen in many another music-hall of the long Calle Marques del Duero.
Even before the excitement had quieted down, I saw the sheriff, at the instigation of Reigart and others, stride forward to Gayarre, and placing his hand upon the shoulder of the latter, arrest him as his prisoner. "It is false!" cried Gayarre; "a plot a damnable plot! These documents are forgeries! the signatures are false false!" "Not so, Monsieur Gayarre," said the justice, interrupting him.
Among his companions were two brothers, one of whom, Sieur de Bienville, was the real founder of New Orleans, and long served as Governor of Louisiana. Gayarré describes the arrival and experiences of these brothers. Gayarré lived in New Orleans. He began to practise law there in 1880, and afterward served as reporter of the State Supreme Court. He died in 1895.
Furthermore, I learn from my attendant, that Gayarre resides upon his plantation during the summer months; that he is a daily visitor at the "big house" the residence of Mademoiselle Besancon where he makes himself quite at home; acting, says Scipio, "as ef de place 'longed to him, and he war de boss ob de plantation."
It caused me to start as if stung by an adder. It was the voice of Monsieur Dominique Gayarre! I cannot describe the effect produced upon me by this discovery. It was like a shock of paralysis. It nailed me to the spot, and for some moments I felt as rigid as a statue, and almost as senseless. Even had the words uttered by Gayarre been loud enough to reach me, I should scarce have heard them.
"If he dare," rejoined Gayarre in a tone of bravado; "if he dare hint at such a thing to Mademoiselle ay, or even to you, Aurore I shall make the place too hot for him. He shall visit here no more, the naked adventurer! On that I am resolved." "Oh, Monsieur Gayarre! I'm sure that would vex Mademoiselle very much. Remember! he saved her life. She is full of gratitude to him.
I had no longer any doubt as to where she had been taken. I read on the corner, "Rue Bienville." The house where the carriage had stopped was the town residence of Monsieur Dominique Gayarre. I remained for some minutes in the cab, considering what I had best do. Was this to be her future home? or was she only brought here temporarily, to be afterwards taken up to the plantation?
They seemed to sparkle in a sort of habitual smile; but this smile was purely cynical and deceptive. If any one knew themselves guilty of a weakness or a crime they felt certain that Dominique Gayarre knew it, and it was at this he was laughing.
I was too anxious about Antoine to remain silent, and inquired the news. Nothing more had been heard of him. He was certainly lost. I recounted the circumstances under which I had parted with him, and of course described my encounter with the bully, and how I had received the wound. I could not help remarking a strange expression that marked the features of Gayarre as I spoke.
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