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"No; his back was turned." "Momselle Aurore," said Palmyre, dropping her elbows upon her knees and taking the lady's hand as if the better to secure the truth, "was that the gentleman you met at the ball?" "My faith!" said Aurora, stretching her eyebrows upward. "I did not think to look. Who was it?"
"For rice and potatoes," said Aurora, and for the first time she uttered a genuine laugh, under that condition of mind which Latins usually substitute for fortitude. Palmyre laughed too, very properly. Another silence followed. The lady could not return the quadroon's searching gaze. "Momselle Aurore," suddenly said Palmyre, "you want me to work a spell for something else."
"These things that you want, Momselle Aurore, are easy to bring. You have no charms working against you. But, oh, I wish to God 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 Palmyre Philosophe was not going to give more than she got, even to her old-time Momselle; she merely straightened back into her chair with an amiable face. "Who do you think he is?" persisted Aurora, after a pause, smiling downward and toying with her rings. The quadroon shrugged.
Joseph stopped aghast with the drawer half drawn. "Not persons of intelligence and " "All kinds. It is only some of the foolishness which they take from the slaves. Many of your best people consult the voudou horses." "Horses?" "Priestesses, you might call them," explained the Creole, "like Momselle Marcelline or 'Zabeth Philosophe." "Witches!" whispered Frowenfeld.
I accept your advice. Alphonsina!" "Momselle!" The answer came from the kitchen. "Come go or, rather, vini 'ci courri dans boutique de l'apothecaire. Clotilde," she continued, in better French, holding up the coin to view, "look!" "What?" "The last picayune we have in the world ha, ha, ha!"
The former mistress not only cast her hands into her lap, lifted her eyes supplicatingly and dropped them again, but actually locked her fingers to keep them from trembling. "Momselle Aurore " began Palmyre, solemnly. "Now, I know what you are going to say but it is of no use to say it; do this much for me this one time and then I will let voudou alone as much as you wish forever!"
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?"
For in the nature of things, and notwithstanding the amusing familiarity common between Creole ladies and the menial class, the unprotected little widow should have had a very serious errand to bring her to the voudou's house. "Palmyre," began the lady, in a sad tone. "Momselle Aurore." "I want you to help me."
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