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Updated: June 20, 2025
In the meanwhile Palmyre should remain with Mademoiselle, who had promptly but quietly made up her mind that Palmyre should not be wed unless she wished to be. Bras-Coupé made no objection, was royally worthless for a time, but learned fast, mastered the "gumbo" dialect in a few weeks, and in six months was the most valuable man ever bought for gourde dollars.
Palmyre was then besought to intercede. She made one poor attempt, but her husband was nearer doing her an unkindness than ever he had been before; he made a slow sign for silence with his fist; and every mouth was stopped.
"Yes," murmured the apothecary. He shook his head as if to protest to himself, and read in a low but audible voice: "Star of my soul, I approach to die. It is not for me possible to live without Palmyre. Long time have I so done, but now, cut off from to see thee, by imprisonment, as it may be called, love is starving to death.
It was the woman who had received the gold from Frowenfeld Palmyre Philosophe. The moment her eyes fell upon Aurora her whole appearance changed. A girlish smile lighted up her face, and as Aurora rose up reflecting it back, they simultaneously clapped hands, laughed and advanced joyously toward each other, talking rapidly without regard to each other's words.
"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."
You may take Palmyre." The overseer softly smote his hands together at the happy thought. "Yes," said Agricola, "take Palmyre; she has picked up as many negro dialects as I know European languages." And she went to the don's plantation as interpreter, followed by Agricola's prayer to Fate that she might in some way be overtaken by disaster. The two hated each other with all the strength they had.
So Joseph and his friends this evening, like Aurora and Clotilde in the morning, were, as we nowadays say of buyers and sellers, "apart," when suddenly and unannounced, Palmyre presented herself among them. When the f.m.c. saw her, she had already handed Joseph his hat and with much sober grace was apologizing for her slave's mistake. All evidence of her being wounded was concealed.
One must inevitably feel a little silly, setting up tenpins for ladies who are too polite, even if able, to bowl them down. Aurora and the visitor began to speak simultaneously; both apologized, and Aurora said: "'Sieur Frowenfel', w'en I was a lill girl," and Frowenfeld knew that he was going to hear the story of Palmyre. Clotilde moved, with the obvious intention to mend the fire.
The journey was made in safety; and, by and by, Palmyre was presented to her new mistress. The occasion was notable. In a great chair in the centre sat the grandpère, a Chevalier de Grandissime, whose business had narrowed down to sitting on the front veranda and wearing his decorations, the cross of St.
Joseph, or, as we would say now, in Congo Square, from three pistols Agricola's, 'Polyte's, and the weapon of an ill-defined, retreating figure answering the description of the person who had stabbed Agricola the preceding February. "And yet," said 'Polyte, "I would have sworn that it was Palmyre doing this work." Through Raoul these events came to the ear of Frowenfield.
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