They lived in a cottage at the junction of what must have
been a country lane abutting on the old Esplanade, and
one of the down town streets running from Esplanade Avenue.
Canal Street is no more a dividing line between the Creole
quarter and the American quarter of New Orleans as it
used to be when the inhabitants of each looked askance at
one another, particularly the American part having terra
requisita to the old French & Spanish element who wrapped
in their conventional traditions long remained exclusive
& unique. A bit of old Europe - a corner cut out from
slumber land where the dream charm of the past still
swayed the lives of the people ; even as the summer
breeze its magnolia & sweet olive trees whose perfume
like incense wafted by unseen hands consecreated divine
lining an ideal spot of beauty and romance ; all allas
[alas?] shone of history associations (reminisences)
The cottage fronted directly on the street its box step
on the pavement or banquette & its green batten windows
opening upon it - slightly bayed to (these were) shut
tight during the heat of the day & in the late afternoon
or evening flung wide open to catch the breeze - the
white muslin or [divity?] curtains swaying in & out & the
light from within shining through to the darkness beyond.
Even if a curious passer by would have glanced within
seldom was any one to be seen the family contingent
generally gathering on the steps, or if the circle was
enlarged by company, chairs placed upon the banquette
formed a circle around them a happy chatty group plied
pel mell [fa--?] against that & mosquitoes White ices
or glasses, corn syrup & water were passed around by
the old negroes - Manu, with fancifully arranged
brilliant "tignon" who had clung to her old masters
& old life - looking well contented looking on the new
nigger and the new regime. The cottage situated
directly on the street in front had a garden on the
side street that also admitted on Esplanade Avenue.
the frontage of this garden had little more to it
than would admit a gate ; but as it [stretched?]
[along?] the side street it widened to a good size
following the side angle in its slanting divergence
from the point of intersection. The old fashioned
garden its [waspish?] fruit trees lining its walls. At
[---?] within the precinct & the garden - these
had [grown?] but later had overlapped the street wall,
casting their grateful shade during the heat of the
day and shedding their pungent & delicate bloom and
as [-----ably?] for passers by as for their rightful
owners.
When the orange blossoms came & the white petals fell
like perfumed snow flakes groups of children , black &
white, could be seen gathering them up to make [cousens?]
or wrought flower rings - & when the figs made their
appearance [paragraph crossed out] proprietary rights -
only the inside boughs, under the protection of the
armoured wall, whose top bristled with cemented broken
[bottles?] kept the luscious purple "celeste" for
proprietary rights.
A huge magnolia tree grew at the end of the garden &
old Pierre always grumbled about the shade that
hurt his roses - once he had even spoken of the
advisability of having it cut down but this had
raised a veritable tempest over his head and the tree
with its buds slowly opening like great ivory stars
studding its lustrous green foliage stood sentinel
still. [paragraph crossed out] - Pale oleanders &
[crape?] myrtle vie with the roses in a revel of
delicate colour - while the sweet olive and magnolia
frusetia mingle with the night flaming circus & Spanish
jasmine in a wild orgy of perfumed odours that the
breezes caught and wafted, lulling the senses into
dreaming somnolence which the passionate starlight
overhead awoke into pulsing heartbeats.
Old [Pierre?] ruled the garden like a sovereign -
the fruit and the flowers were his to dispense to the
family as his judgment indicated - but his way in was
swayed and old [Pierre?] himself governed by a tiny
white hand and a childish [----?] laugh more potent in
its spell than all whose from the Czar of all the
Russias - Jeanette la Benjamine ruled over old Pierre
& all the household lesser gods from her father
down She have de judgment for de fruit - he teaches
her - she know de time for all - & she have one eye to
see higher [sur?] me de ripe top branch wid de hidin'
peach.
Jeanette was the youngest, as her pet name Benjamine
indicated - no later competitor would ever out rule her from
her pritins [pretence?] of supremacy; for her mother had died
in giving her birth, and the patches of baby hood
clung about her, each of the family put out a surplus
avenue of bare hands for petite Benjamine to make up
to her for that loss. Dainty & graceful exquisitely
shaped & moulded she still lacked the beauty of Reinette
the eldest & in this lack of what seemed the curious
misfortune her shock of curly hair was decidedly red -
Quick and restless in her movements she darted here
and there, the gleam of her red curls betraying her,
but when one thought to find her she was gone & out of
reach. Then in another direction the red curls
gleamed as their owner danced a [quickstep?] pas seul
& laughed her little elfin laugh. So, by and by,
owing to this will o' the wisp trick of hers and the
mercurial versatility of her composition mental &
physical, little Jeanette came by the "soubriquet"
of "Feu Follet." From childhood to girlhood Feu Follet
danced along. Her quickness of leaving & her lightness
of mind [seemingly?] from crass ignorance though she
always went to Reinette if she had a letter to write
- "to be sure of the spelling" "I am busy, go to
the dictionary" her sister [too?] sometimes say - "Oh!
the dictionary is stupid; takes such a looking up
& loss of time - now you are much better Reinette;
you are a speaking dictionary" and the elder sister
would laugh & Feu Follet would have her way.
But the time came when Feu Follet was not to have her
way - for her godmother appeared on the scene to
interview her [father?] about her.
"Mon cher Charles something must be done with that
child - she must go to the convent to learn manners -
she is like a little wild colt - what manner of woman
or mother will she make. As the man stalled into
thought about his little Feu Follet he had not a word
to say.
"Do with her as you think best - she is your god-child
& you stand to Jeanine (her) in the place of her
mother"
So Feu Follet's convent trousseau was begun & ended
under difficulties - Every one in the house was
eternally racing after her - Finally one of the boys
was kept from school so as to be always at hand to
fetch the delinquent to the waiting sempstress
[seamstress?] or dressmaker. But Feu Follet was fully
equal to the occasion & many a protracted hunt she led her
[Victor?] - stealing away in his stills, in the
management of which she was a perfect adept, until
[--?] [---?] by give up the chase - [At?] another
time he would find her easily but the little
temptress had provided herself with bait &
paraphernalia to go crawfishing & so instead of
bringing her back home would follow or lead her to the
bayou or some other sport very grand & might [even?]
be absent [falling?] before the two made their
appearance among the distracted household. Prepared
to scold the father would soon be laughing as she
[spilled?] her basket of crawfish on the kitchen
table - And then a scramble would ensue to capture
the crawling specimens she was exhibiting & that
heavier load Victor was carrying for the [v---er's]
"bisque." Finally the last of the trousseau was
finished & Feu Follet led captive to the Anseline
Convent - The godmother had had to take this duty
on herself ; no one in the house being equal to
it & this hatred which accrued to her in consequence
from the forsaken subject of Feu Follet was bitter,
if low and unheard. Only old Pierre dared to speak
out & the boys clustered round him [---ing?] in his
lamentations, but they soon deserted the garden,
the old man chasing them from spot to spot because
that was Feu Follet's place & no one would spoil it
in her absence. Happily school & books got the
benefit of the old man's disciplinarian hand ;
for the boys fell back upon these in self defense.
Reinette & her father glanced at each other, the
change in the household was so great. Feu Follet's
light had gone & the place wore a darker aspect,
everything about it seeming unnatural. But after
a while things adjusted themselves & the hardness
seemed almost natural. Only old Pierre grew more
savage. Everything went wrong : the fruit did
not ripen properly, the spring was too soon,
the roses were blighted for want of light. Feu
Follet's red head the sun itself seemed to have gone.
Reinette was just turned seventeen when the
monotony of the house caused by Feu Follet's absence
was broken by the introduction into the family
circle of a young cousin from the North.
A Northerner "un Honore" Edmee Duplessis had married
but he was a staunch States rights man & when the
war broke out between the North and the South
he threw himnself heart & soul with the confederate
cause. Too old himself to join the army he had sent
his eldest son to the front & his steamships running
between Havana and New Orleans were among the oldest
of the blockade runners. Then fearing for his young
wife and two children he had brought them to Europe
to await the issue himself returning to the States
to continue the fight & accumulate an immense fortune
by his blockade running. When the war had ended in
[victory?] for the North he had settled in New York
establishing a line of steamships between Havana
New Orleans & New York. Edmee Duplesssis (Mrs. Hunt)
always devoted to her brother, had now sent her
youngest boy to him - "Pour se [rechercher?] [Francais?]
& perdre son accent Americain." Thus Jack Hunt found
himself an inmate of the little cottage & a new era
began in the life of the inmates thereof
Feu Follet occupied in the Convent des Anselines heard
of the news & her pranks and mischief increased thereby
in proportionate ratio - Her plan was to make the sisters
say that they could not keep her. But her scheming
proved vain. Angelic patience was the weapon they
opposed to the recalcitrant until the fight was
transferred to the small person of Feu Follet herself
a fight between her mischievousness & her lovable
nature, wherein each success easily undid the work
of the other - and the sisters, torn between
discipline and affection, installed Feu Follet with
a most unique position, that of being the most
punished & yet the most loved of all their pupils.
Finding at last the futility of all her endeavours
to be sent home - she turned her [touches?] on Reinette
and her father & when they came to see her it was
such pleadings that, totally upset, they discontinued
their regular visits & Feu Follet, neglected & aggrieved
cast about for some plan by which to [unite?] Convent
& relatives & get her own sweet way.
From the most refractory she became the most docile of all
pupils - & the nuns looking upon her supression as their
greatest triumph allowed their repressed affection
full sway & Feu Follet became established as the privileged
pet of the convent. Down in the cottage the advent of Jack
Hunt had been followed by a revelation which though silent in
its onward march involved such momentous issues that it
was to shake the family foundations like an earthquake
- the first who realised the danger & who raised the
signal there was Feu Follet's god mother.
"Mais mon cher Charles tu es arrange - Can you not see
Reinette is in love I do not speak of her cousin, for
fellows like him fall in love & out of love twenty times
before they settle down. But Reinette Edmee est une
[prele?] & you are blind - blind to have thrown those
two so closely together."
Mr. Duplessis, dumbfounded, gazed at Feu Follet's
godmother -
"But ma chere Jeanne Reinette is a child."
Child ! She will be eighteen her next birthday - I was
married at 17 - your wife at 16 -
But what makes you think ?
I don't think - I know.
But they are cousins germain -
Worse luck - these cousins gave priviliges & the
privileges are the first to [fall?] - when the
conflagration is on, what then ? - It is too late -
What must I do ?
The perfect [--laces?] [swear?] of the [tone?] was [comical?]
in the extreme ; but Madame St. Germain was too occupied
with the revenues of the [portions?] to see anything
laughable about it.
You must write to your sister & speak to the young man.
Mais Mon Dieu - I cannot tell her Reinette is in love
when Jack - I do not know If he was not my nephew I
could ask him his intentions.
Oh ! he will tell you his intentions very quickly -
That is not the point - they are "cousins germain"
& even if you would look over that perhaps Edmee &
her husband would not - Oh ! where can miracles - I
have been watching for this "But mon cher Charles
you have been blind - blind" The upshot of all this
was that several letters passed between the brother
and sister, several between the mother and son - & then
the young man carried the day & Reinette, before she
had made her [client?], was engaged to her cousin.
Feu Follet at the Anseline Convent ignorant of these
changes ; but irritated by the absence & the silence
& the mystery of it all, resolved a great coup d'etat
& continued lulling the sisters into security by the
seductive charm of her sweetness & affection.
(Chapter II)
Reinette was seeing to her dress for the mystic
Revue ball - when Manu came by, to tell her that
one of the sisters from the Anseline convent wanted to
see her.
Ask her to wait Manu - I shall be down as soon as I
can - Monsieur Jack is in - perhaps he could see the
sister until I come.
Reinette went on with her dress fitting & Manu went
in search of Monsieur Jack. When Manu left the name, the
latter as if she were thoroughly acquainted with the
place went through the side passage & wandered slowly
down the garden. It was March & the spring was well
advanced [some?] of old Pierre's roses were in flower
the peach trees were pink & the orange blossoms
were drifting their snow petals onto the ground where
they lay in little heaps making the air redolent with
sweet perfume sending a thrill of delight with the
awakened consciousness of Spring. The short, ideal,
perfect Spring that cloths old New Orleans with its
echoes of love song & love romance, borne by every
breeze, lurking in every bloom.
Finally the sun came up to where Pierre was working. The
old man took up his hat made the sign of the cross &
waited for the sister to speak.
But he waited in vain - only an intractible murmur
issued from behind the nun's clasped hands as she raised
her eyes in prayer & benediction. Then old Pierre
beheld something extraordinary, the nun turned suddenly
- bolted he would have said in another case - & as
she walked away her shoulders began to heave in a
strange manner, & a gurgling sound, for all the world
like suppressed laughter, fell upon the old man's
perplexed and awe-struck ears. Again he made the sign
of the cross & followed the strange sister. As he
shuffled along rapidly after her, seeming to gain ground,
the nun increased her speed & the old man his, until
they were both running as fast as they could one after
the other down to the end of the garden & Jack Hunt,
sent by Manu to find the sister, with his eyes followed
this strange scene & then took to his heels after them.
When he caught up with the two the nun had [sank?] on
a little [keg?] kept inviolate by old Pierre & known as
Feu Follet's Place. She was laughing almost hysterically
old Pierre stood before with his mouth wide open in
[---ed?] and astonishment.
Finaly he gasped Feu Follet as the nun still laughing
pushed back her white cap & showed Feu Follet's
unmistakeable red curls.
"Mais ca tu [folle?] ma fille - Jesus Marie - [dire?]
[te?] [rier?]?"
(But here you are crazy my daughter - Jesus Mary -
where did you come from).
Thus was Jack Hunt introduced to his future sister-in-law
& thus Feu Follet left the convent & came back home.
Chapter III
I am going to the ball, Feu Follet announced when the
family has somewhat recovered their equilibrium at
the onslaught of her unexpected presence. She had
been watching Reinette try on her finished costume
for the [Cortius?] ball.
But you have no invitation said her [---?]
You are not [out?] yet.
Well, whether I am out or in, I have an invitation, &
what's more, what do you call that? & she held up a
square piece of paste board. Reinette, surveyed
the dance call from some master.
Well I never - and you such a child - But you can't
go Jeanette you have no dress to wear & no time to make
one.
I am going all the same.
Costume de rigeur - you can't go
Costume de rigeur I can go.
Is your fairy godmother going to dress you ?
Yes
Then she danced away to whisper something into old Manu's
ear.
When the night of the ball arrived Reinette in her
splendour had forgotten all about Feu Follet's threat of
going & she & Jack were very much engrossed talking to
each other - Feu Follet's godmother was [before?] [long?]
they were calling for her & Finally they [----?] the
carriage wheels & Reinette called to Manu.
The old woman came leaving the cloaks.
I told you, Manu, I would wear the pink one.
Jack, help me on with it.
But Jack's eyes were taken up by the sight of a little
white robed figure coming in throught the door.
Feu Folle said Reinette in [astonished?] amazement
where in the world did you get that dress?
"My fairy god mother" laughed the latter. This is my
first communion dress and the neck cut out and the
sleeves made short. I rather liked putting it on.
I look best in holy attire - don't you think so frere
Jack ?
Her black eyes danced & she shook her gold red curls
till they glistened under the light of the chandeliers.
Jack Hunt looked at her. He didn't say much. The
beauty of the child was a revelation to him & he
almost regretted the invitation the card he had
caused to have sent her in a tantalising mischief
fit - for she had got the better of them all &
something like a fear of her crept over him.
Feu Follet hummed the [cachucha?] & fell into the steps
of it, her hands beating imaginary castanets over
her head. But old Manu threw her cloak about her
& hurried her down to the carriage.
All the way to the Opera House she was soundly
railed by her godmother for coming at all.
"If you had been my child instead of my godchild - then
I wouldn't have been Feu Follet at all. Maybe you
wouldn't have married her; but somehow I would have
missed my "nenaine" & she took Mme. St. Germaine's
hand & kissed it.
After this conciliatory episode Mme. St. Germaine
was silent. In the dressing room she gave Feu Follet
a quick [appealing?] glance as the child stood before
her in her dress white organdy.
Ma pile est le plus belle des deux she said to herself
& Feu Follet basked in full instant favour.
When Jack Hunt had left his two girl charges in the seats
reserved for the dances & seen to Mme. St. Germaine's
comfort in one of the upstairs boxes he went on with
his duties as usher ; but still his mind reverted to
the quasi child-like figure robed in her transformed
communion dress & he would have liked to read what
was passing in her fertile brain. What was in
Reinette's mind he knew well enough & he loved her &
felt proud of her queenly beauty that well beseemed
her name.
But the other one beside her that Feu Follet that
sparkled with evasive light, he would have liked to
[probe?] her awakening mind through the images
of [recurrance?] & worldliness - through the mysteries of
passing - soul [-ac---ce?] & keen mordant physical
preys that he fell [cu--ry?] [--?] [--?] [----?] [her?]
And the child too, swayed by all these in this
imitation feast to night, duelled with the power of
the unknown - launched as the wing of passion swept
athwart her cheek, to leave her incarnadined
by the blush of [motions?] she did not comprehend.
But his senses danced and tingled with the [moment?],
the light, the life, the [peciousness?] of it all,
& her many sided nature, like a reflecting prism,
not only caught the flame of beauty, but radiated
it in glowing, dazzling colour. When her name was
called and she passed out in Jack Hunt's arms to
her waiting master, people turned to look at her, &
Jack Hunt felt a mad desire to change places with
the nun in whose charge he was giving her.
Chapter IV
"I shall make my debut next year" Feu Follet had
announced the morning after the ball - Reinette &
she had both got up & gone to early mass & now they
sat at breakfast when Feu Follet made the
announcement.
I wish I hadn't gone to mass this morning. I was
having such beautiful dreams when Reinette woke
me & then that horrid priest. I would not like to
go to confession to him, Reinette, he [switched?]
me [prehead?] so with the ashes I feel as if the
cross was marked on it now."
She [brushed?] her white [prehead?] & turned it for
inspection to Jack Hunt.
"There's nothing on it new is there ?"
"Nothing" he said but somehow long after he could
never think of that violet white bow that the
sight of the cross did not seem to come before him
in its satin [surface?]
[page?] 31
The days passed by and Reinette became absorbed by
her trousseau. She & Mme. St. Germain had whole days of
shopping & fitting on & Feu Follet & the boys revelled
in every folly that their combined ingenuity could
devise. When the monthly reports from school came in
Mr. Duplessi put them by in despair. Finally he
determined to appeal to Feu Follet & the result was
that for a week the dullness of the house was something
phenomenal. Manu kept feeling Feu Follet's pulse &
looking at her tongue and making her swallow decoctions
& "yaro" teas. Old Pierre never threw temptation in
her way ; but she passed them all with surprise
indifference ! Immersed in her work or her needle or
some housekeeping detail Feu Follet the demure was
unassailable and unrecognizable. Finally everybody
began to get cross. Manu went [away?] such as [paid?]
her up. Old Pierre exhibited a flaming red bandana
around his face & his old straw hat, pulled well down
over his eyes, showed a stern signal not to be despised.
Reinette & Jack sat conspicuously at a distance from
each other. M. Duplessis sighed heavily & the boys
fell to blows. Victor's bleeding nose testifying to
the fray. And still through all the disturbance Feu
Follet the angelic shed her [c---ive?] sweetness. One
day when the air of the house seemed particularly boring
& noxious, she gave a little elfin cackle "Qui [aime?]
me suivre" where Where ? asked the boys. "To the City
Park" said the commander in chief and there was a general
exodus to the picnic inaugurated as a peace maker
by Feu Follet. "Nenaine & you can come later Reneitte.
We will have everything ready for you and amid much
laughter the caravan set out.
Oh ! the [wild?] sweet liberty of that spring under the
live oaks of the old city park. Feu Follet revelled
in it, Jack Hunt [followed?] her as one fascinated.
Duplessi was to come later with Reinette & Mme. St.
Germaine, but Jack had not time for them, the boys
had set up a wild yell of welcome when he turned up
ahead but later privately dubbed him a "chump" & as
Feu Follet wished to play the polite to her
prospective brother-in-law she came under the [tree?],
& the two found themselves isolated but yet never
noticed the fact. At last the boys rejoined them
Reinette Mme St. Germain & Mr Duplessis came up -
the lunch was eaten the day was spent & the picnic
over only something lingered of it. Something that
made of the day a red letter day - the unexplained,
unexplainable, something upon which, like a pivotal
hinge, silently turns the door of Fate.
After the picnic Jack [secured?] engrossed in
business Even his evenings were taken up & Reinette
commenced to fret at being left so much to herself.
Feu Follet seemed like one possessed "une possede"
The house shook with her [folly?] it rang sweet with
her laughter - it echoed with her song, only Manu
noticed the dark rings under her eyes & old Pierre
watched her furtively - she seemed so still when
no one was around.
"Papa she said one day would you mind if I joined
the opera"
"A daughter of mine - a Duplessis - try the opera -
Oh! I mean study for it. I was singing the other
day at [H----tine's?] & some of the opera people
came there & they said I had a [fortune?] in my
throat. What is the use of keeping the song & the
life & the fortune shut up tight & dark & silent
just because I'm a Duplessis. Mme. Baux gave me
some lessons because she wanted to see what I could
do - and later I'll sing Mignon for you.
M. Duplessis listened. He listened till the tears
came to his eyes & then he stole out of the room
overcome by the passion in the child's voice, &
the sudden realisation of it unseen in his belle
Feu Follet. As, unperceived, he stole out of the
door, Jack Hunt, attracted by the music, Jack
Hunt came in by another. Feu Follet's voice rang
out in the passionate longing of the closing lines
c'est toi qui je voudrais [voir?] - [rire?], aussi
souvent" Then the unexplained - unexplainable
something of the picnic day took shape. She
finished her song, turned & freed the something in
the man beside her.
Reinette came in & smiled at them both
Ma foi Jeanette you are operatic & Jack Is anything
the matter ?
I ! No. - Why ?
Reinette did not answer - only she made up her mind
she was not going to let Jack work so hard.
Feu Follet had run into the garden & nobody but old
Pierre [had?] saw her weeping bitterly under the fig
tree where she had laughed so heartily as an Ursuline
nun. Nobody had seen her but old Pierre & nobody but
Old Pierre saw Jack Hunt slip from the house searching
the garden till he found Feu Follet weeping her heart
out under the fig tree. And the wedding preparations
went on & Feu Follet seemed under an exhilarating
spell at the thought of the coming festivities.
She danced & sang & filled the house with laughter
& light & Reinette with quiet [semi-matronly?]
airs tried to quiet her.
"Jeanette, learn to be quiet, know how soon you will
have to take my place."
And Feu Follet had stopped short in the midst of her
gyrations & pirouetting [the?] [----?] of last night's
ballet.
"Madamoiselle [Freqelle?] sa dereuir [derriere?] Madame
et pata ti pata ta - she had sung back at her sister;
but she had run down the hall away from Reinetta as
she sang this and her nice short [paragraph crossed out]
She had stuffed her handkerchief into her mouth and how
could Reinetta guess that it muffled laughter or not ?
Enfant terrible, laughed Reinetta - Rira peu qui rira
le dernier.
It was just one week before the wedding when the house
of joy was turned to a house of mourning. Feu Follet
was gone. Gone without one word. Disappeared completely
& left no trace ; but the [wound?] [---nition?] in the
hearts of those who loved her [that?] she had gone off
with the opera singers.
To Madame St. Germain's expostulations that something
should be done - Feu Follet should be followed up &
brought back, Mr. Duplessis, usually so placid & easily
influenced, [---ing?] into a mighty passion, had
declared that never again she should cross his threshold.
She cannot efface the disgrace, let her take it with her."
And the whole house sank under its burden of sorrow.
Reinetta folded away her wedding things. I cannot
leave Papa now - later she had said to Jack as she had
told him of her decision & the white misery on the man's
face had helped her with the knowledge of his sorrows.
Only old Pierre remembered what Jack Hunt had tried to
[protect?] & the secret lay between them - unguessed
by one, untold by the other.
Chapter V [page?] 40
Poor little Feu Follet. She had borne her trouble
bravely. When sobbing her heart out under the fig tree
Jack Hunt had surprised her & she had felt his arms
about his & her lips, had clung to him in the first
wild flood of her passionate nature the innate loyalty
of the child had stood her in good stead. "[Er?]" she
had said "I hate you. Reinetta is too good for you."
Had the man, ashamed of himself had turned & gone
leaving the child - [woman?] a prey to conflicting
emotions & sensations & leaving her in the [moral?]
experience as in a mad mailstrom [maelstrom?] from
which by superhuman effort she tore herself loose.
Battling for the white instinct of sight, that shone
as a guiding star, amid the wild blur of darkest
passions , [----hed?] into life and flame.
Feu Follet had gone. She had stolen out of the
house, following the dark winding streets,
[careering?] at every step, but pushing on ahead
- until the well known convent walls stood before her.
She had rung the bell and waited. The night sister
had answered & Feu Follet had followed as she
led the way to the Mother Superior. Then there
was a blank. Later Feu Follet hid her red [gr-?]
curls under the white cap of the Ursuline nun, &
under the black habit to still memory & life & nature.
The deferred marriage simply lapsed.
"I cannot leave my father." Reinetta had answered
when after some months Jack had written to broach
the subject again. The trousseau & the bridal
finery, dress, wreath, & veil, were left by
undisturbed & the girl next in her soft [fr--led?]
spoken way, scarce looming back on the narrow
hard path her duty seemed to have carved for her.
But the man as the months went by thought of nothing,
lived for nothing but the one wish to come again face
to face with Feu Follet.
The mad desire ate into his nature, sapped his strength
& his parents in dread of some mind disease sent him
travelling abroad. Through France at first searching
- searching did he go - But no clue could he find -
Never by chance did he come across the members of the
Opera Troupe that had been supposed to induce Feu Follet
away. Then he pushed on with the same result. Blank
disappointment followed him everywhere. But as the
chance of coming across Feu Follet dwindled the mad
desire grew until it absorbed him completely. It
became meat & drink to him . Every fibre of his
being, every nerve of his body, every thought of his
mind, centered upon this one point till it became as
a luminous disk, the constant dwelling & gazing upon it
hypnotised the man, he would fall into semi trances,
where, upon the blackness of self consciousness
floated only the image of Feu Follet. Obedient to
the laws that govern man, thought & psychic phenomena
in her convent cell, surrounded by all the mysteries of
the Church of Rome, safe guarded by every device from
worldly intrusion, obedient as metal to the touch of a
magnet, Feu Follet's being turned to the far-away call.
In telepathic union & correspondence these two souls
floated towards each other across the sea of absence &
distance & circumstance, blind pilot of fate, guided
them forward & inwards. "Save me, Mother, save me
from myself" had been Feu Follet's wild cry to the
Mother Superior the night that she had crept forth
blinded by conflicting emotions & terrors, flying to
the convent light as a search from the darkness
around. And the nun had saved her in the only way
she knew, by shielding her under the protecting wings
of Mother Church. Feu Follet had thrown herself
eagerly, hungrily into this new phase of emotion &
her fasts & penances had curbed the wild young
blood that, [stain]
touch & kiss of life, had threatened destruction in
it's spring fold. But now the pendulum was swinging
slowly, surely the other way. In vain she beat her
breast & faster & did penance - the old ecstasy was
gone - Her flesh rebelled and cried out ; but her
soul was silent. It was like trying to revive some
dying embers - they but died the quicker. Then she
commenced to loathe her surroundings & with the loathing
there came fear. The statue of the Virgin that she
had gazed upon until it seemed to breathe & the glory
about the head to become a [nimbus?] of living flame
new remained black & unanswering. In vain she told
her rosary - in vain she repeated the litany - the
pitiless unresponsiveness remained the same & in
the empty chamber of her soul there rang [--?]
the echo of her own consciousness cry (hegemony).
She grew more & more to dread its calm serenity (of
the virgin's statue), it's impassive inexpressiveness.
No longer an intercessor but an accuser whose stony
stare gazed through her, read her, & condemned her,
the virgin had become Feu Follet clasped the crucifix
to her breast, praying no more the mother to
intercede with her son but the son to save her from
the mother.
In this mutual conflict she became pale & thin & the
eyes of the Mother Superior were often fixed upon her,
struck as she was by the change in Feu Follet.
But on these occasions it was not to her physical self
that Feu Follet alllowed close questioning looks ; but
to the change in her inward self that the sacred instinct
of the Mother Superior had revealed to her. And the poor
child became possessed of only one thought flight. With
a strange dovetailing of circumstance, Fate seemed
to plan for her.
My Child you are looking pale said the Mother Superior.
Ask Sister Rose to let you have the key to the gate &
you can stay down in the garden in her stead until I
send her back.
So Feu Follet had gone down to the porters - the
[caller?] had left alone with the key in her hand
She watched the nun's black coated figure go up the
garden walk & then disappear within the convent. To
put the key in the lock open the gate & stand outside
was the work of a moment. With tremulous fingers she
took the key from the inside locked the gate outside
& then with the key in her pocket turned away.
Her temples were throbbing and her knees [torn]
fence hid her emotions from the curiosity of any
passer by & she hurried on & on - aimless in her
flight but with one idea to put distance between
the convent and herself. On & on she hurried
fancying she heard footsteps behind her & voices
calling. Once she broke into a run, so madly
frightened she had become ; but she checked herself
as she someone turn to look at her.
She turned into narrow by streets, keeping off the
main thoroughfares. Aimlessly she wandered often
obliged to retrace her steps in her lack of knowledge
of how the streets ran. Suddenly the sound of music
struck her ear & every one she saw commenced to run
Two or three masked players passed. Little children
cried chique a la paille. One of the figures a
[clown?] with a long tail dangling almost knocked her
down as he hurried after the urchins & then upon her
dazed mind broke the fact that this was Mardi Gras &
the [Rex?] procession not far away. Away past the
direction of the music & the ongoing crowd she hurried.
As she turned down a deserted street she came across
a small shop which for the time being had been left to
take care of itself. Some one was probably in the
interior but unguarded at the door were displayed
some apples & cakes & above them on a string fluttered
a row of masks, comic things that grotesquely leered at
her.
She sat on the empty steps to rest & her eyes turned
towards the masks & the cakes - fruit - [Having?] the
[fruit?] fluttered a black cloth mask & Feu Follet
got up & looked at it. A sudden idea had flashed
& if she had that mask she might pass as a masker &
unobserved ahead through all the crowds & her flight
could be assured. She reached for it instinctively
& tied it on - then snatching an apple hurried
away from the stall before anyone should come.
Chapter VI
Jack Hunt was down on a visit. New Orleans drew him
like a magnet. The marriage question was a thing of
the past. Feu Follet's [folly?] & the disgrace attached
to the family though had put a precluding clause to it
in the eyes of Jack's parents even if Reinetta had
felt free to leave her father.
Jack had come to see the Duplessis & Reinetta had
received him with a shy coldness of manner that the
young fellow interpreted as he most desired it to
be - a change in her regard for him.
His mind relieved of any latent reproach in regard to
Reinetta turned with a renewed bound & spring towards
the thought of Feu Follet. Everything about this
Mardi Gras reminded him of her & so much did he
think of her & so close did she seem that he almost
fancied she walked behind him & called his name.
Once he turned abruptly as a masker in a nun's habit
brushed him by. It reminded him of Feu Follet & his
first sight of her & he followed the masker. He saw
a [devil?] duck his arm under the nun's & the
desecrating the thought of Feu Follet connected
with such ribaldry made him turn away. Then a
disgust came upon him of the whole mad show & he
turned away from the crowded streets & went towards
his uncle's cottage. He knew that Reinetta was to
spend the day with Mme. St. Germain but old Pierre
would be there & he would go into the garden & sit
and think. He had thought to find the garden gate
unlocked ; but evidently old Pierre had been
afraid of [the devilry?] of some of the maskers & had
turned the key so Jack had to await the old man's
coming to let him in. He could hear him mumbling as
he neared the gate & turned the key & by that sign
Jack knew he was in one of his savage moods.
Bonjour Pierre
Mauvais jour, mumbled the old man. Ca te vole.
Speak English Pierre. I don't understand your gumbo
French.
Gumbo French What you want deu?
I want to come in -
De back way ? Nobody but niggers come dese [this?] way.
But he opened the gate a little under & let Jack
through.
You don't need to lock the gate Pierre - I am going
to sit in the garden.
Sit in de garden for wat ? Nobody in dese [this?] garden
now - Nodody seence [since?]. You nebber [never?]
seed [saw?] her seence [since?] ? and the old man
pointed with his black bony finger to the seat under
the fig tree - Feu Follet's old seat, from whence one
day she had slipped away and never came back.
Jack Hunt felt a hot flush come over his face.
Nobody has seen or heard.
Nobody seed [seen?] or heerd [heard?] - but me & I
know yo [you?] know war [where?] she am [is?]. Mo ti
fille. [Ma petite fille?] For big tears welled down
the old red black cheeks "Tell me she am [is?] well
he continued & there was a half not [knot?] in his
voice as he spoke.
Pierre, said the young man ; you [mistah?]
I do not know where she is.
You do not know ? you nebber [never?] fin' [find?]
out & you mak [made?] her go ?
There was a world of wide contempt in the old negro's
voice.
He turned away abruptly and Jack heard him mutter
fiere canaille.
Old Pierre went to work in a corner of the garden
farthest away from Jack Hunt & the latter sat in Feu
Follet's seat & before the old man's arraignment
lived over past events in another light.
He had thought that Feu Follet had joined the
singers from frivolity, love of change and adventure.
Now he saw it in another light & through the pain
& the agony of it [shielded?] the triumphant note
that it was from love of him that she had gone.
Duty to Reinetta and love of him - entangled in the
meshes of both she had cut the Gordian knot by flight
Poor little Feu Follet, her dancing flame had burned
on the altar of sacrifice and he Jack Hunt had
plunged her into suffering perhaps disgrace. He was
tortured at the thought of her. Where was she, into
what had she fallen, what depths she might be in of
disgrace or shame he would find her out. But the
hope still remained paramount with him that the
child's innate purity would stand her in good stead
& that Reinetta's feelings were changed towards him.
Feu Follet could be his with a clear conscience.
And so he speculated & thought he would restart in his
search for Feu Follet with renewed zeal & his
naturally sanguine temperament took fire & hope
blazed into certainty - he would find her - find
her soon - & they would live happily ever afterwards
like the old fairy stories all ended.
As he sat lost in dreams old Pierre [was?] away taking
furtive looks at him - The frequent scowling glances
of the old man disturbed Jack. He had lulled himself
into peace & he did not like to be irked so after a
while he rose to go. The old man hobbled after him
to lock the gate, but ere they either of them
reached it, outside could be heard voices, jeering
laughter & raucous [---?] pitched in a tremulous way.
Jack Hunt hurried out but old Pierre slammed the gate
& locked it hurriedly. As Jack turned towards the
voices he saw a couple of maskers, one of them a nun
was trying to hold fast to her mask, which the other
was trying to pull off.
"I don't believe you're a masker - You are a nun - a
real nun."
He held her by the waist and arm whilst with the other
he struggled to pull down her hand that were clasped
over her face. Then Jack heard the woman call Pierre
With one bound he was beside her "Unhand her" he said
to the red devil that clutched at the nun.
But the man only laughed.
Then something strange happened - the nun ceased her
struggles and the man felt her grow a dead weight on his
arms.
"By George she's fainted" he said. With no more ado he
laid down the nun down on the pavement & ran away.
You can be [took?] - I'm off - he shouted to Jack
Hunt who had raised the [------?] woman's head on
his knee.
One moment & the mask was off & Feu Follet's pallid
face & clear eyes met his sight.
To lift her in his arms and carry her to the gate was
the work of a moment.
"Pierre - Pierre" he cried as he knocked on the gate
- but only a chuckle from the [ver -negh?] answered
him some distance off.
Pierre Pierre - open the gate
Master de fruit do - sang back old Pierre
Feu Follets colour had come back I can't see
Pierre she said tremulously
Jack Hunt pushed back the white coif - her [---ine?]
was there. This was no masker he held in his arms
but a real woman.
My Lord said the man & the woman gathered herself
together & pulled her black veil over her face.
And so there was turned away from the little green
garden gate while old Pierre chuckled a the trick
he had played on Michie [Monsieur?] Jack.
Part II [page?] 1
To quaint and beautiful Stockbridge Jack Hunt had
brought Feu Follet.
To the girls mind like the whirling events of a
dream had succeeded the episodes that had led her
there - The change of her nun's dress at a
costumiers where Jack had brought her that eventful
day - The sting of the woman's words as she helped
her to dress "Nun-bird or prison-bird" she had
muttered to her daughter & Feu Follet had heard the
words & felt the first lash of the world's contempt.
Then for a time she had forgotten it all - the mad
fear of being recognised as she passed with Jack
through the over familiar streets - the hurrying to
the station - the settling in the train - the slow
passing out of the city & the beating of her heart
to the increasing speed of the engine that bore her
away. The stopping at Mobile - the civil marriage
- The slipping on of the plain gold ring with neither
date nor name.
in the [last?] chapter that had followed now she was here
in the beautiful elm village & [Summer?] & the past - like
[dea-t-?] & the future were dew and mist - like unrealities
in the dream of to-day.
In this atmosphere of love & happiness she developed
physically like a flower in the sun. The [py--?] of her
being radiated from her a subtle charm of manner & expression
people paused to look back at her.
The impression that she shone with - her was one of light -
dazzling light from the golden red gleam of her curly hair
- the almost diaphanous transparency of her complexion &
the large hazel eyes whose luminous depths shone grey-
green with brown as the light flashed upon them & from
them.
No one knew her except by name for she went with no one ;
but her beauty soon became a celebrity and curiosity plied
its two-edged sword of admiration of denigration.
The men looked at her openly - too openly & the women
furtivelty with [sub--p---?] comments & a wide margin
on the pavement as they passed her by - But she in her
ecstatic dream of happiness noticed neither one nor the
other.
To the little cottage on the hill Jack came every week
end from Boston, where he had settled much to his parent's
satisfaction to practise law. Of Feu Follet's existence
they did not dream & Jack's relations with his wife
[u--t--yly?] assumed the covert secrecy of an illicit
liason.
No thought of this came to the girl's mind & if it
crossed the man's he put it by - Feu Follet would not
hear of her identity being betrayed. The connection
with the convent & her position as a [defroquee?]
carrying with it [---?] a branding stigma from which
she shrank for herself & her family - She thought of
nothing - cared for nothing except to live for the man
she loved. In her hours of solitude she went back to
the companionship of her music & her beautiful voice
lured to her more the attention & interest of the
curiosity seekers.
As the men lingered to watch her as she passed
unconscious in her radiant beauty so now, even when
they could not see her, they came about in the hope
of hearing her. The little house on the hill became
home for indeed Jack Hunt's week end trips were
noted and Fate, with relentless hand, pushed still
further with the searching fire of notoriety the
shrinking sensitiveness of her unfortunate [incline?]
The first intimation of the brewing storm came one
day from Jack asking her not to sing. She had gone
to the piano as was her wont ; but he stopped her short.
"Don't sing tonight, Jeanette."
"Why ? Have you a headache ? Are you ill ?"
"No - but it attracts so much attention on Sunday."
These people don't don't believe in singing anything
on Sunday - but hymns."
"Well I can sing some sacred music - but why should
you care ?"
"Because - heaven - Oh ! hang it, Jeanette, I don't
want a crowd leaping about."
The girl closed the piano top - she could not have
sung now if he [now?] [wanted?] her to
There was a great lump in her throat & a vague
indefinite something in her mind like the shadow of a
thing that was to come.
"What is the matter, Jack ? Have you had anything to
fret you ?"
"Well - yes & no - By the by, Jeanette,
don't wear that black hat any more"
The lump in the girl's throat became even bigger - she
took the condemned hat from the table nearby & fingered
its drooping plumes such a lingering caressing touch.
hen she put in on & turned to Jack - Why must I not wear
it You prety - v - v becoming - don't go.
The man looked at her - She was dressed all in black.
Through the heavy [open-work?] embroidery the whiteness
of her neck gleamed. The plumes of the picture hat
mingled with her golden red curls & the large hazel
eyes seemed larger & more luminous for that lump in
her throat had brought to them an [unwanted?] moisture.
"It is too becoming - it makes you too conspicuous."
At that a wave of colour spread over Feu Follet's face.
Without a word she took off the hat & turned away.
The something in her mind had taken shape.
"Jack was ashamed of her."
For the first time the Sunday evening dragged at the
little house on the hill. Feu Follet took a book &
read silently while Jack looked at her & listened to
the steps of the passers by.
After that evening Feu Follet took the black hat &
laid it away. But it had a strange fascination for her
& though she never wore it when going out, she would
take it from it's box & look at it trying to puzzle out
by its help the vexed questions that troubled her.
Every time she took out the hat the putting it back
unworn in its box seemed to become more difficult.
Once she took it to the mirror & fitted it on. It
was certainly very becoming - she could hardly deceive
herself - to take it off & when after a struggle she
did so she touched the plumes caressingly as if they
were sentient beings. Her self pity extended to it.
Such a shame to hide it away. It was too beautiful for
that. Then she rudely shut down the lid of the box,
feeling somehow feeling that she was shutting herself
up with it.
Feminine vanity had put forth its claw & the
[live-----?] was in a fair way to become larger.
Little by little to Feu Follet the hat became
symbolical of the restraints that her passionate
disposition had rebelled against in the past.
She felt that they [burned?] her still & the will-o-
the-wisp blood of her quickened & tingled, calling
her away to the dance of liberty, to the hide & seek
play of original reckless instincts. The steady
gleam of the domestic tallow candle was but a
travesty that Jack Hunt's narrow vision had sought
& clothed her in. Feu Follet's earthly light was
the ignis fatuus & the tallow candle trembled
& quivered, shaken by the power of its imprisoned
flame.
The report of Jack' liason finally reached his
parent's ears. They did not confront him & bring
him to task ; but by every wile they endeavoured to
wean him away.
"He must be married" the mother had said [torn] and
himself in a moral of fashion [torn] which, or to
break things, which would have entailed from him
a full explanation of his relationship to Feu Follet
who had made him promise he would never reveal her
identity.
"I am dead to my people & for them to find me living,
& a [defroquee?] would be worse than death. The civil
marriage, the only one possible for the ex-nun,
thus remained therefore [ignored?] & the world
stamped the brand of shame on the victim of this
man's original weakness & guilt. In the phase of
wifely rebellion [through?] which Feu Follet was
passing she found herself suddenly as it were
deserted. Jack's visits became fewer & fewer. For
afraid to tax him with his neglect the girl suffered
in silence as she had suffered in the [Convent?]
until the suffering became intolerable.
The tension of the situation was brought to a climax,
when one day among a coaching party that had driven
from Lennox, Feu Follet saw Jack seated beside a very
pretty girl. The coach had driven by her quickly, but
not so quickly but that she had perceived that Jack
had seen & recognised her yet had made no sign. The
unavoidable necessity of his ignorance of her never
came to Feu Follet who felt only the sting of a
despised woman & the mad jealousy of the girl who
was seated beside her husband. She went home bent
upon reprisal & revenge. Evidently worried by this
awkward dilemma in which he had been placed Jack
paid an unusual daylight visit to the little house
on the hill almost immediately on the return of the
coaching party to Lennox. The proud Feu Follet
dressed & ready to go out. Never had her resplendent
beauty shone to such advantage. She was dressed in
the same black dress she had worn that Sunday & on
her head was the forbidden hat.
To Jack's greeting she answered in one airy way ;
but eluded the kiss he preferred by a little toss
of her head as she silently kept on charming her
gloves and smoothing them over her small dainty
hands.
Were you going out Jeanette
I am going out.
But I have come to stay.
Well, you can stay - by yourself - or you can go with
the girl you were sitting with on the coach.
I wish I had stayed with her. I'm tired of this nonsense.
Jeanette take off your hat to stay whilst I am here.
The girl let her [---?] at his loss of command
I will [savour?] this hat for you don't like it she said.
Jack watched her leave the room. He heard her going
about in her bed room upstairs. I'm glad I came to make
it all right. He heard the swish of her skirts on the
stair & the sound passed down the hall into the kitchen.
"Gone to see about dinner" & he settled himself
comfortably to wait for her coming. After a while he
commenced to wonder what had detained her so long.
I'll go & see.
He went into the kitchen but Feu Follet was not there.
On the table was a note.
I had sent the girl out before you came.
I am going out now never to return.
She can't go far. I'll find her & bring her back.
With eager haste Feu Follet had hurried from the house.
The old fear of escape was hot upon her - Change -
Change - & freedom with the blind impulses that urged
her forward - that [----ing?] the will-o-the-wisp blood,
her [torn] erratic, inflammable nature that danced
away to perils unknown unquestioningly & unhesitatingly
to experience a restraint when the call came to throw
off the gyros of momentous suffering for the wild
chance of change come from suffering to suffering.
And so she had gone - jealousy & hurt pride, [infin---?]
pride, the fuse that now set fire to the brain of [---?]
[pleasures?] lying in wait for unrequited flame.
She had gone quickly to the station & taken her ticket
to Boston. No tremor - no excitement in manner or speech
had betrayed that tragedy [s--a-ing?] the [s---h?] of the
common place unperceived was stalking by.
Only the pupils of her hazel eyes were unusually
dilated & she sighed as the train steamed out & she
resolutely turned her face from her home.
After a while she commenced to take note of the people
around her. There were not many & they seemed all
of an uninteresting type - all but one woman in a
salvation army dress. The quaint costume drew Feu
Follet's eyes to the woman but the latter took no
note of the attention. The [----?] [-----?] was
lowered towards the window & the woman seemed
absorbed in the flying panorama. Once when the
train gave a lurch she turned around & Feu Follet
caught a glimpse of a pale face with a shock of
red curls much like her own. At the sight of them
a curiosity sprang up in Feu Follet's mind as to
what other similarity there might be between them.
"I'll be able to tell if I looked at her" she
thought. So she set herself to look ; fixedly at
the woman & wishing her to have her way. In
response to the attention the woman turned & looked.
Then Feu Follet crossed over & went to sit by her.
The woman did not seem surprised - but Feu Follet was-
for the look in the face startled her. It was a look
of infinite sadness. The face reminded her of
Reinette - only the curls were red like her own & not
black. Like a flood the memories of her sister, of her
family, of the days of old came surging over Feu
Follet & she caught her breath. "Are you suffering
dear" said the sweet sad [---ce?]
Feu Follet made no answer but for one moment the
anguish of her heart showed in her wonderful eyes
& the woman laid her hand upon hers.
"We women have hard times" she said "Whatever the
station, whatever the calling" But women like you have
peace
Did you ever try to have peace said the woman
The peace that passeth understanding
Her voice had taken on an accent that made Feu Follet
look at her.
But you - you haven't found that peace
It isn't under that hat any more
The sudden vision of a nun's veil & cap rose before
her - but she changed the words she was going to speak
- adding such a harsh bitter laugh "under this"
"Ah !" said the woman "God takes note of the struggle
& Will give you strength."
The strength for what ? To fight or sit still when the
waters are rising - rising - rising . . .
There is a voice that will still them.
Have you heard it ?
I pray for it.
Beat the air with your hands & let the wind answer
with its howling - that is prayer
[Unbelieving?] prayer.
Had believing payed?
Beareth all things - believed all things - protect
all things endureth all things
And you ?
I am praying - God doeth the rest - I will not have
long to wait - soon it will be face to face."
"You look ill."
"Yes I am ill - The work has been too great. I am
going to leave the Army - I am going to find my
husband - I left him years ago because of another
woman - And I am going back to fight her & him -
for God's sake."
"Do you think you will win ?"
"I am content to try - for God's sake."
Did you love him ?
Passionately.
I love him better - I have myself. Before I loved
myself better than him.
Feu Follet looked at her. This was a phase of
character she could not understand.
"I could not do it."
She had answered her own thought & the woman
looked at her. Then she said -
"Will you come with me ? I am getting out at the
next station ?"
Feu Follet hesitated. Was this the turn that her life
was going to take ? Another phase of this old religious
trial ? Again the nun's coif & veil loomed up side by
side with the Salvationist costume & the pale statue
of the virgin rose before her as she gazed at the
woman's face.
"No" she said "I cannot do it."
And so they parted - when the time came the woman said
"God bless you - I will pray for you."
Feu Follet said good bye & clenched her fist & tightened
her lips - resisting the inclination to follow.
An unformed project was in her brain - "I shall go on the
stage & change my name & nobody will know me."
In her purse was a good sum of money & some pearls ; for
Jack had always been open-handed - even lavish - in his
expansivity & that night Feu Follet slept with her boat
ticket under the pillow - tomorrow would see her on her
way to Europe.
Her travelling preparations were soon made - at last she
found herself on the great steamer. An untoward event had
crossed her plans. Smoothly everything had gone. She
was changing her old life as one would a pair of gloves
- leaving the old ones behind.
One thing alone had been a shock to her. The papers that
morning had told of a railway accident on the very line by
which she had travelled from Stockbridge. There was a
list of dead & wounded & among them a Salvation Army
woman. The fact struck her & she wondered if it were the
same woman she had met. But the excitement etc.[of the?]
departure put even that away from [her?]. The receeding
year grew dimmer & dimmer & the great flow of waters
stretched before her & out onto the unknown future danced
the reckless fallability of the will-o-the-wisp.
After searching Stockbridge in a vain effort to find
Feu Follet Dick Hunt had returned to the silent & deserted
house. At first he had thought of her going as only a
threat but when he returned & searched her room her open
& empty pearl box told a tale or reality & forethought.
It might still be another escapade and it might be -
the terror of the thought seized upon him & the man grew
weak. He could hear the servant in the kitchen clattering
about & he shrank at the idea of seeing her & of an
explanation of some time about Feu Folet's absence.
The alternative of speaking to her or sitting down alone
to the meal she was preparing decided him to go out
immediately & get over with it.
"Mrs Hunt has been called away suddenly - by illness -
I remained to tell you - I will not stay to dinner as
I must rejoin her."
The woman looked at him stupidly yet he imagined he saw
a leer on her face as he turned uncomfortably away.
At the railway station he tried to pull himself together.
He even joked with the stationmaster as he paid for his
ticket. But the man as he laughed back at him looked
curious. He knew of Jack Hunt's sub rosa existence
& he remembered that Mrs Hunt's hands had trembled when
she took the change form him for her ticket some hours
previously.
This is a slow train Mr. Hunt.
Oh ! I am not in a hurry said Jack & the answer confirmed
the stationmaster in his suspicions.
"There's been a war or you take my head for a football"
he soliloquised as the train bearing Jack Hunt steamed
away.
As Jack sat in the slow train his thoughts revolved
rapidly. All the incidents of the past came to him
in a whirling pamnorama such as the drowning are said to
see - then of the chaotic future he evolved a different
life for himself & Feu Follet. That he would be able to
follow her up - he had a start - her striking
personality & dress - that hat alone would identify her
so that she would be easily traced unless she would try
to mislead him by changing her costume and disguising
herself. This she would do if she were bent upon his
not finding her ; but after all he did not believe she
would. She only wanted to punish him - her love would
bring her back.
And so he thought & so the train moved on carrying
his physical self as an [----?] mass while his mind &
heart on the wings of thought whirled away unconscious
of the actual present in that mad meeeting of past &
present.
He was shaken out of his dreams by the train stopping
amid a crowd that spoke of some unusual [event?]
He looked out among the excited people & from some one
near window asked what was the matter.
"There's been a smash up on the branch railway & they
are bringing the wounded & dead here for identification."
Like a bolt Dick Hunt shot from his seat onto the
platform outside.
If ? The priceless question rose in a horror of
suggestive possibilites that chased through his brain
like a nightmare & his white dream face peered through
the crowd to where the tender bearers steadily
bore the covered things left from the wreck. He saw
them go into the waiting room & come out empty-handed.
At the door a policeman barred the way from the ringing
crowd letting in only a few at a time. Dick Hunt felt
himself being carried there. He had no sensation of
volition in the going yet he found himself at the
door & the policeman let him in, the man's rugged face
paling at the sight of the drawn agony in Dick Hunt's
face.
Slowly he went to the large table where the things lay
with suggestions of form protruding from under the
covering cloth. At the edge of the table a woman's
hand lay bare & [unmarked?] & unmutilated. On it's
soft whiteness was a plain gold ring & Dick Hunt
shuddered as he remembered Feu Follet's hand. Then
he went up & laid his hand on the cover of that figure
& drew it down. The face was crushed beyond
recognition ; but red gold curls clustered about the
[faceless?] mask. With the steel energy of despair
he uncovered the figure - what was left of it had on
the dress of the Salvation Army - Dick Hunt staggered
- It was only a resemblance but supposing she had
changed her dress ? (Yet a red blot) The quick dread
of the thought [raced?] through his brain. He heard
words of sympathy & he was led away. Then later an
official came to him to ask him who he had identified.
I cannot identify - if nobody claims it I shall bury
her - for it may be my wife.
Would you mind moving your chair a bit - I find it cold
on the other side Feu Follet stirred from her reverie
looked up
Before her stood a delicate looking woman & beside her
a lad of eighteen with a deck chair & rugs.
I beg pardon I didn't know I was taking up someone's room.
In the place that Feu Follet had made the boy called
settled his mother & then when he had tucked her snugly
into her rugs he went off.
Going to take a deck stroll Mamma I'll be back soon.
Fey Follet watched him as he turned away.
He was tall & lithe, but with narrow shoulders [torn]
slight stoop.
When Henson was out of sight the lady turned to Feu Follet
"Have you anything to read. I have this book here &
you can have one if you wish."
Thank you said Feu Follet, as she took the book.
It was Eden Philpott's The Secret Woman.
Do you like Philpotts, she asked as Feu Follet
commenced to turn the pages.
I don't think I ever read anything by him. I read
him because I like to be up in current literature
but I don't like him. I call him Frill Potts & that
book [worthy?] of the man. Curiously Feu Follet
fingered it. Her range of literature has been
abnormally small. Before going to the convent only
the "Literature de Jeunes Filles," supervised by
her god-mother - then the nun's breviary & the holy
books - & only in her short married life the freedom
of choice to read what she would. So as she fingered
the book a strange curiosity came over her - then a
shame-facedness that the other woman would be
watching her as she read.
I would rather not read it now.
All right - you can keep it for some other time.
She turned to her reading & Feu Follet with the closed
book in her hands looked out on the ocean.
Finally the reader closed her book with a sigh. Dear
me - it's my medecine time - I wonder if Dick will come
up ?
Can I get it for you ?
I don't like to trouble you but I must take it with
my bouillon & here is the steward.
No trouble said Feu Follet as she sprang up alertly.
Thank you so much if you will - 26 is the number of my
cabin & you will find the [bottle?] on the top shelf
of the stand
When Feu Follet returned the boy was with his mother.
Awfully kind of you to do my job he said as she came up.
It was no trouble & the lad tucked her in as he had his
mother. Then the steward came up with the bouillon.
I never take that stuff - he said I'll watch you two
enjoy it.
Feu Follet sipped away at the stuff whose only
recommendation was its name etc.
What do you suppose it is made of - he asked - rats
& snails.
And puppy dog tails -
Dick -
Mother -
Feu Follet laughed.
I thought these igredients went in the make up of
little boys - she said while little girls are said
to be made of sugar & spice
and everything nice.
I don't like little girls - he said. I like big girls
There's more to them.
Verite de la Palaise.
Oh ! you speak French. Are you a Canadian ?
No - my mother was French. I am - Smith -
Wide nationality that - laughed the boy.
My My - You mustn't forget - I hope Mrs ? Smith
she paused [---?] [---iser?] overlook your pertness.
Oh ! I don't mind said Mrs. Smith as she airily
replied to the name on the ship's book.
I say it would be awfully jolly if we were sitting at
the same table near Dick - where have they put you ?
I don't know.
Well - I'm going to look & may I have it changed to
ours if they have you stowed away elsewhere.
Feu Follet laughed ; but there was a moisture in her
eye
