Drum (25 page)

The girls would have lingered longer on the balcony, watching the passersby, for it was rarely that they were accorded such a privilege, but Alix herded her charges back into the house and sent a little slave girl—outside oi Onesime there were only female slaves in the house—to tell Rachel to get hers back inside also. There was no reason foi them to soil their dresses and besides it was high time the) were all in bed resting. There would be little sleep tonight for any of them, with the holiday crowds in town from all the outlying plantations.

It was almost three o'clock and she prepared to hoist herself up from the chair with some difficulty. She had achieved enormous proportions—far too large for her tiny feet anc ankles. Who would ever have dreamed that the slender Ali? of Havana would ever become this fat tub of a woman? Bu. it didn't matter now. She enjoyed her food. Devil take it, i was all she had to enjoy these days. That was one reasor she was getting rid of Onesime. When a woman got as fa; as she was, there was little pleasure in bedding oneself witt a man. Moreover, On6sime was not the man he used to be and that was the other reason for getting rid of him.

The door opened and Rachel came out on the balcony Strange, Alix thought, how the years could have addec pounds to her figure and drained them from Rachel's. Ra chel was actually gaunt. Her high cheekboned face with it hollowed cheeks, raised on the thin post of her neck emerg ing from the black stuff of her gown, looked like a copper colored skull stuck on a pike. Rachel seemed to have m breasts at all under the skimpy material, while she. . . . Ali: looked down at the plump melons which overflowed her coi sets. Aie, Nature had been far too generous.

But Rachel was strong, and she helped her mistress rise from her chair and guided her across the balcony and inside where the shuttered light scintillated in a rich pattern of reflected glints from crystal chandeliers, gold-leafed frames, damask upholsteries and a host of little shining bibelots.

"Should I touch up madame's hair a bit before she lies down?" Rachel reached up a bony hand to tuck a stray lock of the elaborate, brassy coiffure back into place. "The gray is begiiming to show through."

Alix brushed the suggestion aside. "No time, cherie. Dominique You called up that he would be back here at three. No telling what he wants."

"Something about Drum?" Rachel's impassive face showed a trace of anxiety, her eyes questioning.

"Probably." Alix settled herself in the big chair where she spent most of her time and looked up at Rachel. "He's your son. I've completely forgotten that I ever gave birth to him."

"Well, I have always been a mother to him." The anxiety in Rachel's face disappeared and her features softened. "Except for you, madame, he is the only person I have ever loved. Mais oui! I was determined to hate him when I found out he was a boy. I had so hoped he would be a girl. But from the first moment I took him in my arms, so helpless, so little and so dependent on me for everything, I loved him."

"Poor Tamboura," Alix sighed. "Mon Dieu, but he was handsome, Rachel. I've never regretted those months I had him. I thought Hercule would take his place and then when I sold him and bought Onesime, I felt sure I had found a substitute for Tamboura, but they were both performers, Rachel, not lovers. And neither of them as handsome as Tamboura."

"Drum is handsomer." Rachel was quick to come to the ooy's defense.

- "He's lighter anyway," Alix admitted, "and no one could say he isn't handsome, but he lacks something that Tamboura had—his savage nobility."

"If you mean he isn't just an ignorant bozal like his fa-there, you are right. Drum is far finer, far more sensitive, far more intelligent than that black ape ever was. What do you suppose Monsieur You wants to talk to you about?"

"I'll find out soon enough." A bell jangled below. "That Bust be Dominique. Don't bother to answer it. Let that lazy

Onesime stir himself. But Rachel, perhaps it would be betto if you went upstairs and left Dominique and me to talk to gather."

Rachel reached the door that led to the narrow passagewa overlooking the inside courtyard just as it opened to adrai Dominique You. He was an enormous man, his shoulde stretching the seams of his coat. His thick, bushy beard wi streaked with gray. Among Alix' dainty furniture and tl little tables covered with porcelain bric-a-brac, he loomi even larger. Carefully, so as not to upset anything or to swe< anything oflf the tables with the skirts of his coat, picked his way over to the chair where she was sitting.

"Alix, cherie," he greeted her with the informality of old friend. "You are more beautiful than ever."

"Liar," Alix smiled up at him. "But I love you for it, Doi inique. It's nice to hear someone say it, even if it's m true, for my mirror tells me that I'm a fat old woman wil nine chins."

"Once a beautiful woman, always a beautiful woman Dominique replied gallantly. "There have been few in Ne Orleans to compare with you."

"Rubbish! But still I love you even if you are a liar. Te me, Dominique, you didn't come all the way to Dumaii Street in the heat of the day to tell me that I am sti beautiful." She picked up a little silver bell from the tab beside her chair and allowed its tinkle to die away befa she spoke again. "You must be thirsty."

"One of Onesime's frappes would fix that."

There was a scratch on the door and a little colored gi entered.

"Have Onesime prepare an absinthe frappe and bring here . . . and hurry." Alix clapped her hands, sending the gi scurrying from the room.

"And now," she settled back in her immense chair, shall talk about the weather, about any engaging new sc^ dal you happen to know, or destroy any reputation you wis while we wait for your drink. Then, after you have been r freshed, we'll talk about the business that has brought y* here. Did you hear about the duel Bernard de Marigny foug last night in St. Anthony's Garden with Polycarpe Rosierei

"The notices of Polycarpe's funeral were posted on tl lamp-posts today but it has been postponed until tomorro on account of the festivities."

"They'll have to close the cofl^ or he'll stink." Alix wav*

her fan languidly, "Bernard's killing off all my best customers. Penelope wept all the morning because she was madly in love with Polycarpe and he had promised her a petite maison."

"Speaking of Marigny," Bernard laughed, "have you heard the latest about our New Orleans' darling? It seems that he challenged that seven-foot giant from Tennessee to a duel, just because the clumsy idiot spilled coffee on his trousers."

"La, nol" Here at last was a bit of gossip that Alix didn't know and she was always an avid listener for something new.

"Seems the fellow from Tennessee doesn't believe in fighting duels, particularly not with Marigny who always wins, but his friend insisted that he fight. He reminded them that he had the choice of weapons, so he sent word to Marigny that he would fight him with axes, in six feet of water, in the Bayou St. John. Marigny's only five feet seven, you know. When he read the note he burst out laughing, jumped on his horse and rode to the Hotel Royale, found the Tennessean, jumped up on a chair and kissed him on both cheeks. They're the best of friends now."

Another scratching at the door announced the return of the slave and she entered, placed the tall milky drink on its silver tray beside Dominique You and left, again skipping out to the clap of Alix' hands.

"And now, Dominique, old friend, what do you want of me?"

"I'll not mince words, Alix. You sent Drum to me five years ago and had me apprentice him in Jean Lafitte's blacksmith shop. His five years are up—^he's twenty today."

"Yes, I know. I've been thinking about it. A house such as mine was no place to bring up a young mulatto whose breeches stuck out straight in front of him every time he looked at one of my girls. And the girls were taking altogether too much interest in him. I caught him in bed with one of them. But perhaps most important of all I wanted him strong with muscles on his body and what better place to procure them than in a blacksmith shop. He certainly would never have had them here, being petted and spoiled by my girls. I had to make a man of him."

"Well, that's certainly been accomplished." Dominique You took a sip of his drink, smacked his lips and nodded with approval. "Nobody can mix drinks like your On^sime."

"He should know. I taught him."

"Yes, Drum's a fine young fellow," Dominique continued, savoring his drink. "An excellent blacksmith and he knowaj how to do good ironwork. But I'm afraid his breeches still stand straight out whenever he sees a girl."

"All the better for him," Alix smiled indulgently. "Well,; you weren't going to mince words, Dominique, and I've sidetracked you onto ironwork and Drum's breeches. Just What did you want?"

"I want to buy him, Alix."

"He's not for sale. Sorry to be so blunt about it, cher ami, but there's not enough money in New Orleans to buy him. He's Rachel's son, as you know, and although Rachel is myi slave, she is also my good right hand. I couldn't live or run this place without her. She could have had her freedom any day she asked for it these last twenty years, but she wouldn't take it. I've promised her that I'll never sell Drum and I've notarized her freedom papers and Drum's—they're with my will—so neither of them will ever be sold. Now you see why I was so abrupt with you. Drum is positively not for sale."

Dominique You replaced the glass on the silver tray and nodded his head in understanding. "I'm sorry, Alix. He's a fine boy aihd I like him. Also I need him. I'm working with Mayor Girod on a special project—one that will stun the world—and I need a strong, dependable slave like Drum."

Alix pointed her finger at him and laughed. "You mear the rescue of Napoleon from St. Helene?" She had already heard of the secret plot. There was little in New Orleans that didn't eventually reach her ears.

"You know?"

" 'Tis common gossip that the big house now being bulM on the comer of Chartres and St. Louis is intended for Nan poleon."

"Yes, that's what it's for. Jean is fitting up a ship in Campeche for the voyage. If anyone can rescue Napoleon, as old pirate like Jean can do it. And do you know about the tunnel, too?"

Alix was all attention. "The tunnel? No. Tell me?"

"There's going to be a tunnel, stone-lined to keep the watei out, leading from the house to the levee. As soon as the emperor arrives, there'll be secret agents from England anc France trying to do away with him. The tunnel will be i means of escape. We want nobody to know about it, that'J

why we are using only trusted slaves to dig it. Voila! Drum! He can be trusted."

"But you'll need money too. I tell you what, Dominique. I'll contribute a thousand dollars to the cause and that will buy you two slaves to take the place of Drum. I need him here. I've sold Onesime."

"Sold Onesime? Mon Dieu, Alixl How will you get along without him? His drinks! To say nothing of his famous performances!"

"He was an attraction, Dominique. Merely was! You and I do not realize how fast time goes. When I sold Hercule and bought Onesime, that was ten years ago. There wasn't a handsomer buck in all Louisiana. He's light for a griffe. Whenever he was asked to perform, he did a wonderful job. But ten years, Dominique! Ten years, and Onesime is not as upstanding today as he used to be. Lately it's taken a diet of oysters spiced with Spanish fly to get him into condition for even an adequate performance. The other night, when Lazare LeToscan was entertaining a group of friends from upriver, he insisted that Onesime put on his famous act. . . ."

"The one you invented?"

"The same! It was my idea and every other brothel in New Orleans has copied it but they don't compare with the original."

"And what happened?"

"La!" Alix threw up her hands in mock horror. "Nothing, absolutely nothing! I was so embarrassed. All of the men started laughing and there was poor Onesime standing there at the most crucial moment, as limp as a wet rope. I had to return LeToscan's hundred dollars. Then and there I decided to sell On^ime to young Wurtzbourg whose only interest in life is liquor and. . . ." She shrugged her shoulders. "Onesime can mix wonderful drinks."

"He can, indeed." Dominique You drained the rest of his glass. "And you propose to use Drum in Onesime's place?"

"If he is adequate. I've not examined him since he was fifteen but at that time he seemed to show real promise."

"You won't be disappointed." He hesitated. "And will Drum take over all of Onesime's duties?" He lowered his head and looked at her out of the corner of his eyes, immediately regretting what he had said. His face suddenly turned a violent red. He could have bitten off his tongue for speaking.

Alix burst out laughing. "Why you old fool, Dominique. Blushing! At your age! If you mean the common gossip that's been going on for the last ten years that Onesime sleeps with me. Eh?"

He nodded his head sheepishly.

"Well—" Alix was laughing so hard she had to take her handkerchief to wipe her eyes. "I've never denied it. Neverl On the other hand I've never admitted it. Never! You see, old friend," she leaned forward and put one heavily ringed hand on You's knee, "I have no reputation to lose. If New Orleans accused Madame de Marigny of sleeping with het mulatto slave, the very heavens themselves would fall. What a scandal! But if New Orleans accuses Madame Alix of sleeping with her mulatto, it only causes all of New Orleans to talk about me. And when a group of young bloods get together and start talking about me, the next thing they know is that they are all heading for my house. It's good business, you see. So I have never denied it or admitted it. But lU tell you, in strictest confidence, that I do not intend to make a bedmate of Drum. When you get as old and as fat as 1 am, Dominique, the only satisfactory bed companions are a box of French chocolates, a book and one's memories." Sh sighed and patted his knee.

He sighed in agreement. "It's hell getting old, Alix. I rdi member back in the days when Jean and Pierre were ad Barataria. Every likely wench on every ship we capturec sooner or later came to my bed. Now. , . ." He patted ha hand and stood up. "I'll leave, Alix. Don't bother to have mc shown out. I know the way after these many years."