"Madame, those Southerons are daring above everything. I have met them. Their men are fighters, and they will be well officered."

Well officered! She thought of Kenneth McVeigh, he would be one of them; yes, she supposed that was one thing he could do--fight; a thing requiring brute strength, brute courage!

"So!" said the Countess Biron, who seldom was acquainted with the causes of any wars outside those of court circles, "this means that if the Northern States should retaliate and conquer, all the slaves would be free?"

"Not at all, Countess. The North does not interfere with slavery where it exists, only protests against its extension to greater territory."

"Oh! Well; I understood it had something to do with the Africans. That clever young Delaven devoted an entire hour to my enlightenment yesterday. And my poor friend, Madame McVeigh, you remember her, Judithe? She is in the Carolinas. I tremble to think of her position now; an army of slaves surrounding them, and, of course, only awaiting the opportunity for insurrection."

"And Louisiana seceded two months ago," said the Marquise, and then smiled. "You will think me a mercenary creature," she declared, "but I have property in New Orleans which I have never seen, and I am wondering whether its value will rise or fall because of the proposed change of government."

"You have never seen it?"

"No; it was a purchase made by my husband from some home-sick relative, who had thought to remain there, but could not live away from France. I have promised myself to visit it some day. It would be exceedingly difficult to do so now, I suppose, but how much more spirited a journey it would be; for each side will have vessels on guard all along the coast, will they not?"

"There will at least be enough to deter most ladies from taking adventurous pilgrimages in that direction. I shall not advise you to go unless under military escort, Marquise."

"I shall notify you, General, when my preparations are made; in the meantime here is your rose; and would not my new yacht do for the journey?"

So, jesting and questioning, she accepted his arm and made the circle of the rooms. Everywhere they heard fragments of the same topic.

Americans were there from both sections. She saw a pretty woman from Alabama nod and smile, but put her hands behind her when a hitherto friendly New Yorker gave her greeting.

"We women can't do much to help," she declared, in those soft tones of the South, "but we can encourage our boys by being p.r.o.nounced in our sympathies. I certainly shall not shake hands with a Northerner who may march with the enemy against our men; how can I?"

"Suppose we talk it over and try to find a way," he suggested. Then they both smiled and pa.s.sed on together. Judithe de Caron found herself watching them with a little ache in her heart. She could see they were almost, if not quite, lovers; yet all their hopes were centered on opposite victories. How many--many such cases there must be!

Before spring had merged into summer, a lady, veiled, and giving no name, was announced to the Marquise. Rather surprised at the mysterious call, she entered the reception room, and was again surprised when the lifted veil disclosed the handsome face of the octoroon, Kora.

She had lost some of her brilliant color, and her expression was more settled, it had less of the b.u.t.terfly brightness.

"You see, Madame, I have at last taken you at your word."

The Marquise, who was carefully noting the alteration in her, bowed, but made no remark. The face of the octoroon showed uncertainty.

"Perhaps--perhaps I have waited too long," she said, and half rose.

"No, no; you did right to come. I expected you--yes, really! Now be seated and tell me what it is."

"First, that you were a prophetess, Madame," and the full lips smiled without merriment. "I am left alone, now that I have neither money nor the attraction for the others. He only followed the crowd--to me, and away from me!"

"Well?"

"Well, it is not about _that_ I come! But, Madame, I am going to America; not to teach, as you advised, but I see now a way in which I can really help."

"Help whom?"

Her visitor regarded her with astonishment; was it possible that she, the woman whose words had aroused the first pride of race in her, the first thought of her people unlinked with shame! That she had so soon forgotten? Had she remembered the pupil, but failed to recall the lesson taught?

"You have probably forgotten the one brief conversation with which you honored me, Madame. But I mean the people we discussed then--my people."

"You mean the colored people."

"Certainly, Madame."

"But you are more white than colored."

"Oh, yes; that is true, but the white blood would not count in America if it were known there was one drop of black blood in my mother. But no one need know it; I go from France, I will speak only French, and if you would only help me a little."

She grew prettier in her eagerness, and her eyes brightened. The Marquise smiled at the change enthusiasm made.

"You must tell me the object for which you go."

"It is the war, Madame; in time this war must free the colored folks; it is talked of already; it is said the North will put colored soldiers in the field; that will be the little, thin edge of the wedge, and if I could only get there, if you would help me to some position, or a recommendation to people in New Orleans; any way so that people would not ask questions or be curious about me--if you would only do that madame!"

"But what will you do when there?"

The girl glanced about the room and spoke more softly.

"I am trusting you, Madame, without asking who you side with in our war, but even if you are against us I--I trust you! They tell me the South is the strongest. They have been getting ready for this a long time. The North will need agents in the South. I have learned some things here--people talk so much. I am going to Washington. From there I will go south. No one will know me in New Orleans. I will change my name, and I promise not to bring discredit on any recommendation you may give me."

"It is a plan filled with difficulties and dangers. What has moved you to contemplate such sacrifices?"

"You, Madame!" The Marquise flushed slightly. "From the time you talked to me I wanted to do something, be something better. But, you know, it seemed no use; there was no need of me anywhere but in Paris.

That is all over. I can go now, and I have some information worth taking to the Federal government. The South has commissioners here now. I have learned all they have accomplished, and the people they have interested, so if I had a little help--"

"You shall have it!" declared the Marquise. "I have been dying of ennui. Your plan is a cure for me--better than a room full of courtiers! But if I give you letters it must be to my lawyers in New Orleans--clever, shrewd men--and I should have to trust you entirely, remember."

"I shall not forget, Madame."

"Very good; come tomorrow. What can you do about an establishment such as mine? Ladies maid? Housekeeper? Governess?"

"Any of those; but only governess to very small children."

"Come tomorrow. I shall have planned something by then. I have an engagement in a few minutes, and have no more time today. By the way, have you ever been in Georgia or South Carolina?"

Kora hesitated, and then said: "Yes, Madame."

"Have you any objection to going back there?"

The octoroon looked at her in a startled, suspicious way.

"I hesitate to reply to that, Madame, for reasons! I don't mind telling you, though, that there is one place in America where I might be claimed, if they knew me. I am not anxious to visit that place."

"Naturally! Tomorrow at eleven I will see you, and you can tell me all about it. If I am to act as your protectress I must know all you can tell me--_all_! It is the only way. I like the mystery and intrigue of the whole affair. It promises new sensations. I will help you show that government that you are willing to help your people. Come tomorrow."

A few days later the Marquise set her new amus.e.m.e.nt on foot by bidding adieu to a demure, dark eyed, handsome girl, who was garbed most sedately, and whose letters of introduction p.r.o.nounced her--oh, sentiment or irony of women--Madame Louise Trouvelot, an attache of the Caron establishment, commissioned by the Marquise to inspect the dwellings on the Caron estate in New Orleans, and report as to whether any one of them would be suitable for a residence should the owner desire to visit the city. If none should prove so, Louise Trouvelot, who comprehended entirely the needs of the Marquise, was further commissioned to look up such a residence with a view to purchase, and communicate with the Marquise and with her American lawyers, who were to give a.s.sistance to Louise Trouvelot in several business matters, especially relating to her quest.