Cape Francois.
The ball announced by the admiral exceeded all expectations and we are still all extacy. Boats, covered with carpets, conveyed the company from the shore to the vessel, which was anchored about half a mile from the land, and on entering the ball room a fairy palace presented itself to the view. The decks were floored in; a roof of canvas was suspended over the whole length of the vessel, which reached the floor on each side, and formed a beautiful apartment. Innumerable lustres of chrystal and wreaths of natural flowers ornamented the ceiling; and rose and orange-trees, in full blossom, ranged round the room, filled the air with fragrance. The seats were elevated, and separated from the part appropriated to dancing, by a light balustrade. A gallery for the musicians was placed round the main-mast, and the whole presented to the eye an elegant saloon, raised by magic in a wilderness of sweets. Clara and myself, accompanied by her husband and Major B——, were among the first who arrived. Never had I beheld her so interesting. A robe of white crape shewed to advantage the contours of her elegant person. Her arms and bosom were bare; her black hair, fastened on the top with a brilliant comb, was ornamented by a rose which seemed to have been thrown there by accident.
We were presented to the admiral, who appeared struck by the figure of Clara, and was saying some very flattering things, when a flourish of martial music announced the arrival of the General in chief. The admiral hastened to meet him, and they walked round the room together.
When the dances began the general leaned against the orchestra opposite Clara. Her eyes met his. She bent them to the ground, raised them timidly and found those of the general fixed on her: a glow of crimson suffused itself over her face and bosom. I observed her attentively and knew it was the flush of triumph! She declined dancing, but when the walses began she was led out. Those who have not seen Clara walse know not half her charms. There is a physiognomy in her form! every motion is full of soul. The gracefulness of her arms is unequalled, and she is lighter than gossamer.
The eyes of the general dwelt on her alone, and I heard him inquire of several who she was.
The walse finished, she walked round the room leaning on the arm of Major B——. The general followed, and meeting her husband, asked (pointing to Clara) if he knew the name of that lady. Madame St. Louis, was the reply. I thought she was an American said the general. So she is, replied St. Louis, but her husband is a Frenchman. That's true, added the general, but they say he is a d——d jealous fool, is he here? He has the honour of answering you, said St. Louis. The general was embarrassed for a moment, but recovering himself said, I am not surprised at your being jealous, for she is a charming creature. And he continued uttering so many flattering things that St. Louis was in the best humour imaginable. When Clara heard the story, she laughed, and, I saw, was delighted with a conquest she now considered assured.
When she sat down, Major B—— presented the General to her, and his pointed attention rendered her the object of universal admiration. He retired at midnight: the ball continued. An elegant collation was served up, and at sunrise we returned home!
The admiral is a very agreeable man, and I would prefer him, as a lover, to any of his officers, though he is sixty years old. His manners are affable and perfectly elegant; his figure graceful and dignified, and his conversation sprightly. He joined the dance at the request of a lady, with all the spirit of youth, and appeared to enjoy the pleasure which his charming fête diffused.
He told Clara that he would twine a wreath of myrtle to crown her, for she had vanquished the General. She replied, that she would mingle it with laurel, and lay it at his feet for having, by preserving the Cape, given her an opportunity of making the conquest.
Nothing is heard of but balls and parties. Monsieur D'Or gives a concert every Thursday; the General in chief every Sunday: so that from having had no amusement we are in danger of falling into the other extreme, and of being satiated with pleasure.