Le Jour de l'An was a full day with me. Though I did not go to early mass with the family, I left the house when they did and had a fast gallop on Fatima's back through the gray dawn down to the boat, for there were still a few finishing touches to be put to my decorations and arrangements for mademoiselle's comfort, and I was in feverish haste that all should be in readiness. Captain Clarke and I spent the day in visits of ceremony made at the houses where we had been so often and so kindly entertained during our stay. They were really farewell visits, though for prudential reasons we said nothing of our approaching departure. At every house we were served with croquecignolles and wine or ratafia by the young maidens and their mothers, and we were so hospitably urged to eat and drink that had we done anything more than make the merest pretense for the sake of good fellowship we would have been in no condition for the dance in the evening.
Frenchmen know better how to manage their drinking than do we Anglo-Saxons. I know not how they do it, but I know not a young fellow appeared at the governor's house in the evening who had apparently taken more than was good for him; and yet had our Philadelphia lads been through the ordeal of proffered glasses all day long, I warrant there would not have been a corporal's guard able to line up in good order at the governor's ball. But all these young St. Louis Frenchmen were out in fine feather, and carrying themselves grandly, eyes bright and heads steady, ready to lead out to the governor's table the belles of St. Louis, dazzling in brocades and feathers, lace, and powder and black patches.
It was a goodly feast, ragout and roast fowl and venison pasties, and cakes and tarts and rich conserves making the tables groan; but the crowning moment was when the governor's stately butler brought in the bean-cake (almost as much as he could carry) and set it down before the governor. 'Twas a breathless silence as the governor cut each slice and sent it first to the maiden nearest him and then to the next in order. I was not in the least surprised when one of the four beans fell to mademoiselle's lot; I would have been surprised if it had not. There was a burst of ringing cheers, led by Josef Papin, when the lucky slice came to her, and I thought, "He knows he will be chosen king," and smiled with bitterness at the thought.
I had not seen mademoiselle all day. As I glanced at her now, smiling and coloring with pleasure at the cheers that betokened her popularity, it flashed into my mind that she would reign a queen indeed when she came into her own in France, for I was very sure there were no court ladies could compare with her for beauty and grace.
The governor himself crowned the four queens, and then they had to retire into the background for a space while their elders danced the first minuet, in which the governor led out Madame Chouteau in stately measure. But after that formal opening of the ball the young people had it all their own way, and the four queens queened it royally each with a flock of suitors around her. I said to myself proudly, "I will not hang on to any of their trains." There was no possible doubt but that mademoiselle would choose Josef Papin (since the chevalier was not there), and while I would have liked it well if one of the others had chosen me, just to show mademoiselle that all did not scorn me, I would not seem to sue for favors. So I attached myself to Mademoiselle Chouteau (who had not been so lucky as to draw a bean); and she being in the sauciest mood (and looking exceeding pretty), and I feeling that I was at least as well dressed as any other man (since I had on my plum-colored velvets and my finest lace), and therefore at my ease, we made ourselves so entertaining to each other that I began in my heart to feel a little regret that this was to be my last ball with her.
I would not so much as look at mademoiselle, whose silvery laugh sometimes floated to my ears, for she had treated me shamefully of late, and, as far as I could see, without the least reason. Just once I caught her eye, however. I do not know how it happened, but there was a moment of almost silence in the crowded room. The violins were not playing, no one was dancing, and for one fleeting moment, every one, or nearly every one, seemed to have ceased talking. Into this strange silence, through the open windows, there floated the clear call of the whippoorwill,—only one, for the buzz and clamor and clatter of many voices surged up again instantly, and the violins began to scrape and screech themselves into tune, and no one seemed to have noticed either the silence or the whippoorwill. But I could not for the life of me help one swift glance toward mademoiselle, and I met her eyes seeking mine in a look of startled alarm that was almost terror. I held her glance long enough to say to her with my eyes, "Do not be afraid; I will see what it is," and I had the satisfaction of seeing, before she turned away, that she understood and was reassured.
A few minutes later I slipped outside. I was not entirely at ease about that call, it had meant so much once. And I was not at all sure of the chevalier. A ball like this, with every one off guard, would be just his opportunity. Outside there was a motley throng of negroes, river-men, and Indians, hanging around to get glimpses of the dancers and the guests coming and going. The yard was brightly lighted in spots by flaming lightwood torches, which left the other parts in deepest gloom. I noticed among the throng a little group of mummers, such as had been at Dr. Saugrain's the night before in hideous masks. This did not at first seem strange to me, but afterward I thought it must be unusual, for they belonged peculiarly to New Year's eve.
Leaning against a post that held a lightwood torch, a little withdrawn from the others, in solitary dignity, stood Black Hawk. I knew if there had been anything unusual in the whippoorwill cry he would know it. I sauntered up to him carelessly (for if there were spies about, I did not want to arouse suspicion), and stopped where the light fell full on me, for I knew well the value of impressing Black Hawk with the splendor of my dress. For the benefit of any possible listener, I told him that the governor's halls were hot and I must needs get a draft of cold air before I could go back to my dancing. Then I talked to him of Daniel Boone, for he had been with us on our trip to his home, and I knew his admiration for that wonderful man. His only responses were a series of grunts, but they were amiable ones (I think the old savage rather liked me), and as I talked I gradually drew nearer. When I was quite close to him, I said suddenly, in a low tone:
"Does the Great Chief of the Sacs think there are any White Wolves or Red Dogs about to-night?"
I saw a sudden glitter in his eye, but that was the only response except the invariable "Ugh!" Then I said again in the same low tone: