Ed Piacentino, Seeds of Rebellion in Plantation Fiction: Victor Séjour's "The Mulatto"

"Three years had passed since the death of the virtuous Zelia. For a time, Alfred was in extreme torment; by day, he seemed to see a vengeful hand descending toward his head; he trembled at night because the darkness brought him hideous, frightful dreams. Soon, however, he banished from his thoughts both the painful memory of the martyr and the terrible threat Georges had made; he married and became a father. . . . Oh! how gratified he felt, when he was told that his prayers were answered, he who had humbly kissed the church floor each evening, beseeching the Virgin of Sorrows to grant him a son.

"For Georges also, there was happiness in this child's arrival. For if he had hoped for three years without attempting to strike back at his wife's executioner; if he had lain sleepless so many nights, with fury in his heart and a hand on his dagger, it was because he was waiting for Alfred to find himself, like Georges, with a wife and a son. It was because he wished to kill him only when dear and precious bonds linked him to this world. . . . Georges had always maintained close ties with one of Alfred's slaves; indeed, he visited him each week; and that slave had never given Georges any news more important than that of the newborn's arrival. . . . He immediately set out for the house of his enemy. On his way he met a negress who was bringing a cup of broth to Madame Alfred; he stopped her, exchanged a few insignificant words, and went on. . . . After many difficulties, he managed to slip his way, like a snake, into Alfred's rooms; once there, hidden in the space between the bed and the wall, he awaited his master. . . . A moment later, Alfred entered the room, humming a tune; he opened his secretary and took out a superb jewel box, set with diamonds, that he had promised his wife, should she give him a son; but, filled with joy and happiness, he sat down and put his head between his hands, like a man who can't believe his unexpected good fortune. Then, on raising his head, he saw before him a kind of motionless shadow, with arms crossed on its breast and two burning eyes that possessed all the ferocity of a tiger preparing to tear its prey to pieces. Alfred made a motion to stand, but a powerful arm held him down in his chair.

" 'What do you want with me,' Alfred whispered, in a trembling voice. "'To compliment you on the birth of your child,' answered a voice that seemed to emerge from the tomb.

"Alfred shook from head to toe, his hair stood on end, and a cold sweat poured over his limbs.

" 'I don't know you,' Alfred muttered weakly. . . .

" 'Georges is the name.'

" 'You. . .

" 'You thought I was dead, I suppose,' said the mulatto with a convulsive laugh.

" 'Help . . . help,' cried Alfred.

" 'Who will help you,' rejoined the mulatto . . . haven't you dismissed your servants, haven't you closed your doors, to be alone with your wife . . . so you see, your cries are useless . . . you should commend your soul to God.'

" Alfred had begun to rise from his chair, but at these last words he fell back, pale and trembling.

" 'Oh! have pity, Georges ... don't kill me, not today.'

"Georges shrugged his shoulders. 'Master, isn't it horrible to die when you're happy; to lie down in the grave at the moment you see your fondest dreams coming true . . . oh! it's horrible, isn't it,' said the mulatto with an infernal laugh....

" 'Mercy, Georges. . .

" 'And yet,' he continued, 'such is your destiny . . . you shall die today, this hour, this minute, without giving your wife your last farewell. . . " 'Have pity . . . pity. . .'

" 'Without kissing your newborn son a second time. . .

" 'Oh! mercy . . . mercy.'

" 'I think my vengeance is worthy of your own . . . I would have sold my soul to the Devil, had he promised me this moment.'

" 'Oh! mercy ... please take pity on me,' said Alfred, throwing himself at the feet of the mulatto.

" Georges shrugged his shoulders and raised his axe.

" 'Oh! one more hour of life!'

" 'To embrace your wife, is that it?'

" 'One minute....'

" 'To see your son again, right?'

" 'Oh! have pity....'

" 'You might as well plead with the starving tiger to let go his prey.'

" 'In God's name, Georges.'

" 'I don't believe in that any longer.'

" 'In the name of your father....'

" At this, Georges's fury subsided.

" 'My father . . . my father,' repeated the mulatto, tears in his eyes. `Do you know him . . . oh! tell me his name. . . . What's his name . . . oh! tell me, tell me his name . . . I'll pardon you . . . I'll bless you.'

"And the mulatto nearly fell on his knees before his master. But suddenly, sharp cries were heard...

" 'Good heavens ... that's my wife's voice,' cried Alfred, dashing toward the sounds. . . .

"As if he were coming back to his senses, the mulatto remembered that he had come to the house of his master, not to learn the name of his father, but to settle accounts with him for his wife's blood. Holding Alfred back, he told him with a hideous grin: 'Hold on, master; it's nothing.'

" 'Jesus and Mary ... don't you hear her calling for help.'

" 'It's nothing, I tell you.'

" 'Let me go ... let me go ... it's my wife's voice.'

" 'No, it's the gasps of a dying woman.'

" 'Wretch, you're lying... .'

" 'I poisoned her....'

" 'Oh!'

" 'Do you hear those cries...they're hers.'

" The Devil....'

" 'Do you hear those screams ... they're hers.'

" 'A curse....'

"During all this time, Alfred had been trying to shake free of the mulatto's grip; but he held him fast, tighter and tighter. As he did, his head rose higher, his heart beat fiercely, he steadied himself for his awful task.

" 'Alfred ... help ... water ... I'm suffocating,' shouted a woman, as she threw herself into the middle of the room. She was pale and disheveled, her eyes were starting out of her head, her hair was in wild disarray.

" 'Alfred, Alfred . . . for heaven's sake, help me . . . some water . . . I need water ... my blood is boiling ... my heart is twitching ... oh! water, water. . .

"Alfred struggled mightily to help her, but Georges held him fast with an iron hand. Laughing like one of the damned, he cried out: 'No, master . . . I'm afraid not . . . I want your wife to die ... right there. . . before your eyes . . . right in front of you . . . do you understand, master; right in front of you, asking you for water, for air, while you can do nothing to help her.'

" 'Damnation . . . may you be damned,' howled Alfred, as he struggled like a madman.

" 'You can curse and blaspheme all you want,' answered the mulatto . . . 'this is the way it's going to be. . .'

" 'Alfred,' the dying woman moaned again, 'good-bye . . . good-bye . I'm dying. . .

" 'Look well,' responded the mulatto, still laughing. . . . 'Look . . . she's gasping . . . goodness! a single drop of this water would restore her to life.' He showed him a small vial.

" 'My entire fortune for that drop of water. ...' cried Alfred.

" 'Have you gone mad, master. . .'

" 'Ah! that water ... that water ... don't you see she's dying . give it to me ... please give it to me.. .'

" 'Here . ..' and the mulatto flung the vial against the wall.

" 'Accursed,' screamed Alfred, seizing Georges by the neck. 'Oh! my entire life, my soul, for a dagger. . .'

" Georges released Alfred's hands.

" 'Now that she's dead, it's your turn, master,' he said as he lifted his axe.

" 'Strike, executioner . . . strike . . . after poisoning her, you might as well kill your own fa—.' The ax fell, and Alfred's head rolled across the floor, but, as it rolled, the head distinctly pronounced the final syllable, '-ther ... ' Georges at first believed he had misheard, but the word father, like a funeral knell, rang in his ears. To be certain, he opened the fateful pouch. . . . 'Ah!' he cried out, 'I'm cursed. . . .' An explosion was heard; and the next day, near the corpse of Alfred, was discovered the corpse of the unhappy Georges...."