Ghost Stories of Old New Orleans

Le Néant

('893) Le Neant Aubevie Brou walked slowly down Royal street on a night late in May, 1893. He crossed Esplanade and made his way to his own door, in the middle of the square. His twin sister, Edvige, a maiden lady of fifty-six, was dozing by the window in her cretonne-covered chair. Auguste, the tomcat, dozed beside her, plump and sleek and tiger-striped. Edvige roused with a faint snort as her brother entered. Auguste yawned and stretched and blinked an eye in welcome. The china clock on the mantel struck one crisp, accusing note. "Mon Dieu!" the lady exclaimed, clutching at the black lace shawl which draped her ample shoulders. "How yovi frightened me, Aubevie! Is it then so late?" "Monsieur almost managed it tonight," her brother replied, seating himself with a sigh and mopping his damp forehead. "Twenty of the guests arrived—I saw them myself. And then, as usual, some meddlers sent for the police. I am of a disgust." "Ah, poor Monsieur!" nodded Edvige, adjusting the artificial brown ringlets which adorned her broad brow. "It must be a year now, and never a moment's rest. He must be of a weariness. Every day I pray for his success—he should have quiet rest by now, the poor man." "You say truly 'the poor man.' " Aubevie sighed, blowing his nose. "Twenty friends—only five more to come. Monsieur waiting, the cards waiting—and then only the small word, the imperceptible sign—and a lifetime's misery wiped away. But no, it is too much to expect!" "The terrible police!" moaned Edvige, struggling with her 52 Le Neant 53 great fan and dropping it in the midst of Augusta's round stomach. "Mon pauvre enfant—I am so clumsy! Come, come, Auguste, mon petit chou, you are not quite killed. In a moment you shall have a saucer of crevettes. Tell me, Aubevie, what happened?" "Monsieur was summoning his guests—the twenty-five who were at that first astounding game. They were coming through the dark, from wherever they are—I counted them, twenty of them—and Monsieur waiting at the window with his lighted candle, his heart calling and crying to the girl he adored—ah, poor Monsieur!" "And you spoke of the police—" "Nom de Dieu, oui! Pardonnez-moi, Edvige, but my tongue is full of fury, as well as my heart. The police came, stamping and shouting and banging with a stick—you know how they do." "Non, Aubevie, I never have seen the police bang with a stick—naturally. But, all the same, it is a pity that poor Monsieur Tounoir cannot be let alone, even when he has been dead more than a year. It would seem that the police could be on a better business." "Humph—they understand nothing of these more delicate matters. Monsieur will have to be trying again and again. And if someone desires to rent the house, it will make the long and dreary postponement." "No one will desire to rent the house, mon frere," soothed Edvige. "It is far too big and much too dirty by this time. You have never even had it dusted. I always have said you should." "Ah," grunted Aubevie hopefully. "Doubtless . . . doubtless ." Truly, the night had seen strange doings. The day before had been Sunday, and there had been a neighborhood dancing party at a house on Royal street, between Sainte-Ann and Orleans. Shortly after midnight some of the guests were on their way home, passing the massive old mansion known as the Lalaurie house, at the uptown river corner of Royal and Hospital (now Governor Nicholls). One of them glanced upwards and saw the tall white 54 Ghost Stories of Old New Orleans figure of a man standing in one of the windows on the second floor, with a lighted candle in his hand. As the rest of the party stared, white shapes began to gather on the balcony, and the sound of hurrying feet came from within the house. The woman who saw the figure screamed, as something clutched her arm and jostled her off the banquette. The air seemed to move with rushing forms, although nothing could be seen on the ground floor. The windows were close-shuttered, and the great front door was guarded by tall iron gates. "Oh!" cried another of the ladies. "There's somebody in the haunted house! I...