Island Beneath the Sea by Isabel Allende Page B

plums and presented in the blue flames of blazing brandy. Valmorain had not yet finished digging among the minuscule bones of his bird when the remarkable majordomo came to him and whispered that his wife was indisposed. At the same moment another servant was giving the same message to the hostess, who made a sign to Valmorain from the other side of the table. Both got up without attracting attention amid the hubbub of voices and noise of silver against porcelain, and went up to the second floor.
    Eugenia was green, and the room stank of vomit and excrement. The Intendant’s wife suggested that Eugenia be examined by Dr. Parmentier, who fortunately was in the dining hall, and immediately the slave at the door ran to look for him. The physician, some forty years old, small, slim, with nearly feminine features, was the homme de confiance of the grands blancs of Le Cap for his discretion and professional skill, although his methods were not the most orthodox; he preferred the herbarium of the poor in place of the purges, bloodletting, enemas, poultices, and fantasized remedies of European medicine. Parmentier had succeeded in discrediting the elixir of lizard sprinkled with gold dust, which had the reputation of curing the yellow fever of the wealthy—others could not afford it. He had been able to prove that the brew was so toxic that if the patient survived the dread fever, mal de Siam , he would die of the poison. He did not have to be begged to go up and see Madame Valmorain, at least he would be able to draw a breath of air that wasn’t as thick as that in the dining hall. He found Eugenia weak among the pillows of her bed and proceeded to examine her while Tété removed the basins and rags she had used to cleanse her mistress.
    â€œWe have traveled three days to attend tomorrow’s event, and look at the state my wife is in,” Valmorain commented from the doorway, holding a handkerchief to his nose.
    â€œMadame will not be able to attend the execution, she must rest for one or two weeks,” stated Parmentier.
    â€œIs it her nerves again?” her husband asked, irritated.
    â€œShe needs to rest in order to avoid complications. She’s pregnant,” the doctor said, covering Eugenia with the sheet.
    â€œA son!” exclaimed Valmorain, stepping forward to caress his wife’s inert hands. “We will stay here as long as you say, Doctor. I will rent a house so we do not impose upon the Intendant and his kind wife.”
    When she heard that, Eugenia opened her eyes and sat up with unexpected energy.
    â€œWe must leave this minute!” she shrieked.
    â€œImpossible, ma chérie , you cannot travel under these conditions. After the execution, Cambray will take the slaves to Saint-Lazare, and you and I will stay here and make you well.”
    â€œTété, help me dress!” she cried, throwing off the sheet.
    Toulouse tried to hold her, but she gave him a hefty push and with flames in her eyes demanded they flee immediately, Macandal’s armies were already on the march to rescue the Maroons from the jail and take vengeance on the whites. Her husband begged her to lower her voice so she not be heard in the rest of the house, but she continued to howl. The Intendant came up to see what was happening and found his guest half naked, struggling with her husband. Dr. Parmentier took a flask from his kit, and among the three men they forced Eugenia to swallow a dose of laudanum that would lay out a buccaneer. Sixteen hours later the scent of scorched flesh blowing in through the window woke Eugenia Valmorain. Her shift and the bed were bloody. So ended the illusion of the first son. And so Tété was saved from seeing the execution of the prisoners, who like Macandal perished in flames.

The Madwoman of the Plantation
    S even years later, in a blazing August battered by hurricanes, Eugenia Valmorain gave birth to her first living child, following a series of