Free The Exiles by Gilbert Morris

Veronique in the nursery.
    “I never saw it rain so hard, Mama,” Chantel said.
    “I don’t believe I ever have either. And I expect New Orleans will be flooded. It’s so low there.”
    “But the water won’t come in here, will it, Mama?”
    With all the confidence she could muster Aimee replied, “Of course not. It’ll stop raining, and the water will go down. It goes down very quickly. Now, let’s give Veronique her bath.”
    After the bathing was done, Chantel went out and stood on the porch. The sound of water cascading off the house and striking the ground was louder than she had ever heard it. Thunder rolled almost constantly, and the sky was lit up with blinding white flashes. She was frightened by the power of the elements and quickly turned around and went back inside. She closed the door, muting the sound, but still the storm was like a beast prowling around. Chantel went to the nursery to sit beside her mama, who was rocking Veronique.
    Simon nodded with relief. “You made the right decision, Miz Fontaine. We’ve got to get out of this place. The water’s almost up to the level of the house.”
    “It’s going to ruin our beautiful home.”
    “We can work on it after the water goes down, but now let’s get out of here. Everybody else is all ready.”
    Aimee had finally acknowledged the inevitable. Ever since Simon’s first warning, the rains had fallen steadily, though for a time they seemed to have stopped. Now the rain was slowing, but all around the big house a sheet of water continued to rise. The slave quarters were already flooded, and there was no other choice.
    “Come along, Chantel.”
    “Where are we going, Mama?”
    “We’re going over to the Bascom Plantation. Mrs. Bascom sent word that we could stay there until the waters go down. Hurry now.”
    Chantel gathered her treasures together, including her journal and the doll that her father had given her, and placed them in a canvas sack. She went outside to the barn. Brutus had already saddled Lady, and Chantel stepped into the saddle and tied her sack around the saddle horn.
    Brutus held the lines and said, “I tole you bad luck was comin’ when dem two birds came down.” He handed the reins to Chantel and said, “You be keerful now.” Then he turned and hurried back to three wagons that had been loaded with the slaves and their possessions.
    Simon Bientot came to greet Aimee as she came out of the house holding Veronique. “You ride with Tallboy. He’s a good, steady driver, ma’am.”
    “Is everybody ready?”
    “Yes, ma’am. Come along.” Bientot walked with her to the wagon where a tall, thin young man pulled his hat off and nodded. “How do, Miz Fontaine.”
    “Hello, Tallboy.” Aimee got into the wagon and settled back with Veronique in her arms, as Tallboy put on his hat and looked to the overseer.
    Bientot nodded and climbed into the wagon, saying, “All right, let’s find some dry ground.”
    The wagons moved through the floodwaters in a small procession. Chantel touched Lady with her heels, and the mare obediently moved forward. She guided the mare until she was even with her mother and said, “Do you want me to ride with you and help with Veronique?”
    “No, I can take care of her. You be careful though.”
    “I’m afraid, Mama!”
    “It’s all right,” Aimee said and smiled. She extended her hand, and Chantel reached down and took it. “We’ll be fine. You’ll see.”
    At that moment something touched Chantel. She held on to her mother’s hand until the wagon dropped into a pothole, and they were separated. Chantel steadied Lady and moved on ahead to ride along with Bientot.
    “It’ll be all right, Miss Chantel. You sure you don’t want to ride in the wagon with me?”
    “No, I want to ride Lady. The rain has stopped, so I’ll be fine.”
    “All right. You stick close to the wagon though.”
    The journey was slow, for Bientot was cautious. They followed the line of the road until finally