Chapter Two: Rosehill Plantation
"Jeepers!" Honey exclaimed, pushing her bangs back from her forehead. "It's just as hot as Mrs. de Villemont warned."
"It sure is," Diana agreed. "My hair is going to look a fright!" The prettiest of the three girls, with long blue-black hair and remarkable violet eyes, Di was more conscious of her looks than her friends. Frowning, she fanned herself with one hand and looked around. "Do you see our ride yet?"
The Bob-Whites stood together by the curb just outside the baggage claim area of the New Orleans International Airport. A small cluster of suitcases and garment bags was piled at their feet.
"Mrs. de Villemont said she'd be sending a white van for us," Jim said, leaning out slightly to see over the heads of the others. "Say, look at all these cars! Maybe our driver is waiting in line somewhere way back there."
"Well, I'm just dying of thirst," Trixie declared. "Since it looks like we have a few minutes, I'm going to go back in and buy a soda. Does anyone else want anything?"
"I could use something," Brian admitted. "It's been awhile since we had our refreshments on the plane. Why don't you girls go find something for all of us? We'll stay here and watch the luggage, and if our ride shows up soon, we can load the van while we wait for you to get back."
Trixie flashed her always practical big brother a warm smile. "I don't even mind playing errand girl, since it will get me out of this heat for awhile," she told him.
Inside, the airport was almost as crowded as it was outside. Travelers rushed to and fro, hurrying to meet their planes or collect their baggage. Honey, Trixie, and Di strolled quickly to a set of escalators and rode the moving staircase up to the main floor of the large building.
"If I remember right, I think we came from that direction," Honey said, pointing to her right. "And I know we passed a little snack stand."
"Are you sure?" Trixie asked, her brow furrowed. "I thought we came from that direction." She waved her hand to the left.
The two girls stared at one another for a moment before dissolving into giggles. Di laughed with them, too, shaking her head in mock exasperation. "You two could get lost in a paper bag! Honey's right this time, Trix. This way. See? There's that cute little gift shop we passed. Boy, you'd think we hadn't been here in years and it's been only about half an hour!"
"We'd better not dawdle," Honey warned. "If the van has arrived, we don't want to make our driver wait too long, and besides, the boys are probably melting out there."
They bought eight colas at the small stand, Honey reminding Trixie to purchase one for the driver, grabbed a few napkins and straws, and hurried back toward the baggage claim area.
"Oh!" Trixie exclaimed. "Look at that poster! The Mardi Gras Museum. Maybe we'll have time to visit it. I know Mart was disappointed that we missed the Mardi Gras celebrations by a few weeks."
"You should take time to visit it, ma chere."
Startled, Trixie turned at the sound of the voice. An older gentleman with a friendly smile nodded to her. Dressed in a white suit and light blue shirt, Trixie thought he looked cool and comfortable. "The Mardi Gras Museum, it is small, but it is well worth the time, especially for the non-locals such as yourself."
Trixie grinned at him. "Do you live here in New Orleans?" she asked politely.
"Ah, no, but nearby. I am here to fetch my daughter and her children. They are coming for a visit. I live out off old River Road."
"River Road!" Honey exclaimed. "That's where we're going to stay. Have you ever heard of Rosehill Plantation?"
The man's eyes widened considerably. "Of course! Rosehill Plantation is a very old, well-known home. It has belonged to the same family since before the Civil War."
Honey nodded. "Yes. We are guests of Mrs. Angelique de Villemont. She and my mother are dear friends."
The gentleman regarded them soberly for a moment. "I hope you do enjoy your visit, mes enfants. I hope the ghost of Andre du Pree does not disturb you!"
"Ghost!" all three girls exclaimed at once; Trixie with amazement, Honey with notable disbelief, and Di with a touch of fear.
The stranger sighed elaborately. "Yes. It is a sad tale, but one I am afraid I do not have time to share with you. I am sure you will learn all about it very soon, in any case. Do not be afraid, ma petite," he added, looking directly at Diana. "Andre du Pree's spirit is known to make a nuisance of himself, but he has not hurt anyone that I have ever heard."
"Well!" Honey exclaimed as the man rushed off. "How... provoking!"
Di glanced about her and shivered. "Do you really think that the Rosehill Plantation is haunted?"
"Oh, probably not," Trixie said reassuringly, seeing her friend's distress. "You know how it is with really old houses. There's always some kind of legend about them. Why, I'll bet in another hundred years, people will be saying the Manor House has its own resident spook."
Honey sent Trixie an approving look as she chuckled at her joke. She knew very well that Trixie's mind was racing and she was probably about to burst with excitement. She was proud of her best friend for at least momentarily setting that aside for Di's sake. "We'd better really hurry now! I think the ice is all about melted in these drinks."
The girls quickly made their way back out of the airport where they found the boys standing near a large, white van.
"What happened to you three?" Jim demanded. "We were about to send a search and rescue party!"
"I presume the distaff portion of our distinguished association was delayed by the customary predicament," Mart said smugly. "They were lost."
Trixie's china blue eyes narrowed. She handed Dan one of the three drinks she was carrying, then passed the others to Jim and Brian. "We were not lost! It just so happens we-"
"Stopped for a moment to read an advertisement about the Mardi Gras Museum," Honey cut in quickly, hoping to avoid further distressing Diana with more talk of ghosts. "It looks like it would be a great place to visit!"
"But then we ran into this creepy man," Di added, bringing up the subject herself.
"A creepy man?" Brian echoed, frowning. "What do you mean? Was someone hassling you?"
"No! No, he wasn't bothering us at all," Trixie replied hastily.
"Speak for yourself, Trixie," Di said quietly. "He gave me the willies! All that talk about a ghost!"
There was a moment's pause, then Brian looked over at Jim. "You win. I owe you five dollars. They've found a mystery and we haven't even left the airport."
"It's probably nothing," Trixie demurred, not quite meeting anyone's eyes. "Just some story about Rosehill Plantation being haunted."
"That's what they say," a tall, skinny man said, speaking for the first time.
All seven Bob-Whites turned their attention to him.
"This is Henry," Jim explained to the girls. "He works for Mrs. de Villemont. Henry, this is my sister, Honey Wheeler, and this is Diana Lynch, and Trixie Belden."
"We've brought you a soda, Henry," Honey said, holding out the paper cup.
"That's very nice of you, miss. Now, if you'll climb in the van we'll be off. It's about an hour's drive to Rosehill, and I can tell you about the ghost on the way."
It took only moments for the Bob-Whites to find their seats and buckle themselves in. Henry expertly drove the van through the traffic and a few minutes later they were on a freeway heading away from the city.
"Why, we're driving over swamps already!" Honey exclaimed, looking out the window.
Henry chuckled. "These are more waterways then swamps, miss. When we turn off at River Road, you'll get a better glimpse of the famous bayous."
"Tell us more about the ghost, Henry," Trixie pleaded, sending Di an apologetic look.
Henry nodded. "It's an unhappy story," he cautioned. "Rosehill Plantation is supposed to be haunted by the ghost of Andre du Pree. Once upon a time he was a suitor for one of the de Villemont daughters, Claire, but old Jacques de Villemont wouldn't hear of it. The du Pree family was well respected but had fallen on hard times, and Jacques considered Andre nothing more than a fortune hunter. He sent the boy off without even considering his proposal. Andre set himself to the task of making his own riches, planning to return at a later date and claim his bride."
"What happened?" Di asked, unable to resist the romantic tale despite her earlier apprehension.
Henry shrugged. "Andre eventually did return a wealthy man. Though it was never confirmed, many said he made his fortune working with the pirates who sailed the Louisiana coast at that time. In any case, he arrived one night and asked Jacques for Claire's hand. Despite his new-found wealth, Jacques turned him away again, this time because he'd already arranged a marriage between his daughter and the son of a prominent Creole family in town. Andre was furious. He shouted some angry threats, so Jacques ordered him from the plantation. But late that night, Andre stole back into the house, hoping to convince Claire to elope with him. One of the servants heard him. He chased Andre through the main hall and out the front door. Andre leapt on the back of his horse and raced off into the night, but Jacques sent his servants to follow him. They pursued the unfortunate suitor all the way deep into the bayou, but eventually they lost him. Tragically, Andre was lost himself. He was never seen alive again."
Di gasped, covering her mouth with one hand.
"How sad," Honey remarked softly.
Henry nodded. "A very sad story."
"But how does the ghost come in to it?" Trixie wanted to know.
"Well, now. Some people claim they've seen Andre's ghost wandering the plantation grounds and calling for his love."
"Have you seen him?" Trixie asked, eyes rounding.
"Not once. And I've worked for the de Villemont family for almost twenty years." Henry suddenly smiled, dispelling the gloomy mood. "It's just a story folks like to tell. People take great interest in that sort of thing, but mark my words. It's nothing more than a fable."
Not long later, Henry guided the van off the freeway and onto an older highway that was in need of repaving. The Bob-Whites marveled at the majestic oaks that ran along both sides of the road, ancient trees dripping with layers of Spanish moss. Late afternoon sun broke through the branches to cast shadowy patterns on the ground below. A lone heron lifted in flight, its long white wings flapping in slow, graceful motion.
Soon, they made another turn. "Highway 48," Honey murmured, reading the small sign. "When will we reach River Road, Henry?"
Henry lifted one hand from the steering wheel. "This is the River Road. Highway 48 is its official name, but no one ever actually calls it that."
"We have roads like that back home," Trixie said. "The state sticks them with some boring number, but the people who live near them call them by the same names they've always known."
"I think that's the way it is all over," Henry remarked. "Who would want to say they live on Highway 48, when River Road has such history and meaning?"
For awhile the Bob-Whites fell silent, each watching the passing scenery, so different from home, with an appreciative eye.
"We're almost there, kids," Henry announced cheerfully, about fifteen minutes later. "And we've made good time. You should have plenty of time to settle in before dinner. I believe there's quite a feast planned in your honor."
"That's good," Dan said, grinning. "If I have to hear one more of Mart's raves about Louisiana food, I may just get back on a plane and go home."
Mart lifted his chin to look down his nose at his friend. "Once you get your inaugural taste of our evening's repast, you will most certainly be lavishing commensurate praise upon the native sustenance."
Henry glanced over his shoulder. "Does he always talk like that?"
"Mart swallowed a dictionary when he was a baby," Trixie replied tartly. "This is the terrible consequence."
Everyone laughed. For a moment, Mart looked angry, but then he relented and smiled good-naturedly.
Trixie winked at him to let him know she'd only been teasing. While they fought often, the truth was there was a very deep affection between the two, and neither one truly ever wished to hurt the other.
The first sight of Rosehill Plantation brought loud exclamations from the Bob-Whites.
"It's darling!" Honey declared.
"Like something out of Gone With the Wind," Di proclaimed dreamily.
"It certainly looks just like you'd expect a southern plantation to look," Brian agreed.
Rosehill Plantation sat at the end of a long, tree-lined drive. Tall, graceful columns ran the length of the house, fronting a wide porch and second story balcony. Black iron railings framed wide stone steps leading up to the massive double doors that served as the main entryway into the grand old home.
As Henry pulled the van up close, the doors were opened and a slender, lovely, dark-haired woman came out to meet them. Her welcoming smile turned into a delighted gasp as soon as Honey clambered from the van. "Why, if you don't look just like your mother did the day I met her!"
Honey flushed slightly. "People say I resemble her."
"You're a carbon copy, my dear! But come, come all of you. Let's go inside and introductions can be made there."
Mrs. de Villemont turned back toward the house after slipping her arm through Honey's.
"I like her," Di whispered to Trixie as the boys went to the back of the van to help Henry unload the luggage. "She's very beautiful and she seems very nice."
Trixie giggled. "Any woman who would be willing invite all seven of us to stay in her home for an entire week must be nice."
Suddenly there was a shout from somewhere behind the house. Startled, Di and Trixie froze just as they stepped onto the wide porch.
Henry quickly set down the bag he'd pulled from the van and hurried away, followed by first Mart, then Jim, Brian, and Dan.
"Di, go inside and tell Mrs. de Villemont there might be a problem out back," Trixie said quickly. "I'm going after the boys." She bounded down the steps and raced away, before Di could think of anything to say in reply. Di hesitated only a moment before rushing into the house, calling urgently to their hostess.
Trixie found the others gathered near the open door of a large garage. Henry and another man were inspecting a late-model luxury sedan parked inside.
"What's happened?" Trixie asked curiously, looking to her brothers for an answer.
"We're not sure," Brian replied in a low voice. "But it looks like someone might have vandalized that car. See? There's a dent and a long scratch in the paint. Not only that, but look there, on the side wall. From what I understand that hole wasn't there earlier today."
"Oh, no! Why would someone want to do a thing like that?"
"I don't know," Brian murmured. He frowned worriedly. "And I don't like it. As soon as Henry saw the damage, he threw up his hands and said, 'Not again!'"
Trixie blinked in surprise. Not again? So maybe someone had vandalized the car or the garage before, she thought pensively, or maybe both! She shook her head. A ghost and a vandal. Could they be one and the same? They hadn't been in Louisiana for more than an afternoon and already she was faced with a zinger of a mystery. She couldn't wait to get Honey alone so they could discuss it. Trixie had a suspicion that their vacation in New Orleans would prove to be one exciting adventure!
