He’d gambled them away and gotten drunk on the proceeds before I’d had a chance to follow him.”
Anger thinned Lazare’s lips. “And?”
Proudly, she said, “I played cards with the girls who’d won the dresses. They cheated, but I beat them anyway.” It wasn’t the whole story.
“And the magic lantern?”
“I only caught a glimpse before the barker shooed me away. I didn’t have money for a ticket.”
Ahead of them, the mesmerizing light of the lantern beckoned from the doorway, just as it had that night in the spring. On the glass window was written in Latin, in curving gold letters: LANTERNA MAGICA. Beneath it was a smaller sign indicating tonight’s show: ALL AROUND THE WORLD.
As they went in, the same barker who’d once waved Camille off now happily took the coins she gave him before gesturing for her and Lazare to find their seats. The chamber was dark and smelled of the whale oil used in the special lamp—as strong as ten candles together—that lit the slides. A smoky haze hung under the low ceiling. Taking her by the hand, Lazare led her to a small sofa. They squeezed together, Lazare trying to make room for her skirts. “Close enough?” he asked, laughing.
Was there a close-enough where Lazare was concerned? She didn’t think so. “Perfect.”
“Silence!” intoned a voice from behind them. “Regard the screen! Your journey around the world begins now!”
A hush came over the room as the first image flared to life. Ruined buildings, woolly sheep wandering through the weeds. “Rome, cradle of civilization, brought low by greed and corruption!”
The slide shifted—a blink of night—and then a new picture appeared. Pyramids in a desert. Strange, horse-like creatures standing in front of them.
“What are they?” Camille whispered.
“I think they must be camels.”
And so their journey through space and time continued. The lazy canals of Venice, a building with a circle cut out of its domed roof through which rain fell, a wide wall that ran away to a mountainous horizon. A small family standing by a river, their slender boat loaded with pelts. And arching over them, enormous trees. Camille recognized it at once. “A family of Indians,” the barker announced, “preparing to sell their furs to the French on la Rivière Hudson.”
Lazare shifted next to her. “Not Indians.”
In the froth of her skirts, Camille sought his hand and interwove her fingers among his. “This,” she said softly, “was the slide I saw that night, when I looked in. How beautiful they are, this little family, n’est-ce pas? See how the trees protect them! When I first saw it, I didn’t hear how the man described it. I imagined—” Suddenly she felt incredibly silly. Why was she telling him this?
Lazare turned slightly toward her, the light from the projection setting his eyes aflame. “Tell me. What did you imagine?”
“That they were going on a grand adventure. Somewhere far away. How I envied them!” Her life had become much bigger since then, but the longing remained. “I still do.”
“I did once promise you a great adventure.”
They’d talked about many over dinner last week, but there was one above all she wished for. “Over the Alps.”
She felt his smile against her cheek. “Why not? Or perhaps we might settle into that little boat and paddle it into the unknown. Would you run away with me, Camille Durbonne? So very far?”
In that moment of velvet darkness when the slide had vanished and before the next picture appeared, she leaned daringly close. He smelled of vetiver cologne, leather and wood smoke, the heat of his skin. He was adventure and possibility, risk and daring and desire. It intoxicated her, and she said into the curve of his ear: “Yes.”
“Then we must do it.”
The next slide, a crimson fort ornamented with cupolas and minarets, filled the room with a reddish glow, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lazare’s face light with wonder. “This one I know from books,” he said. “We would have to go very far, all the way to India.”
“I cannot wait.”
As the next slide slipped into place and Lazare whispered hot in her ear, his breath making her shiver as he told her what he knew of that place, she knew she’d gotten her wish: tonight was an evening of marvels, all darkness forgotten.
BEWARE
the
TREASON
of
MAGICIANS
RISE UP
AGAINST THE TRAITORS IN OUR MIDST
CITIZENS!
BE A PATRIOT
BE THE EARS & EYES
THAT CATCH THESE DEVILS
REPORT THEM TO THE COMITÉ
LIBERTÉ
ÉGALITÉ
FRATERNITÉ
OU
LAMORT
22
Soon strange notes began to appear at the Hôtel Séguin. At first Camille found them tucked among