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Philo was jubilant when he heard the news. Pierre stayed to dinner and related his story in more detail as Philo plied him with questions at the table.
"As a child in Louisiana, I had no Christian name," he explained when asked. "My fellow slaves called me 'Piglet' because they had saved me from being a savory meal for the hogs, whose males sometimes ate their young. My master called me 'Boy.' My mentor in Martinique, Madame Richard, gave me the name of the city in which she lived, Saint-Pierre. It is the cultural capital of the West Indies. I have always been glad she dropped the first half. I should hate to be called 'Saint Peter'!"
"So Saint-Pierre is a cultural center," Philo noted, "a natural place to pursue a musical career!"
Pierre smiled. "Indeed, I could have pursued nothing else! Madame Richard was a mulatto, like me, but she was very fair of complexion. This enabled her to pass for white. She became an opera star in Rio de Janeiro as a young woman, attracting the romantic interest of the Emperor of Brazil. When he abdicated his throne in favor of his son, Madame returned to Martinique and taught singing. She was no longer young when I was placed in her care. The spirit of music still possessed her. She looked upon me as malleable clay. She was not the ideal of motherhood....."
He placed his hand on Annie's and gave her a look charged with devotion.
".....but was, rather, the unrelenting taskmaster needed by a wild and independent child such as I. I became, in a way, her slave, yet she rewarded my services with a musical education that brought out every ounce of talent I had. I studied piano, violin, cello, and I sang. It was she who settled on the violin. 'You sing well,' she told me when I was twenty-two, 'but you do not have the voice for grand opera. It is better to fiddle like a master than to sing merely to entertain. I decree the violin!'"
Everyone laughed.
He told them of his marriage to a lovely Martinican girl, following his first concert success on tour in South America.
"Josette is a creature of love," he said with emotion. "When she discovers that 'Mam'selle Rainbow' is my true mother, she will weep for joy!"
He leaned over and kissed Annie on the cheek.
Annie sighed with unbridled contentment.
Bart wiped a tear from his eye. "Let me tell you what I know of this great lady. For me, it began on the day that I was born....."
While Bart told the tale of his life with Annie, Philo's thoughts drifted back to the questions he had asked himself on the battlefield at Fredericksburg: Am I only supposed to help this child and his mammy through the night? Was that whistle a summons from God?
He looked at Annie. She sat listening to Bart, but her eyes never wavered from their gaze at Pierre.
Philo's thoughts went on: Has this fulfilled the whole of God's purpose, Annie? Have you completed the circle by being led back to your son? Is it finished? Do we lose you now?
The sudden idea of losing her struck him palpably. His face went deathly pale. He gasped.
All conversation stopped. Everyone's attention turned to him.
Bart's insistent voice penetrated his mental fog. "Cap'n! Cap'n! Is something wrong?"
Annie had half-risen from her chair to rush to his aid.
He came to his senses then.
"No, no!" He waved a hand. "Nothing is wrong. I...I just have...a touch of indigestion, that's all. I'm perfectly alright! See?" His face brightened as he smiled. "I'm quite ready for a cognac in the parlor, if Annie doesn't mind."
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