User Tools

Site Tools


under_sentence_of_death
no way to compare when less than two revisions

Differences

This shows you the differences between two versions of the page.


under_sentence_of_death [2020/10/26 02:29] (current) – created briancarnell
Line 1: Line 1:
 +<html>
 +<hr class='pbk'/>
  
 +<div class="title-page">
 +<div><h1><span class='bold'>UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH;</span><br/> <span style='font-size:x-small'>OR,</span><br/> <span style='font-size:smaller'><span class='it'>A CRIMINAL’S LAST HOURS.</span></span><br/> <span style='font-size:x-small'>TOGETHER WITH</span><br/> TOLD UNDER CANVAS,<br/> <span style='font-size:x-small'>AND</span><br/> CLAUDE GUEUX.</h1></div>
 +
 +<div class='lgc' style=''> <!-- rend=';' -->
 +<p class='line0' style='font-size:.6em;'>BY</p>
 +<p class='line0' style='font-size:1.2em;'>VICTOR HUGO,</p>
 +<p class='line0' style='margin-top:.5em;font-size:.8em;'><span class='it'>Author of “Les Misérables,” “By the King’s Command,”</span></p>
 +<p class='line0' style='font-size:.8em;'><span class='it'>“The Hunchback of Notre Dame,” etc.</span></p>
 +<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
 +<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
 +<p class='line0' style='font-size:.8em;'>TRANSLATED&nbsp;&nbsp;BY&nbsp;&nbsp;SIR&nbsp;&nbsp;GILBERT&nbsp;&nbsp;CAMPBELL,&nbsp;&nbsp;BART.</p>
 +<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
 +<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
 +<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
 +<p class='line0' style='margin-bottom:.5em;font-size:.8em;'>LONDON:</p>
 +<p class='line0'>CROOME&nbsp;&nbsp;&amp;&nbsp;&nbsp;CO.,</p>
 +<p class='line0' style='margin-top:.5em;font-size:.8em;'>12, ST. BRIDE STREET, LUDGATE CIRCUS, E.C.</p>
 +</div> <!-- end rend -->
 +</div>
 +
 +<hr class='pbk'/>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2>
 +
 +<hr class='tbk100'/>
 +
 +</div>
 +
 +<table id='tab1' summary='' class='center'>
 +<colgroup>
 +<col span='1' style='width: 22em;'/>
 +<col span='1' style='width: 2em;'/>
 +</colgroup>
 +<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><span style='font-size:x-small'>PAGE</span></td></tr>
 +<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'>UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH; OR, A CRIMINAL’S LAST HOURS</td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_9'>9</a></td></tr>
 +<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
 +<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'>TOLD UNDER CANVAS:—BUG-JARGAL</td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_99'>99</a></td></tr>
 +<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
 +<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'>CLAUDE GUEUX</td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_309'>309</a></td></tr>
 +</table>
 +
 +<hr class='pbk'/>
 +
 +<p class='line0' id="half-title" style='text-align:center;margin-top:2em;font-size:1.2em;'><span class='it'>UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH.</span></p>
 +
 +<hr class='pbk'/>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='9' id='Page_9'></span></p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h2>UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH.</h2>
 +
 +<hr class='tbk101'/>
 +
 +<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Sentenced</span> to death!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>For five whole weeks have I lived with this one
 +thought, always alone with it, always frozen by its
 +ghastly presence, always crushed beneath its overwhelming
 +weight.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At first, years ago, as it seemed, not mere weeks
 +as it really was, I was a man like any other. Every
 +day, every hour, every minute was ruled by its own
 +idea. My intellect, young and fresh, lost itself in a
 +world of fantasy. I amused myself in mapping out
 +a life without order, and without end, weaving into a
 +thousand fantastic patterns the coarse and slender
 +tissue of my existence. There were lovely girls,
 +cardinals’ copes, victories won, theatres full of life
 +and light, and then again the young girls, and walks
 +in the twilight under the spreading boughs of the
 +chestnut trees. My imagination always pictured
 +scenes of pleasure. My thoughts were free, and
 +therefore I was free also.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='10' id='Page_10'></span>
 +But now I am a prisoner. My body is in irons in
 +a dungeon, and my soul is fettered by an idea—one
 +horrible, murderous, and implacable idea. I have
 +but one thought, one certainty, one deep-rooted
 +conviction, and that is that I am under sentence of
 +death!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Do what I may, that one terrible thought is ever
 +with me, like a spectre by my side, lonely and jealous,
 +driving away every effort that I may make to liberate
 +myself from its presence, face to face with me, and
 +clutching me with its icy hand when I endeavour to
 +turn aside my head, or to close my eyes upon its
 +horrifying existence.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>It intrudes itself into all the thoughts by which I
 +vainly strive to forget it; I hear it like a horrible
 +chorus in every word that is addressed to me; it
 +places its face against mine as I glance through the
 +barred windows of my dungeon; it attacks me whilst
 +waking, it haunts my spasmodic efforts at sleep, and
 +appears in my dreams under the form of the axe of
 +the guillotine.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>It is still present as I wake up with a start, and
 +say, “It is but a dream.” Well, even before my
 +eyes have had time to open, and to see the whole
 +terrible reality which surrounds me, written on the
 +damp stone of my prison walls, in the pale rays of
 +my lamp, in the coarse fabric of my clothes, in the
 +dark figure of the sentinel whose bayonet gleams
 +through the loophole of my dungeon, it seems as if a
 +sonorous voice murmurs in my ears:</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Sentenced to death!</span>”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='11' id='Page_11'></span></p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>It</span> was a lovely morning in August.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Three days had passed since my trial had been
 +commenced; three days since my crime had collected
 +every morning a crowd of curious spectators, who
 +lounged on the benches of the court like carrion
 +crows around a carcase; three days since that
 +strange, half visionary procession of judges, of
 +lawyers, of witnesses, and public prosecutors, had
 +passed and repassed before me, sometimes ludicrous,
 +but always murderous, always gloomy and fatal.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>During the first two nights restlessness and
 +nervousness had prevented me from sleeping; on the
 +third, weariness and lassitude had conduced to
 +slumber. At midnight I had left the jury still deliberating.
 +Re-conducted to my cell, I had thrown myself
 +on my pallet, and had fallen at once into a deep
 +sleep—the sleep of forgetfulness. It was my first
 +repose for many days. I was still wrapped in this
 +profound slumber when they came and woke me.
 +This time the tramp of the gaoler’s heavy shoes, the
 +clink of his bunch of keys, and the harsh grating of
 +the bolts, were not sufficient to arouse me from my
 +stupor; he had to shake me, and to shout in my ear—“Get
 +up!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I opened my eyes, and with a bound rose from my
 +couch. At that instant, through the narrow window
 +pierced in the higher portion of the walls of my cell,
 +I saw reflected upon the ceiling of the adjoining
 +passage (the only means by which I could catch a
 +glimpse of the sky), the sun. I love the sunlight.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='12' id='Page_12'></span>
 +“It is a fine day,” remarked I to the gaoler.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He remained silent for an instant, as though considering
 +whether it were worth while to reply to
 +me; then, as though making an effort, he answered
 +sullenly—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, it seems so.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I remained motionless, my intellectual powers
 +almost dormant, and my eyes fixed upon that soft
 +golden reflection that gilded the ceiling.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It is a lovely day,” repeated I.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” answered the man, “but they are waiting
 +for you.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>These few words, like the web of the spider that
 +intercepts the flight of the fly, threw me roughly
 +back into every-day life. On a sudden I again saw,
 +as in a flash of lightning, the court of justice, the
 +table before the judges, strewn with blood-stained
 +rags, the three ranks of witnesses with their expressionless
 +faces, the two gendarmes at each side of
 +the dock, the black gowns of the bar constantly
 +moving to and fro, the heads of the crowd thronged
 +together in the body of the court, and the fixed gaze
 +of the twelve jurymen, who had watched whilst I
 +had slept.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I rose up, my teeth chattered, my hands trembled
 +so that I could hardly gather together my clothes,
 +my legs bent under me. At the first step that I
 +attempted to take I staggered like a porter whose
 +load is too heavy for him. However, I nerved
 +myself, and followed my gaoler.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The two gendarmes were waiting for me on the
 +threshold of my cell. They handcuffed me again.
 +<span class='pageno' title='13' id='Page_13'></span>
 +It was rather a complicated lock, which they had
 +some trouble in closing. I submitted passively—it
 +was a machine put into a machine.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>We passed through one of the inner courtyards;
 +the fresh air of the morning gave me strength. I
 +raised my head. The sky was of a bright blue, and
 +the warm sunbeams, broken by the lofty chimneys,
 +traced great angular lines of light on the tall and
 +gloomy walls of the prison. In truth it was very
 +beautiful.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>We mounted a spiral staircase, we passed through
 +one corridor, then another, and again through a
 +third; then a low door was opened. A warm breath
 +of air, and the sound of voices met me; it was the
 +murmuring of the crowd in the court. I entered.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>On my appearance there was a clang of arms and
 +a confused sound of voices, seats were noisily pushed
 +aside, and as I passed through the long room between
 +the lines of spectators, kept in position by soldiers,
 +it seemed as if I were the centre point upon which
 +every eye was fixed.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At that instant I perceived that my irons had been
 +removed, but when and how I knew not.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then there was a deep silence. I had reached my
 +appointed place. As the disturbance ceased in the
 +crowd, so my ideas grew clearer. I understood what
 +I had before only vaguely surmised—that the decisive
 +moment had arrived, and that I had been brought
 +into court to hear my sentence.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Explain it as you may, when this idea entered my
 +head I felt no fear. The windows of the court were
 +wide open, the fresh air and the busy hum of the
 +<span class='pageno' title='14' id='Page_14'></span>
 +city poured in freely; the court was as neatly
 +arranged as if it was to be the place in which a
 +marriage was to be celebrated; the bright rays of the
 +sun traced here and there the luminous shadows of
 +the casements, sometimes spread upon the floor,
 +sometimes portrayed on the tables, now and then
 +broken by the angles of the walls; whilst the beams
 +themselves, shining through the panes of glass, looked
 +like great bars of golden dust. The judges at the
 +end of the room wore a self-satisfied air—no doubt
 +pleased that their task was so nearly concluded.
 +The face of the President, upon which the reflection
 +of one of the panes of glass shone, was calm and
 +benevolent, whilst one of his younger colleagues
 +played with his cap as he conversed gaily with a
 +young lady in a pink bonnet, for whom he had
 +procured a seat just behind himself. The jury alone
 +looked pale and worn out, evidently from having
 +remained awake during the long watches of the
 +night; some of them were yawning. The expression
 +of their faces gave no indication that they felt the
 +responsibility of the sentence that they were about
 +to pronounce, the only noticeable point amongst
 +these worthy shopkeepers being an evident desire
 +for sleep.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Exactly opposite to me was a tall window wide
 +open. Through it I could hear the laughter of the
 +stall-keepers on the quays, and in a crevice in the
 +window-sill was a pretty little yellow floweret waving
 +to and fro in the wind.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>How, in the midst of all these pleasing objects,
 +could any unpleasant idea intrude itself? With the
 +<span class='pageno' title='15' id='Page_15'></span>
 +balmy air, and the bright sun playing around me, it
 +was impossible to think of anything else except
 +liberty. Hope shone round me like the sunbeams;
 +and in full confidence I awaited my sentence with
 +the feelings of a man looking forward to life and
 +freedom. And now my counsel arrived; he had
 +evidently been breakfasting luxuriously. We were
 +waiting for him. As he moved into his place, he
 +bent towards me, and whispered—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I have hope still.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Indeed,” answered I, in the same light tone,
 +with a smile on my lips.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” returned he; “I do not yet know what line
 +the prosecution will take, but if they cannot prove
 +premeditation, you will only get penal servitude for
 +life.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“How, sir!” exclaimed I, indignantly. “Sooner
 +death a thousand times.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Yes, death. And besides, an inner voice kept
 +repeating to me that I risked nothing by saying this.
 +Who ever heard of sentence of death being pronounced
 +except at midnight, with burning torches,
 +in a damp and gloomy hall, and on a cold and rainy
 +winter’s night! But in the month of August, on so
 +beautiful a day, at eight o’clock in the morning,
 +those benevolent-looking jurymen could not have the
 +heart to find me guilty! And my eyes again fixed
 +themselves on the little yellow floweret in the sun
 +light.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At that moment the President, who had been
 +waiting for my counsel, ordered me to stand up.
 +The guard carried arms. As if by a shock of
 +<span class='pageno' title='16' id='Page_16'></span>
 +electricity, all those assembled in the court became
 +animated with life. A mean-looking man, seated
 +at a table beneath the judge’s chair, evidently the
 +clerk of the court, broke the silence by reading the
 +verdict of the jury, which they had given in my
 +absence. A cold sweat bedewed all my limbs, and I
 +leaned against the wall to save myself from falling.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Counsel, have you anything to urge against the
 +sentence of death being pronounced?” asked the
 +President.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I could have said a great deal, but I was unable to
 +frame a consecutive sentence; my tongue clove to
 +the roof of my mouth.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>My counsel rose to his feet.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>As I followed his line of argument I understood
 +that he was endeavouring to soften the verdict of the
 +jury, and striving to induce the judge to inflict the
 +lighter penalty, the penalty which I had been so
 +wounded at his suggesting. My indignation must
 +have been very strong to pierce through the
 +numerous complications of my faculties.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I endeavoured to repeat in a loud voice the words
 +I had already said, “Sooner death a thousand
 +times!” but all that I could do was to clutch him
 +convulsively by the arm, and cry out in convulsive
 +accents, “No, no!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The Public Prosecutor argued against my counsel’s
 +plea, and I listened to him with an air of stupid
 +satisfaction. Then the judges left the court to
 +consult together, and on their return the President
 +read the sentence.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Condemned to death,” murmured the spectators;
 +<span class='pageno' title='17' id='Page_17'></span>
 +and as they hurried me away the crowd pressed
 +around me with a noise like that of a falling house.
 +I walked along passively, stupefied and confused.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A sudden transformation had taken place in me.
 +Until the sentence of death had been actually
 +passed, I felt that I was living and breathing like
 +other men; now I felt that a barrier had been erected
 +between myself and my fellow-creatures. Nothing
 +now wore the same aspect as it had done previously.
 +Those tall, luminous windows, the bright sunlight,
 +the clear sky, the beautiful flowers, all became white
 +and pallid like the colour of a shroud. Those men
 +and women and children who pressed around me
 +had something of the air of spectres.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A carriage painted a dirty black, with bars to the
 +windows, was waiting for me. As I was about to
 +enter it, I paused, and looked around me. “A
 +condemned criminal!” cried the passers-by, as they
 +hurried towards the vehicle. Through the mist that
 +seemed to interpose between the world and myself I
 +could perceive the young girls who followed my
 +every movement with greedy eyes.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Good!” cried the younger one, clapping her
 +hands. “It will be in six weeks’ time!”</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Condemned</span> to death.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Well, why not? have I not read in some book that
 +<span class='it'>all men are condemned to death with a respite the date of
 +which is not fixed</span>?</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>How, then, is my position changed?</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='18' id='Page_18'></span>
 +Since the day that my sentence was pronounced,
 +how many are dead who had arranged for a long and
 +happy life; how many of those, young, free, and in
 +good health, who expected to see my head fall in
 +the Place de Grêve, have gone before me; and how
 +many more are there, who breathe the free air, and
 +go where they please, who will also precede me to
 +the next world? And why should I long for life?
 +In fact, the prison with its gloomy light, and the
 +black bread which constitutes the prison fare; the
 +thin soup drank from a galley-slave’s cup; to be
 +constantly insulted—I, who am refined by education,
 +to be abused by gaolers and by the convict guards;
 +never to see a human being who considers me
 +worthy of a kind word—these are the sole pleasures
 +of life which the executioner will take from me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>And yet it is very terrible!</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> black carriage has brought me here to the
 +hideous prison of the Bicêtre.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Seen from afar, this building has a certain majestic
 +air about it. It is situated at the foot of a hill, and
 +covers a large extent of ground. Looked at from a
 +distance, it retains some of its ancient splendour as
 +a king’s palace, but as you come nearer to it the
 +building changes into a mere commonplace edifice.
 +The broken turrets wound the eye. There is an air
 +of shame and degradation about it; it seems as if the
 +walls were struck with the leprosy of crime.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='19' id='Page_19'></span>
 +No windows, no glass in the frames, but massive
 +crossed bars of iron, through which can occasionally
 +be seen the pallid countenance of a convict or of a
 +madman. Such is the appearance of the prison
 +when seen closely.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER V.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Scarcely</span> had I arrived when I was seized in its
 +iron embraces. Every precaution was multiplied;
 +no knife, no fork was permitted for my meals; the
 +strait-waistcoat, a kind of coarse canvas sack,
 +imprisoned my arms. They were responsible for my
 +life.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I was to be with them for six or seven weeks, and
 +it was their duty to deliver me safe and sound to the
 +executioner.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>For the first few days they treated me with a tenderness
 +that had something revolting in it. The
 +kindnesses of a turnkey remind you of the scaffold.
 +But to my delight, after a few days had passed away,
 +custom resumed its sway, and they treated me with
 +the same brutality that they did the other prisoners,
 +and ceased those unusual demonstrations of courtesy
 +which reminded me every moment of the executioner.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>My youth, my good behaviour, my attention to
 +the gaol chaplain, and especially a word or two of
 +Latin which I addressed to the porter, who did not
 +understand them, by the way, gave me the privilege
 +of outdoor exercise every week with the other prisoners,
 +and released me from the terrible strait-waistcoat
 +<span class='pageno' title='20' id='Page_20'></span>
 +which paralyzed my every movement.
 +After a great deal of hesitation I was permitted the
 +use of pen, ink, and paper, as well as a lamp in the
 +evenings. Every Sunday, after hearing mass, I was
 +permitted to go into the courtyard during the hour
 +devoted to exercise. There I had long conversations
 +with the prisoners. Why not? They are good
 +enough fellows, these poor wretches. They told me
 +what crimes they had committed. At first I was
 +horrified, but after a time I found out that they were
 +given to boasting. They taught me to talk slang,
 +<span class='it'>patter-flash</span>, as they called it. Thieves’ slang is a
 +perfect language grafted on to our expressions of
 +every-day life, a species of hideous excrescence like
 +some loathsome worm. When you first hear this
 +language spoken you instinctively experience a feeling
 +of repulsion as when you see a bundle of foul and
 +dirty rags shaken before you.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>But these men pitied me, and they were the only
 +ones who did so. As for the warders, the turnkeys,
 +and the gaolers, I scorned their pity, for they would
 +talk and laugh about me to my very face as though
 +I were some inanimate object.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER VI.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>I said</span> to myself, “Since I have been furnished with
 +the means of writing, why should I not use them?
 +But what shall I write?” Shut up between four cold
 +and naked stone walls, with no liberty for my feet,
 +no vista for my eyes to range, my sole occupation
 +<span class='pageno' title='21' id='Page_21'></span>
 +to follow the slow movement of the white square of
 +light, which, falling through the wicket in my cell
 +door, seemed chiselled in the dark wall of my prison,
 +and, as I said before, alone with one remembrance,
 +the remembrance of a crime and its punishment, of
 +murder, and of death—what have I to say, I who
 +have no longer part and parcel in this world? And
 +how will this shattered brain enable me to write
 +anything worth reading?</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>But why not? Even though all around me is
 +sombre and out of gear, is there not in me a tempest,
 +a struggle, a tragedy? This fixed idea that holds
 +me in its power, does it not present itself to me each
 +hour in a different shape, in a novel form, and each
 +one more hideous and blood-stained than the one
 +that preceded it? Why should I not endeavour to
 +speak to myself of all the terrible and hitherto unknown
 +sensation that I experience in the desolate
 +position in which I am. Assuredly there is ample
 +material, and though my days are numbered, yet
 +there is enough of anguish, terror, and torture in
 +these last hours of mine to wear out the pen and to
 +empty the inkstand.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Besides, the only method in which I can allay my
 +torments is to observe them closely. The mere fact
 +of describing them will give me repose.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>And then what I write will not be without its use.
 +This record of my sufferings hour by hour, and
 +minute by minute, punishment heaped on punishment,
 +if I have the strength to carry it up to that
 +point where it will be <span class='it'>physically</span> impossible for me to
 +continue it further—this history, unfinished as it
 +<span class='pageno' title='22' id='Page_22'></span>
 +necessarily must be, but as complete as I can make
 +it, will it not be well worthy of perusal? Will not
 +this vivid reproduction of agonizing thoughts in that
 +ever-increasing torrent of grief, in that intellectual
 +dissection of the last hours of a man sentenced to
 +death—will it not, I say, contain a striking lesson
 +for those who have condemned him? Perhaps it
 +will make them think twice ere they again consign
 +the living, breathing head of a man to the hands of
 +the executioner. Perhaps, unhappy wretches, they
 +have never considered the slow torture which follows
 +a condemnation to death.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Has the idea never struck them that in the man
 +whom they are going to suppress there is a reasoning
 +intelligence, an intelligence that had counted on a
 +prolonged life, a soul which was not prepared for
 +death? No; they only see in all this the vertical
 +fall of the triangular blade, and doubtless consider
 +that for the condemned man there is neither past
 +nor future.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>But my pages will undeceive them. Some day,
 +perhaps, they will be printed, and those who read
 +them will pause for a few moments in this record
 +of a soul’s sufferings which they had up to that time
 +never even suspected. They were proud to be able
 +to kill the body with the smallest amount of physical
 +pain. But what good is that? What is physical,
 +when compared with mental pain? A day will come
 +when, perhaps, these memoirs, the last impressions
 +of an unhappy man, may have contributed——Unless,
 +indeed, after my death the wind may toss
 +about the courtyard a few pieces of paper stained
 +<span class='pageno' title='23' id='Page_23'></span>
 +with mud, or else, pasted in a broken pane of glass
 +in the porter’s lodge, they may serve to exclude the
 +rain.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER VII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>And</span> suppose what I have written may be one day of
 +use to others, and may cause the judge to hesitate to
 +doom a fellow-creature to death, that it may save
 +other unfortunates, innocent or guilty, from the
 +agonies to which I am condemned—what good will
 +all this do to me? When my head has been cut off,
 +what does it matter whether they cut off those of
 +others or not? Can I really have been troubling
 +myself about such follies? What good will it do me
 +to abolish the scaffold after I have suffered upon it?
 +What! am I to lose the sun, the spring, the fields
 +full of flowers, the birds which wake up and chirp in
 +the early morning, the clouds, nature, liberty, and
 +life?</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Ah! it is myself that I must save. Is it really
 +true that this cannot be done? that I may be taken
 +out and killed to-morrow, to-day, even, for all that
 +I know? The thought is enough to make me dash
 +out my brains against the wall of my cell.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER VIII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Let</span> me count how much time remains to me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Three days of delay after sentence has been given,
 +to enable me to appeal in.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='24' id='Page_24'></span>
 +Eight days of forgetfulness in the office of the
 +court, after which the statement of the case will be
 +sent to the Minister.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Fifteen days waiting at the Minister’s, who does
 +not even know that the affair is before him, and yet
 +he is supposed to send it up to the Court of Appeal
 +after examining it. Then it has to be classed,
 +numbered, and registered; for there is plenty of work
 +for the guillotine, and each one must await his turn.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Fifteen days of watching and waiting.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At last the Court of Appeal assembles—generally
 +upon a Thursday—and rejects twenty appeals in a
 +lump, and sends all the papers to the Minister, who
 +sends them to the Public Prosecutor, who communicates
 +with the executioner. Three days.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>On the morning of the fourth day the assistant to
 +the Public Prosecutor says to himself, as he ties his
 +neckcloth, “It is time that this affair was finished.”
 +Then, if the assistant to the clerk of the court has
 +not a few friends to breakfast who prevent him from
 +attending to his duties, the order for the execution is
 +noted, dated, registered, and sent out, and the next
 +morning, at the break of day, a scaffold is erected in
 +the Place de Grêve, and all through the city are
 +heard the hoarse voices of the newsvendors calling
 +out a full, true, and particular account of the execution.
 +And all this in six weeks! That young girl
 +was right.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>So that five weeks, perhaps six, remain; but I
 +dare not rely upon this, and I am in a cell in the
 +Bicêtre, and it seems to me that Thursday has
 +passed three days ago.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='25' id='Page_25'></span></p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER IX.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>I am</span> going to make my will; but no, it is useless.
 +I am condemned to pay the costs of the trial, and all
 +that I possess will hardly be sufficient to meet the
 +expenses.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The guillotine is an expensive luxury.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I have a mother, a wife, and a child.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A little girl three years of age, gentle, rosy, and
 +delicate, with large black eyes and long chestnut
 +hair.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>She was just two years and a month old when I
 +last saw her.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Thus, after my death there will be three women
 +without son, husband, or father; three orphans of
 +different kinds, three widows made by the hand of
 +the law.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I allow that I am justly punished; but what have
 +<span class='it'>these</span> innocent creatures done? No; these are dishonoured
 +and ruined for no fault of their own: and
 +this is justice!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>It is not the thought of my poor old mother that
 +disquiets me; she is sixty-four; the blow will kill
 +her at once, or even if she lingers on for a little
 +while, as long as she has a little fire to warm her
 +feet at she will not complain.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Nor am I uneasy regarding my wife; she is an
 +invalid, and her mind is not very strong; she will
 +die too.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Unless, indeed, she goes mad. They say that mad
 +people live a long while; but if her intellect goes she
 +<span class='pageno' title='26' id='Page_26'></span>
 +will not suffer: she will sleep, she is as good as
 +dead.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>But my daughter, my child, my poor little Marie,
 +who laughs and plays, who even now, perhaps, is
 +singing and thinking of nothing—that is what cuts
 +me to the heart.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER X.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>This</span> is what my cell is like:</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Eight feet square, four walls of hewn stone
 +standing at right angles upon a flooring of flagstones
 +raised a few inches above the exterior corridor.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>On the right-hand side of the door as you enter is
 +a kind of recess, a sort of burlesque alcove. A heap
 +of straw has been thrown into it, on which the
 +prisoner is expected to repose and sleep, clad in his
 +canvas trousers and linen frock, winter and summer.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Above my head, instead of the skies of heaven, is
 +an arched roof, from which hang huge spiders’ webs
 +like masses of rags.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>No window, not even a loophole, and a door the
 +woodwork of which is hidden by its massive iron
 +plates. No window? I am in error. Towards the
 +top of the door is an opening nine inches square,
 +with a grating over it which the gaoler can close at
 +night.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Outside is a long passage, lighted and ventilated
 +by narrow loopholes high up in the wall, and divided
 +into stone compartments which communicate with
 +each other by a series of low doors. Each of these
 +<span class='pageno' title='27' id='Page_27'></span>
 +compartments serves as a kind of ante-chamber to a
 +cell similar to mine. It is in these dungeons that
 +convicts who have infringed the gaol regulations are
 +confined. The three first cells are reserved for
 +criminals condemned to death, as they are nearer
 +to the prison, and therefore more convenient for the
 +officials.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>These dungeons are the remains of the ancient
 +castle of Bicêtre, built by the Cardinal of Winchester,
 +the same priest who ordered Jeanne d’Arc to
 +be burnt alive. I heard the gaoler telling this to
 +some anxious sightseers who came and stared at me
 +in my dungeon as if I was a beast in a menagerie.
 +I should add that a sentinel is always on guard at
 +the door of the cell, and that whenever my gaze falls
 +upon the opening in the door it meets two widely
 +opened eyes fixed intently upon mine. I believe
 +that it is supposed that there is both air and light in
 +the stone box in which I am confined.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XI.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>As</span> daylight has not yet come, what shall I do with
 +the hours of the night? An idea has struck me:
 +I have risen, and moved my lamp along the four
 +walls of my cell. They are covered with writing,
 +drawings, designs, and strange figures of all kinds.
 +It seems as if each condemned prisoner had resolved
 +here at least to leave some remembrance of himself,
 +either in chalk or charcoal, in white or black letters,
 +sometimes deeply graven in the stone, at other times
 +<span class='pageno' title='28' id='Page_28'></span>
 +rusty-looking, as though traced in blood. If my
 +mind was more at ease I should take great interest
 +in this strange book which opens its leaves before
 +my eyes on every stone of my dungeon. I should
 +have liked to have collected together all these fragments
 +of thought scattered about on the walls, to
 +have picked out the inscriptions of each man, and to
 +have given sense and life to all these mutilated sentences,
 +to these dismembered phrases, to these half-finished
 +words, heads without bodies, like those who
 +had carved them on the walls.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A little above my bed were two bleeding hearts
 +pierced with an arrow, and above it was <span class='it'>Love for
 +Life</span>: the unhappy man had not had his wish gratified.
 +By the side of this was a sort of three-cornered
 +hat, and underneath this a small figure clumsily
 +executed, with these words, <span class='it'>Long live the Emperor,
 +1824</span>.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Again, I noticed the burning hearts with this motto:
 +<span class='it'>I love Mathias Dunvin-Jacques</span>. On the opposite wall
 +was the word <span class='it'>Papavoine</span>, the P covered with elaborate
 +arabesques and flourishes; next to it were a few
 +verses of an obscene song. A cap of Liberty deeply
 +cut into the stone, with the name, <span class='it'>Bovies—The
 +Republic</span>. This was the name of one of the non-commissioned
 +officers of La Rochelle. Poor young fellow!
 +How hideous are the pretended necessities of political
 +intrigue, to risk for an idea, for a dream, that terrible
 +reality, the guillotine, and I, who pity myself, miserable
 +wretch, I have committed a real crime, and have
 +spilt blood!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I did not continue my researches, for drawn in
 +<span class='pageno' title='29' id='Page_29'></span>
 +white, in a dark corner of the room, I saw an appalling
 +design; it was a representation of that scaffold
 +which may even now be in course of erection for me.
 +My lamp almost fell from my hands.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>I turned</span> away and sat down on my bed, my face
 +buried in my hands, and my elbows resting on my
 +knees; my childish fright had passed away, and a
 +strange desire had taken possession of me to continue
 +my researches.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>By the side of the name of Papavoine I tore away
 +a large spider’s web covered with dust, and stretched
 +across the angle of the wall; under it were four
 +names, easy to decipher: Dantun, 1815; Poulain,
 +1818; Jean Martin, 1821; Castaing, 1823. As I
 +read these names a flood of horrible recollections
 +pounced upon me: Dantun had cut up his brother,
 +and, going about Paris by night, had thrown his head
 +into a well, and the limbs and trunk into different
 +portions of the sewers. Poulain had murdered his
 +wife. Jean Martin had fired a pistol at his father as
 +the old man was looking out of a window. Castaing
 +was a doctor, who had poisoned his friend, and
 +whilst attending to him professionally gave him
 +fresh doses of poison. Whilst Papavoine was a
 +horrible maniac, who slew little children with knife-thrusts
 +in the head. “These,” thought I, as a
 +feverish shiver shook me—“these have been the denizens
 +of this cell before me; it is here, on this very
 +<span class='pageno' title='30' id='Page_30'></span>
 +floor, that they, men of blood and slaughter, have
 +thought out their last thoughts; it is in this narrow
 +space that they have paced up and down like savage
 +beasts.” They succeeded each other with great
 +rapidity; this cell does not remain empty long. They
 +have left the nest warm, and it is to me that they
 +have left it. I, in my turn, shall join them in the
 +cemetery of Clamont, where the grass grows so
 +luxuriantly and well. I am not a visionary, nor am
 +I superstitious; it is probable that these gloomy
 +thoughts produced a slight attack of fever, for whilst
 +I was thus musing it seemed to me as if these fatal
 +names were written in fire on the black wall; I heard
 +a buzzing in my ears, which grew quicker and quicker;
 +a red light shone in my eyes, and then it seemed as if
 +the cell was filled with men, strange men, who carried
 +their heads in their left hands, and carried them by
 +the mouth, because the hair was cut off. All shook
 +their fists at me except the parricide.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I shut my eyes in horror, and saw it all the more
 +distinctly.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Dream, vision, or reality, I should have gone mad
 +if something had not aroused me from my paroxysm;
 +I was in the act of falling backwards, when I felt a
 +cold body with hairy feet walk over my foot. It was
 +the spider whose web I had destroyed, and who was
 +escaping. This brought me to my senses, but oh,
 +what terrible apparitions!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>No, no! it was imagination engendered by the
 +working of my brain. The dead are dead, these
 +especially, and fastened down securely in their
 +tombs. That is a prison from which there is no
 +<span class='pageno' title='31' id='Page_31'></span>
 +escape. How could I be so frightened? The gates
 +of the tomb do not open on this side.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XIII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>I have</span> witnessed a horrible scene to-day.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>It was bright daylight, and the prison was full of
 +unaccustomed noise. I could hear the opening and
 +shutting of heavy doors, the creaking of bolts and
 +padlocks, the jingling of the keys that the warders
 +carried at their waists, the shaking of the stairs under
 +the tread of heavy feet, and voices calling to and
 +answering each other, down the long corridors. My
 +neighbours in the cells, the refractory convicts, were
 +gayer than usual. All through Bicêtre rang the
 +sound of mirth, and dance, and song.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I alone in the midst of all this hubbub was dumb.
 +Not understanding the cause, I listened attentively.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>One of the gaolers passed my door.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I ventured to ask him if there was a holiday in the
 +prison.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You may call it one if you like,” replied he.
 +“To-day they are putting irons on the convicts, who
 +will start for Toulon to-morrow. Would you like to
 +see it done?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>After the hermit’s life that I had led such an offer
 +was too good to be refused, odious as the spectacle
 +might be, and I accepted his offer gratefully.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The warder took the usual precautions to ensure
 +my safety, and then he conducted me to an empty
 +cell, without an atom of furniture in it, but with a
 +<span class='pageno' title='32' id='Page_32'></span>
 +window, a real window, from which, though strongly
 +barred, a glimpse of the sky could be caught.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Here you are,” said he; “from this you can both
 +see and hear; you have your private box just like a
 +king!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then he left me alone, noisily securing the door
 +with bolts, bars, and padlocks.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The window looked into a large square courtyard,
 +round the four sides of which was a tall stone building
 +six storeys in height. Nothing could look more
 +miserable and naked than these buildings, pierced
 +with an immense number of windows, all of them
 +heavily barred. Every window was filled with a
 +crowd of heads, piled one upon another like the
 +stones that composed the walls, and framed as it
 +were by the interlacing of the iron bars. These were
 +the prisoners, spectators of a ceremony in which one
 +day they would play the principal part. You could
 +compare them to nothing but the souls in purgatory
 +gazing through the windows that looked on to the
 +infernal regions.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>All gazed in silence on to the court, which was
 +totally unoccupied.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>In one of the buildings that surrounded the courtyard
 +was an opening closed by a gate of iron bars;
 +this opened into a smaller courtyard, surrounded,
 +like the other, by a series of gloomy-looking buildings.
 +All round the larger court were stone benches, built
 +against the wall, and in the centre was a tall iron
 +lamp-post.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Twelve o’clock struck; the gate was hurriedly
 +thrown open. A waggon, escorted by men somewhat
 +<span class='pageno' title='33' id='Page_33'></span>
 +resembling soldiers, but dirty and untidy-looking,
 +lumbered heavily into the yard with a loud clanking
 +of iron. The men were the guardians of the galleys,
 +and the waggon contained the chain.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At this moment, as if the noise had galvanized the
 +prison into life, the spectators at the windows, who
 +had up to this time preserved a strict silence, burst
 +into cries of joy, into songs, oaths, and insults,
 +mingled with peals of strident laughter heart-rending
 +to hear. You would have imagined that it was an
 +assembly of demons—on each face appeared a
 +fiendish grin, fists were shaken through the window
 +bars, every throat gave utterance to a yell, every eye
 +flashed fire.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>However, the escort proceeded to work at once.
 +Amongst them I noticed several persons whom
 +curiosity had led to the spot, and who now appeared
 +to half repent of their temerity. One of the guards
 +clambered on to the waggon and threw down to his
 +comrades the chains, the travelling collars, and huge
 +bundles of canvas trousers. Then each man proceeded
 +to perform his allotted task; some laid out
 +the chains against the walls, others arranged the
 +shirts and trousers in heaps, whilst the more sagacious
 +amongst them, under the guidance of their
 +chief, a short, square-built man, carefully tested the
 +iron collars to see that there were no flaws in them.
 +All this was done in the midst of a flood of ribaldry
 +from the prisoners, whose voices were occasionally
 +drowned by the loud laughter of the convicts for
 +whom these preparations were being made.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>When these preliminaries were completed, a
 +<span class='pageno' title='34' id='Page_34'></span>
 +gentleman in a laced uniform, who was termed the
 +inspector, gave an order to the governor of the prison;
 +and a moment afterwards, through two or three low
 +doors, rushed a yelling crowd of hideous and disgusting-looking
 +men—these were the convicts.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then the excitement of the lookers-on rose to its
 +highest pitch. Those amongst the convicts who had
 +earned a high criminal reputation were received with
 +loud applause, which they acknowledged with a kind
 +of haughty modesty. Many of the convicts carried
 +in their hands hats which they had made from the
 +straw supplied to them for bedding. One young
 +man, or rather a boy, for he could not have been
 +more than seventeen years of age, was much
 +applauded. He had made himself an entire garment
 +of straw, and came bounding into the yard, turning
 +a succession of somersaults. He was as lithe and
 +active as a serpent, and had been condemned to the
 +galleys for theft. On his appearance there was a
 +frenzied clapping of hands, and loud shouts of
 +admiration. It was a frightful thing to witness this
 +interchange of compliments between the veritable
 +convicts and the aspirants to that distinction. As
 +they came into the yard they were pushed and
 +hustled between a double rank of the guards of the
 +galleys in anticipation of the medical inspection.
 +Then were the last efforts made to avoid the dreaded
 +galleys, some pretending that they were lame, others
 +that their eyesight was defective, and a hundred
 +other excuses. But in most cases they were found
 +to be in quite good enough health for the galleys,
 +and they resigned themselves at once to their fate
 +<span class='pageno' title='35' id='Page_35'></span>
 +with utter carelessness, appearing entirely to forget
 +the pretended ailments of a lifetime. The iron
 +barred gate of the little court was now opened, and
 +one of the guards commenced calling the roll, which
 +was arranged alphabetically; and each convict, after
 +answering his name, took up a position by the side
 +of the comrade whom the chance of the initial letter
 +had designated as his companion. Thus, if a convict
 +had a friend, the odds were that he would be separated
 +from him and linked to an unknown—another
 +addition to their punishment.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>When about thirty had been collected, the gate
 +was again closed. One of the guards, forming them
 +into line with blows of his stick, threw before each
 +one a coarse shirt and a pair of trousers, and at the
 +word of command they began to undress. And now
 +a fresh and unexpected torture began. Up to this
 +time the weather had been very fine; and if the
 +October breeze was a little cold, still the rays of the
 +sun were very grateful. But scarcely had the convicts
 +removed their prison rags, and whilst the
 +suspicious guards were examining them as they
 +stood bare and naked before them, than the sky
 +clouded over, and a heavy shower descended, flooding
 +the courtyard with torrents of rain.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>In the twinkling of an eye every one except the
 +guards and the galley-slaves had left the courtyard,
 +and had sought shelter under the gateways.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The rain still continued to fall, and nothing was
 +to be seen but the naked bodies of the convicts
 +glistening in the wet. A gloomy silence had succeeded
 +their boastful fanfaronades. They shivered,
 +<span class='pageno' title='36' id='Page_36'></span>
 +and their teeth chattered; their emaciated legs and
 +knotty knees trembled beneath the weight of their
 +bodies, and it was pitiable to see them wrap the
 +sodden shirts around their limbs, which were blue
 +with the cold. Shirts and trousers were alike dripping
 +with the rain; nudity would have been preferable
 +to such a covering. One convict only, an elderly
 +man, preserved his gaiety, complaining that “this
 +was not in the programme.” He endeavoured to
 +dry his soaking shirt, and shook his fist at the clouds.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>When they had put on their travelling garb, they
 +were collected in parties of twenty or thirty into the
 +corners of the yard where the chains had been
 +deposited. The chains were long and massive, and
 +at every two feet were two shorter transverse ones
 +terminating in a collar, which was rivetted on the
 +neck of the galley-slave during his journey to his
 +destination. When these chains were spread along
 +the ground they resembled the backbone of some
 +huge fish.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The convicts were now ordered to sit down on the
 +muddy pavement; the collars were fitted to their
 +necks; then the blacksmiths, carrying a portable
 +anvil, fixed the rivets with heavy blows of a sledge-hammer.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This was a terrible moment; even the boldest
 +amongst the convicts changed colour.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Every blow of the hammer as it fell on the anvil
 +made the chin of the patient quiver; the slightest
 +movement either forwards or backwards would have
 +crushed the skull like a nutshell.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>When this operation had been concluded, an
 +<span class='pageno' title='37' id='Page_37'></span>
 +appearance of gloom came over them; nothing could
 +now be heard except the clanking of the chain, and
 +at intervals a cry, and the sound of a blow, as the
 +canes of the guards fell heavily upon the refractory
 +convicts. Some of them wept, some trembled and
 +bit their lips. I gazed with terror upon all these
 +sinister faces in their iron frames.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>So there were three acts in this lugubrious drama—the
 +visit of the doctors, the visit of the gaolers,
 +and the fixing of the chain. Suddenly a ray of
 +sunlight appeared. From the conduct of the convicts
 +it would have seemed that this gleam of light
 +had set every brain on fire. They sprang to their
 +feet with an unanimous effort. The five chains of
 +criminals joined hands, and whirled in a mad dance
 +round the lamp-post in the centre of the court, until
 +the brain grew dizzy with watching their evolutions.
 +They shouted out a song of the galleys, a slang
 +romance set sometimes to a plaintive air, and at
 +others to a gay and rollicking tune. Loud cries
 +were heard, the panting of overtasked chests, and
 +every now and then mysterious words were interchanged.
 +The clanking of the chains served as the
 +orchestra for the song, in itself more discordant than
 +its accompaniment. Should I have desired to see a
 +representation of the revels of demons, I could not
 +have selected a better or a worse example.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Large buckets were then brought into the courtyard.
 +The guards broke up the convicts’ dance with
 +blows and curses, and forced them to the buckets, in
 +which I could see a few herbs swimming in some
 +dirty smoking liquid.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='38' id='Page_38'></span>
 +Then they sat down and ate.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>After having finished their meat they threw what
 +remained upon the pavement, and recommenced
 +their songs and dances. It is the custom to relax
 +discipline a little during the day and the night upon
 +which the chain is fastened on.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I was gazing upon this strange spectacle with so
 +greedy a curiosity, and was watching its every phase
 +with such attention, that I absolutely forgot myself.
 +A deep feeling of pity crept over me, and their
 +hollow laughter made me feel inclined to weep.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>All of a sudden, in the midst of the sad reverie
 +into which I had fallen, I saw the ring of dancers
 +stop short, become perfectly silent, and then I
 +noticed that every eye was fixed upon the window
 +at which I was standing.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The condemned man! the condemned man!”
 +exclaimed they. Every finger was pointed at me, and
 +the shouts of diabolical laughter were redoubled.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I was paralyzed. I could not understand how they
 +could know me, how they could have recognized me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Good-day! good-day!” they cried, in piercing
 +accents.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>One of the youngest of the band, condemned to the
 +galleys for life, gazed upon me with an envious look,
 +and shouted, “Ah, you are in luck, for you will be
 +sliced! Farewell, comrade.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I hardly know how I felt. It was a fact, I was
 +their comrade, for the Place de Grêve is the sister of
 +the Galleys of Toulon; I even occupied a higher
 +position than they did, and they paid me homage.
 +I shuddered at the idea.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='39' id='Page_39'></span>
 +Their comrade—yes, and a few days later I should
 +in my turn furnish a spectacle for men of their
 +stamp.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I had remained spell-bound at the window,
 +motionless, and unable to collect myself; but when
 +I saw the five chains rushing towards me with expressions
 +of fiendish cordiality, when I heard the
 +clash of their chains and the tramp of their footsteps
 +close to the wall, it seemed to me as if a crowd of
 +demons were about to storm my wretched cell. I
 +uttered a loud cry, and cast myself with violence
 +against the door; but there was no means of escape,
 +for it was securely bolted without. I pressed against
 +it, I cried out in mingled terror and rage. I seemed
 +to hear the hated voices of the convicts drawing
 +nearer and nearer; I fancied that I could perceive
 +their hideous heads appear above the window-sill.
 +I uttered another cry of terror, and I fainted.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XIV.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>When</span> I came to myself it was night; I was lying
 +on a truckle-bed. By the light of a lamp which
 +hung from the ceiling I could see other beds placed
 +in lines. Then I understood that I had been brought
 +to the hospital.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>For a few seconds I remained still; I was awake,
 +but without consciousness or recollection. At any
 +other time this hospital bed in the midst of a prison
 +would have made me recoil with disgust, but I was
 +no longer the same man. The sheets were coarse
 +<span class='pageno' title='40' id='Page_40'></span>
 +to the touch, and of a grey hue; the counterpane was
 +thin and ragged; you could feel the palliasse through
 +the mattress. But what did that matter? My
 +limbs could stretch themselves freely between the
 +coarse sheets, and the bed-clothes, thin as they were,
 +drove away that terrible cold which seemed to freeze
 +my very marrow. After a short interval I went to
 +sleep again.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A great disturbance awoke me. It was broad
 +daylight. The noise came from the outside. My bed
 +was next to a window; I raised myself up to see
 +what was the cause of the noise.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The window looked upon the main courtyard of
 +the Bicêtre. It was crowded; a body of pensioners
 +had great difficulty in keeping open a narrow path
 +through the centre of the populace. Between a
 +double rank of soldiers five long waggons, filled with
 +men, jolted heavily along. The convicts were
 +starting for their destination.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The vehicles had no covering. Each chain
 +occupied one; the convicts were seated on a bench
 +running down the centre, back to back, with the
 +chains between them, and at the end stood a soldier
 +with a loaded musket. You could hear their chains
 +clank with every jolt, and their legs shake as they
 +dangled over the side of the cart.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A fine searching rain was falling, chilling the air,
 +and making their thin clothes cling to their limbs;
 +their long beards and short hair were saturated
 +with moisture, their faces were violet with the cold;
 +I could see them shiver, and hear their teeth chatter
 +with cold, and impotent rage.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='41' id='Page_41'></span>
 +Once riveted to the chain, a man ceased to
 +exist as a separate individual. He must relinquish
 +his intelligence, for the collar of the galleys condemns
 +him to a living death, and, like a mere animal,
 +he can only partially satisfy his appetite at given
 +hours. Motionless, the majority of them half-naked,
 +with bare heads and dangling feet, they commenced
 +their journey of twenty-five days’ duration. Crowded
 +together in the carts, garments of the same texture
 +serving them as a defence against the scorching sun
 +of July and the cold rains of November, it almost
 +seemed as if man were endeavouring to press the
 +elements into the post of executioner. The five
 +waggons, escorted by cavalry and infantry, passed in
 +turn through the main gateway of the Bicêtre; a sixth
 +followed, in which were heaped together small
 +boilers, copper vessels, and spare chains. A few of
 +the guards who had lingered in the canteens hurried
 +to gain their posts; the crowd melted away, and all
 +the ghastly sight vanished like a dream of the night.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The sound of the wheels and the tramp of the
 +horses grew fainter and fainter on the paved road
 +that leads to Fontainebleau; the cracking of whips,
 +the clink of chains, and the shouts of the populace
 +as they wished the galley-slaves a prosperous
 +journey, all died away. And for them this was only
 +the beginning.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>What was it my counsel said to me?</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The galleys!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Ah, yes, death a thousand times sooner than
 +that. Annihilation rather than hell. Sooner give
 +my head to the knife of Guillotine, than my neck to
 +<span class='pageno' title='42' id='Page_42'></span>
 +the galley-slave’s collar. The galleys, just Heaven,
 +never!</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XV.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Unfortunately</span> I was not ill; the next day I had
 +to leave the hospital, and once more I was relegated
 +to my cell. Not ill! In point of fact, I am young,
 +vigorous, and healthy. The blood flows freely in my
 +veins, my limbs are under perfect control, I am
 +strong in body and in intellect, made for a long life,
 +and yet I am suffering from a mental disease, a
 +disease the work of men’s hands.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Since I left the hospital, an idea has crept into my
 +brain—an idea which, when I think of it, almost
 +drives me mad. It is, that if they had left me there
 +I might have managed to escape. The doctors and
 +the Sisters of Mercy seemed to take a great interest
 +in me; I was so young for such a terrible death.
 +One would have said that they pitied me, so
 +eager were they to crowd round my bed. Bah! it
 +was mere curiosity; and though these people would
 +cure you of a fever, yet they would not cure a judicial
 +sentence of death. And yet how easy it would be!—just
 +an open door; and what harm would it do
 +them? No more chance for me now; my appeal
 +will be rejected, for everything has been done according
 +to rule: the witnesses have testified correctly,
 +the counsel have pleaded well, and the judges have
 +done their part as they should. I cannot calculate
 +on anything, unless——No! it is madness, there is
 +no more ground for hope. An appeal is a cord by
 +<span class='pageno' title='43' id='Page_43'></span>
 +which you are suspended over an abyss; you can
 +hear it cracking a long time before it breaks and
 +lets you fall. It is as though the knife of the
 +guillotine took six weeks in which to fall.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>If I could only gain my pardon—gain my pardon;
 +but how, and for what reason? It is impossible for
 +them to pardon me. All say that an example must
 +be made.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I have but three steps to take—Bicêtre, the Conciergerie,
 +and the Grêve.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XVI.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Oh</span>, if I could only escape, how I would fly across
 +the fields! Ah, but I must not run—that would
 +draw attention and make people suspicious. On the
 +contrary, I must walk slowly, with my head up,
 +humming a tune. I ought to have an old handkerchief
 +round the lower part of my face, a blue one
 +with a pattern in red on it. It is a capital disguise,
 +all the market-gardeners in the suburbs wear them.
 +I know of a little clump of trees near Arcueil, by
 +the side of a marsh. Once when I was at school I
 +came there with my playmates to fish for frogs; I
 +would hide myself there until night.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>When it grew dark I would recommence my
 +journey. I would go to Vincennes; no, the river is
 +in the way, I will go to Arpajon. Perhaps it would
 +be better to go by St. Germain, and get to Hâvre,—from
 +thence I could embark for England. Well,
 +<span class='pageno' title='44' id='Page_44'></span>
 +I come to Longjumeau; a policeman passes me, he
 +asks for my passport——I am lost!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Ah! hapless dreamer, first break through the three-foot
 +wall that surrounds you. Death! Death!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I recollect when I was quite a child they brought
 +me to Bicêtre to see the great wall, and the mad
 +people.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XVII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Whilst</span> I am writing this my lamp has grown dim;
 +the day is breaking, and the chapel clock has just
 +struck six.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>What does this mean—the warder has come into
 +my cell, he has taken off his cap, and, softening his
 +rough voice as best he can, has asked me what I
 +should like for my breakfast?</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A shiver runs through me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Is it to be done to-day?</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XVIII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Yes</span>, it is for to-day. The governor of the prison
 +has been here, and has expressed his desire to serve
 +me; has asked if I have any complaints to make
 +about him or his subordinates; has inquired with
 +much interest after my health, and how I have
 +passed the night, and on leaving me called me <span class='it'>Sir</span>!
 +It <span class='it'>is</span> for to-day.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='45' id='Page_45'></span></p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XIX.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>This</span> gaoler does not believe that I can have any fault
 +to find with him or with his subordinates. He is
 +right; it would be ungracious of me to complain—they
 +have but done their duty. They have guarded
 +me well, and they have been courteous on my
 +arrival, and on my departure. Ought I not to be
 +satisfied? This good gaoler, with his calm smile and
 +soothing words, with an eye that flatters whilst it
 +watches, with his large and powerful hands, he is the
 +incarnation of a prison—a Bicêtre transformed into
 +a man. Everything around me reminds me of a
 +prison; I recognize it in everything, in the human
 +figure, as in the iron bars and bolts: this wall is a
 +prison in stone, this door a prison in wood, these
 +turnkeys are prisoners in flesh and bone. The
 +prison is a kind of horrible being complete and indivisible,
 +half building and half man. I am its
 +victim; it grasps me, it wraps me in its folds, it shuts
 +me up in its granite walls, it padlocks me with its
 +iron bolts, and it watches me through the eyes of its
 +gaolers.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Ah! unhappy wretch that I am, what is to become
 +of me, <span class='it'>what are they going to do with me</span>?</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XX.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>I am</span> calm again. All is over, and well for me that
 +it is so. I am relieved from the terrible weight of
 +<span class='pageno' title='46' id='Page_46'></span>
 +suspense by the visit of the governor. For I confess
 +it freely, I had hoped—now I hope no longer.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This is what has taken place.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Just as half-past six struck—no, it was a quarter to
 +seven—the door of my cell opened, and an old white-haired
 +man appeared on the threshold; he threw
 +open his great-coat, and I saw from his gown that
 +he was a priest.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This priest was not the chaplain of the prison, and
 +this looked bad for me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He sat down opposite to me, shook his head, and
 +raised his eyes to heaven—that is, towards the roof of
 +my cell. I understood what he meant.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“My son,” said he, “are you prepared?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>In a feeble voice I replied, “I am not prepared,
 +but I am ready.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>But my sight grew dim; a cold sweat burst out
 +upon me. I felt my temples swell, and there was a
 +loud murmuring sound in my ears.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Whilst I swayed backwards and forwards in my
 +chair like a man asleep, the good old man was
 +talking—at least I suppose that he was, for I could
 +see his lips move, his hands wave, and his eyes
 +shine.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The door opened for the second time; the sound
 +of the withdrawal of the bolts roused me from my
 +stupor. This time it was the governor accompanied
 +by a gentleman in a black coat, who bowed to me on
 +entering; he held a roll of papers in his hands, and
 +had about him that false air of sorrow which we see
 +amongst undertakers.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Sir,” said he, “I am one of the ushers of the
 +<span class='pageno' title='47' id='Page_47'></span>
 +Courts of Justice: I have the honour to be the bearer
 +of a message from the Public Prosecutor.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The first shock was over; all my presence of mind
 +came back to me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The Public Prosecutor demands my head at once—is
 +it not so?” asked I. “What an honour for me
 +that he should write to me! I trust that my death
 +will give him great pleasure, for he worked with too
 +much ardour for it to have been a matter of indifference
 +to him.” Then in a calmer tone I added,
 +“Read, sir.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then he began a long rigmarole, intoning the last
 +word in each sentence. This was the rejection of
 +my appeal.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The sentence will be executed on the Place de
 +Grêve,” added he, as he finished, without raising his
 +eyes to mine. “We leave at half-past seven precisely
 +for the Conciergerie, my good sir; will you have
 +the extreme kindness to follow me?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>For the last few moments I had not been listening
 +to him; the governor was talking to the priest, the
 +usher’s eyes were on his papers, whilst mine were
 +fixed upon the door which had remained half opened.
 +Ah! wretch that I am, there were four soldiers in
 +the passage.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The usher repeated his question, this time looking
 +full at me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Whenever you wish,” answered I. “Suit your
 +own convenience.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He bowed, and replied that he would call for me in
 +half an hour! Then they went out, and left me alone.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Oh for some means of escape! O heavens, is there
 +<span class='pageno' title='48' id='Page_48'></span>
 +no hope? I must escape, I must on the spot—by the
 +doors, by the windows, by the roof, even if I leave
 +remnants of my flesh on the rafters and the joists.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Oh! horror, devils, curses, with good tools it would
 +take me a month to pierce these walls, and I have
 +not even a nail to work with or an hour to spare.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXI.<br/> <span style='font-size:smaller'>FROM THE CONCIERGERIE.</span></h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Here</span> I am <span class='it'>transferred</span>, as the order words it. But
 +the journey is worth the trouble of relating. Half-past
 +seven had just struck, as the usher again presented
 +himself at the door of my cell.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Sir,” said he, “I am waiting for you.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Me</span>—yes, and thousands of others.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I got up, and made a step towards him; it seemed
 +as if I could not take a second, so heavy was my
 +head, and so weak my legs. However, I made an
 +effort, and advanced tolerably firmly. Before leaving
 +I gave a farewell glance at the cell. I had grown to
 +love it; besides, I left it empty, and open, which gave
 +it a novel aspect. It will not long be so; another
 +tenant is expected this evening—so the turnkey says,
 +for the Court is now sitting, and conviction is certain.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At the end of the passage the chaplain came to
 +take leave of me; he had been to breakfast. At the
 +exit from the gaol the governor shook me affectionately
 +by the hand, and reinforced my escort with
 +four soldiers.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='49' id='Page_49'></span>
 +From the door of the hospital a dying man called
 +out “<span class='it'>Au revoir</span>.” We were in the courtyard; I drew
 +a long breath, it did me good.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>We were not in the open air for long: a carriage
 +was waiting for us—it was the same which had
 +brought me here; it was oblong in shape, and divided
 +into two compartments by iron bars standing so closely
 +together that they appeared to be interlaced. Each
 +section had a door, one in front, and one behind.
 +The vehicle was so dirty and dusty, that the hearse
 +which conveys paupers to their last resting-place is
 +a state carriage in comparison to this one. Before
 +burying myself in this tomb, I cast one glance round
 +the courtyard, one of those despairing looks before
 +which walls should crumble. There were many
 +spectators waiting for my departure, more than there
 +had been to look at the galley-slaves. As on that
 +day a light rain was falling, and would no doubt fall
 +all day—the shower would last longer than I should.
 +The roads were much cut up, and the courtyard full
 +of dirt and water. It was pleasant to see the crowd
 +tramping about in the mud.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>We got into the carriage—the usher and the
 +soldiers in front; the priest, a policeman, and myself
 +in the hindmost compartment.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Four mounted gendarmes surrounded the carriage;
 +thus, without counting the driver, there were eight
 +men to guard one poor wretch. As I got in I heard
 +an old woman say, “Well, for my part I prefer <span class='it'>that</span>
 +to the galley-slaves’ chain.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I understood her—the sight was simpler, more
 +easy to be taken in at a glance.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='50' id='Page_50'></span>
 +The carriage started; I heard the echoing sound as
 +it rolled under the main portal of the Bicêtre, whose
 +heavy gates closed behind us. I felt stupefied, like a
 +man who has fallen into a trance, who can neither
 +stir nor cry out, though he knows that they are
 +burying him alive.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I listened dreamily to the jingle of the bells in the
 +horses’ collars, the rolling of the wheels, and the
 +cadenced trot of the escort’s horses, and the crack of
 +the driver’s whip. It seemed as if I was being
 +carried away in a whirlwind.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Through the bars of a window in front of me my
 +eyes caught an inscription in large letters over the
 +Bicêtre—<span class='it'>Hospital for the Aged</span>.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Ha!” exclaimed I, “it appears then that <span class='it'>some</span>
 +people do grow old there.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>All at once the vehicle made a sudden turn, which
 +changed the scene. Now I saw the towers of Notre
 +Dame rising through the mist of Paris.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Those who have a place in the tower where the
 +flagstaff is will have a good view,” thought I.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I think that it was about this time that the priest
 +began talking again. I let him go on without interruption;
 +my ears were filled with the noise of the
 +wheels, the horses’ hoofs, and the coachman’s whip—what
 +mattered a little more noise?</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I listened then to this flow of words, which
 +soothed my feelings, like the murmur of falling
 +water, when the sharp voice of the usher broke the
 +silence.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Well, Abbé,” exclaimed he, “what news have
 +you to-day?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='51' id='Page_51'></span>
 +The chaplain, who had never ceased talking to me,
 +made no reply.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Hé, hé!</span>” resumed the usher, raising his voice to
 +drown the sound of the wheels, “what an infernal
 +carriage this is!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Infernal, indeed, for I found it so.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He continued: “It is the jolting and the rumbling,
 +no doubt, that prevents your hearing me—what was
 +I saying? Ah! your reverence, have you heard to-day’s
 +news that is exciting all Paris?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I trembled; was he speaking of me?</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“No,” answered the priest, who had at last heard
 +him, “I have not had time to read the morning
 +papers; but I suppose I shall see it all in the
 +evening. When I am much engaged, I tell our
 +porter to keep them for me, and I read them on my
 +return.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What!” exclaimed the usher; “is it possible
 +that you have not heard the news of this morning—the
 +news that is convulsing Paris?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I interrupted him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I think that I know it.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The usher stared at me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You! well, really, what do you say to it?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You are too curious,” replied I.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Why so, sir?” answered the usher. “Every
 +one has his own opinion regarding politics, and I
 +respect you too much not to presume that you have
 +yours. For my part I am entirely in favour of the
 +reconstruction of the National Guard; I was the
 +sergeant of my company, and faith, it was most
 +pleasant——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='52' id='Page_52'></span>
 +I interrupted him again.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It was not that I had imagined which caused
 +the excitement, but something else.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What was it then? You said you knew it.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I was referring to something else that Paris was
 +thinking of to-day.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The idiot did not yet understand me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Some more news! How on earth did you
 +manage to pick them up? Can you guess what it
 +can be, your reverence? Come, pray let me know.
 +You cannot imagine how fond I am of a piece of
 +news. I will repeat it to the President, it will
 +amuse him.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>And he uttered a hundred more platitudes, turning
 +to the priest and to myself. I shrugged my
 +shoulders.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Well,” continued he, “what are you thinking of?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I was thinking,” answered I, “that I shall think
 +no more this evening!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Ah! that is what is troubling you; you are cast
 +down. Come, cheer up; Mr. Castaing talked all the
 +way.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then, after a pause, he continued: “I escorted
 +Mr. Papavoine; he wore his otter-skin cap, and
 +smoked all the way. As to those young people from
 +Rochelle, they talked to each other the whole time.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Madmen, enthusiasts,” he added, “they appeared
 +to despise all the world; but really, my young
 +friend, you are too sad.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Young!” answered I, bitterly; “I am older
 +than you. Each quarter of an hour as it passes
 +adds a year to my age.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='53' id='Page_53'></span>
 +He turned round and looked at me for a few
 +seconds with unfeigned surprise.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You are joking—older than I am; why I might
 +be your grandfather.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I was not joking,” answered I, gravely.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He opened his snuff-box.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“There, my dear sir, do not be angry, and do not
 +bear me a grudge.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I shall not bear it long,” was my reply.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At this moment the snuff-box, which he had placed
 +against the barred division, was shaken from his
 +hand by a violent jolt of the vehicle, and fell at his
 +feet.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Confound the bars!” cried he. “Am I not unlucky?
 +I have lost all my snuff!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I am losing more than you,” answered I, with a
 +smile.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He endeavoured to pick up the snuff, grumbling to
 +himself.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Losing more than me! that is easy to say; not
 +a grain of snuff until I get to Paris; it is awful!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The chaplain condoled with him on his loss; and,
 +whether it was that I was preoccupied or not, I do
 +not know, but it seemed to me as if this consolation
 +fitted very well with the exhortation that he had
 +commenced to me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Little by little the conversation between the priest
 +and the usher increased, whilst I buried myself in
 +my own thoughts.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>As we passed the barrier, the noise of the great
 +city seemed louder than usual.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The vehicle stopped a moment at the office of the
 +<span class='pageno' title='54' id='Page_54'></span>
 +Customs whilst the officers examined it. If it had
 +been an ox or a sheep that was being taken to the
 +slaughter-house a fee would have to have been paid,
 +but man goes free.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The boulevard once passed, we plunged into those
 +old winding streets of the Cité and the Faubourg
 +St. Marceau, which intersect each other like the
 +paths of an ant-hill. On the stone-paved roadway
 +of their streets the noise of the vehicle was so
 +deafening that it drowned all exterior sounds.
 +When I glanced through the little window it seemed
 +to me as if the passers-by stopped to gaze after the
 +carriage, whilst crowds of children followed at a run.
 +At the crossings I could see ragged men and women
 +holding in their hands bundles of newspapers which
 +were eagerly purchased by the crowd.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Half-past eight sounded from the palace clocks as
 +we arrived in the courtyard of the <span class='it'>Conciergerie</span>. The
 +sight of the wide staircase, the gloomy chapel, and
 +the sinister-looking wickets froze my blood. When
 +the carriage stopped, I thought that my heart too
 +would stop beating.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I summoned up my courage. The door was
 +thrown open like a flash of lightning; I leapt from
 +my rolling dungeon, and found myself under an archway
 +between two ranks of soldiers. A curious crowd
 +had already collected to watch my arrival.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>As</span> long as I walked through the public passages of
 +the Courts of Justice, I felt almost free and at my
 +<span class='pageno' title='55' id='Page_55'></span>
 +ease, but my courage almost failed me when a low
 +door opened, and I was led through gloomy corridors
 +and down secret staircases—places where only
 +the condemned and their judges are permitted to
 +enter.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The usher was still with me. The priest had left
 +me promising to return in two hours, as he had
 +some business to do.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I was led to the offices of the governor, to whom
 +the usher handed me over. After all it was a mere
 +exchange, for the governor begged him to wait for a
 +few moments, as he had some <span class='it'>game</span> to give him
 +which was to be taken back to the Bicêtre at once.
 +No doubt this was the newly-condemned criminal;
 +he who was to sleep in my cell upon the truss of
 +straw which I had hardly used.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Good!” answered the usher, “I will wait a
 +moment, and we can draw up the documents for
 +both of them at the same time.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Whilst this was being done I was placed in a
 +small room adjoining the director’s office, the door of
 +which was securely fastened.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I do not know how long I had been there, or,
 +indeed, of what I was thinking, when a violent burst
 +of laughter close to my ear aroused me from my
 +reverie. I started and looked up; I was not alone,
 +there was a man with me—a man of about fifty-five
 +years of age, of middle height, wrinkled, bent, and
 +grey-haired, strongly built, with a sinister expression
 +in his eyes, and a mocking smile upon his lips, dirty,
 +ragged, and disgusting to the sight.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The door had been opened, and he had been thrust
 +<span class='pageno' title='56' id='Page_56'></span>
 +in without my having perceived it. Would death
 +come thus to me?</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This man and I gazed earnestly at each other for
 +some moments, he continuing his sinister chuckle,
 +which had something convulsive in it, and I half
 +alarmed and wholly surprised.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Who are you?” exclaimed I, at length.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“A nice question to ask,” answered he. “I am
 +<span class='it'>booked through</span>.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What is that?” I inquired.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It means,” cried he, with another burst of laughter,
 +“that in six weeks the knife will chop my nut
 +into the sack, as it will yours in about six hours.
 +Ha, ha! you understand me now, it seems.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He was right. I turned pale, and my hair stood
 +on end, for here was the other condemned man of
 +to-day, my heir at the Bicêtre.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He continued—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Well, this is my history. I am the son of a
 +good old prig, and it was a pity that Charlot<a id='r1'/><a href='#f1' style='text-decoration:none'><sup><span style='font-size:0.9em'>[1]</span></sup></a> strung
 +him up by the neck: that was when the gallows
 +was an institution. At six years of age I was an
 +orphan, and used to pick up a few coppers in the
 +spring by turning head over heels by the sides of
 +the carriages. In winter I used to run about with
 +my naked feet in the mud, blowing my fingers, all
 +red with the cold, and showing my bare skin through
 +the holes in my trousers. At nine I began to use
 +my fingers, and from time to time I would empty
 +a fob, or prig a cloak; and at ten I was a thoroughbred
 +prig. Then I began to get pals round me. At
 +<span class='pageno' title='57' id='Page_57'></span>
 +seventeen I was a cracksman and cracked a crib, but
 +they caught me, and I was lagged. The galleys did
 +not suit my complaint: black bread and cold water,
 +a plank bed, and a cannon-ball to drag after me, not
 +to mention blows of a stick, and a scorching sun;
 +besides that they shaved me, and I used to have fine
 +chestnut hair. But I did my time—fifteen years.
 +I was thirty-two when they gave me the yellow passport
 +and sixty-six francs, which I had earned during
 +my fifteen years, working hard sixteen hours daily,
 +thirty days in the month, and twelve months in the
 +year. Well, there it was. I wanted to be an honest
 +man with my sixty-six francs, and I had finer sentiments
 +under my rags than you would find under
 +many a priest’s frock. But may the devil fly away
 +with the passport, for it was yellow, and in it was
 +written, ‘Released Convict.’... I had to show that
 +wherever I went, and to report myself every eighth
 +day to the mayor of the village where they had
 +assigned me a residence. An ex-galley-slave, a
 +nice kind of recommendation! Every one shunned
 +me; the little kids bolted when they saw me coming,
 +and every door was shut in my nose. I could not
 +get a day’s work, and my sixty-six francs were soon
 +eaten, and I wanted to live. I showed my strong
 +arms, and offered a day’s work for fifteen sous, for
 +ten sous, for five sous, and could get nothing. What
 +was I to do? One day, when I was hungry, I
 +smashed a baker’s window with my elbow and stole
 +a loaf of bread. I was not allowed to eat the bread,
 +but I was sent to the galleys for life, with a brand on
 +my shoulders which I will show you if you like. And
 +<span class='pageno' title='58' id='Page_58'></span>
 +they call that justice. There I was, a returned lag.
 +They sent me to Toulon, this time with a green cap.<a id='r2'/><a href='#f2' style='text-decoration:none'><sup><span style='font-size:0.9em'>[2]</span></sup></a>
 +I made up my mind to escape. I had three walls to
 +break through, the chains to cut; but I had a nail
 +to do it with. I escaped. They fired the gun, and
 +all were on the alert. We are dressed in red like
 +the cardinals, and they fire a salute when we go out.
 +The powder went to kill the sparrows as far as
 +I know. This time there was no yellow passport,
 +and no money. I made my way back to some old
 +pals who had done time themselves, and filled their
 +pockets often enough. Their boss proposed a bit of
 +high Toby. I was on like a shot, and I began to
 +murder for a living. Sometimes it was a stage-coach,
 +at others a post-chaise; sometimes a cattle merchant.
 +We took their money, and we left the
 +carriage and horses alone, and buried the man under
 +a tree, taking care that his toes should not show;
 +and then we jumped on the grave so that the newly-turned
 +earth should attract no notice. I grew old
 +at this game, hiding in the thickets—sleeping under
 +the stars—tracked from wood to wood, but at least
 +I was free. Everything comes to an end, however,
 +and one day the slops put their fingers on my collar;
 +my pals hooked it, and I remained with the chaps
 +with the gold-laced hats. Well, they brought me
 +here. I had climbed every rung of the ladder except
 +one. I had got from prigging a wipe to cutting a
 +throat, and there was no medium for me except the
 +three-cornered knife. Well, well! my father had
 +his cravat tied in public, and I shall make a first
 +<span class='pageno' title='59' id='Page_59'></span>
 +and last appearance in the Place de Grêve. That is
 +all, my lad!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I was horror-struck at his recital. He laughed
 +louder than ever, and tried to take my hand. I
 +shrunk away from him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“My friend,” said he, “you do not appear to have
 +much pluck. Try and die game. You have a few
 +unpleasant moments on the scaffold, but that is soon
 +over. I wish that I could show you how to make
 +the last jump properly. I should be glad if they
 +would shave me as well as you to-day. The same
 +priest would serve us both, and you might have him
 +first if you like. You see that I am a good-natured
 +devil.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He again made a step towards me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Sir,” said I, pushing him back, “I thank you.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>There was a fresh burst of laughter at my reply.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Sir! Sir yourself if you come to that. Why, you
 +must be a marquis at the least.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I interrupted him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Leave me alone, my friend; I want to collect
 +myself.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The gravity of my speech made him serious for an
 +instant. He shook his grey head, which was almost
 +bald, and thrust his hand into his open shirt-front.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I understand,” muttered he; “you are expecting
 +the parson.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then after gazing at me for a few seconds—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Look here,” said he, timidly, “you are a marquis,
 +that is all right; but you have a fine great-coat there,
 +and it will not be of any use to you soon. Give it to
 +me, and I will sell it for tobacco.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='60' id='Page_60'></span>
 +I took off my coat and gave it to him; he clapped
 +his hands like a pleased child. Then, noticing that
 +I was shivering in my shirt-sleeves, “You are cold,”
 +cried he; “it rains, and you will get wet. Put this
 +on; besides, you ought to look respectable;” and
 +whilst speaking, he took off his coarse woollen vest
 +and thrust it into my hands.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I permitted him to do so, and then I leaned against
 +the wall. I cannot tell you the effect that this man
 +had on me. He had put on my great-coat, and was
 +examining it with all attention, uttering every now
 +and then cries of delight.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The pockets are quite new,” exclaimed he; “the
 +collar is hardly soiled. I shall get at least fifteen
 +francs for it. What happiness! tobacco for the next
 +six weeks!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Again the door opened. They came to take both
 +of us away; to lead me to the chamber where the
 +condemned await their last hour, and to remove him
 +to the Bicêtre. He was placed in the midst of the
 +escort, and went off laughing and saying—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Now then, no mistakes. The gentleman and
 +I have changed our skins, but I am not going to
 +change places with him, now that I have tobacco
 +for the next six weeks.”</p>
 +
 +<hr class='footnotemark'/>
 +
 +<div class='footnote'>
 +<table summary='footnote_1'>
 +<colgroup>
 +<col span='1' style='width: 3em;'/>
 +<col span='1'/>
 +</colgroup>
 +<tr><td style='vertical-align:top;'>
 +<div id='f1'><a href='#r1'>[1]</a></div>
 +</td><td>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The hangman.</p>
 +
 +</td></tr>
 +</table>
 +</div>
 +
 +<div class='footnote'>
 +<table summary='footnote_2'>
 +<colgroup>
 +<col span='1' style='width: 3em;'/>
 +<col span='1'/>
 +</colgroup>
 +<tr><td style='vertical-align:top;'>
 +<div id='f2'><a href='#r2'>[2]</a></div>
 +</td><td>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The green cap was a sign of penal servitude for life.</p>
 +
 +</td></tr>
 +</table>
 +</div>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXIII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> old scoundrel, he has taken my great-coat, for
 +I did not give it to him, and he has left me this rag,
 +this disgusting garment. What will people think
 +of me?</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='61' id='Page_61'></span>
 +Did I let him have my great-coat from carelessness,
 +or from charity? Not a bit; but because he
 +was stronger than I was, and had I not given it
 +he would have beaten me with those sledge-hammer
 +fists of his.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Not an atom of charity in it. I was filled with
 +evil thoughts. I could have strangled the old thief;
 +I could have trampled him under foot. I feel that
 +my heart is full of rage and bitterness, as if my very
 +gall-bladder had burst. Approaching death brings up
 +many evil thoughts and feelings.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXIV.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>They</span> have taken me into a bare cell, of course with
 +any amount of bars in the windows and bolts on the
 +door. I have asked for a table and a chair, and the
 +means of writing. They have brought them. Then
 +I asked for a bed. The gaoler cast a look of surprise
 +upon me, which seemed to say, “What is the good
 +of it to you?” However, they have arranged a
 +trestle-bed in the corner; but at the same time
 +a policeman has taken up his position in my room.
 +Are they afraid that I shall strangle myself with the
 +mattress?</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXV.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>It</span> is ten o’clock.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Oh! my poor little daughter, in six hours I shall
 +be dead. I shall be a foul thing that they will lay
 +<span class='pageno' title='62' id='Page_62'></span>
 +upon the table at the College of Surgeons; upon one
 +side they will take a mould of my head, upon the
 +other they will dissect my body; then what remains
 +of me they will put into a coffin, and expedite it to
 +the cemetery of Clamont. That is what these men
 +will do to your father. None of them hate me; all
 +pity me, and all could save me; and yet they are
 +going to kill me. Do you understand that, Marie?
 +They will kill me in cold blood, in all due form, for
 +the good that it will do. Oh, great heaven!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Poor little child! Your father who loves you so
 +much, who kisses your little white and perfumed
 +neck, who passes his fingers through the silky curls
 +of your hair, who takes your sweet little face in his
 +hand, who dances you on his knee, and at bedtime
 +joins your little hands together, and teaches you to
 +pray to God. Who will do this for you now? Who
 +will love you? All children of your age will have
 +fathers except you. How you will miss, my dear child,
 +the New Year’s gifts, the presents, the pretty play-things,
 +the sugar-plums, and the kisses! You unhappy
 +orphan, you may have to give up eating and
 +drinking!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Ah! if the jury could only have seen my little
 +Marie, they would have thought twice before killing
 +the father of a child of three years old. And when
 +she grows up, if she lives long enough, what will
 +become of her? Her father will be one of the recollections
 +of Paris. She will blush for me and my
 +name. She will be despised and repulsed on all sides.
 +Disgraced on my account who love her with all the
 +tenderness of which my heart is capable. Oh, my
 +<span class='pageno' title='63' id='Page_63'></span>
 +well-beloved little Marie, can it be true that you will
 +ever hold me in shame and horror?</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Wretch! what crime have I committed, and what
 +crime have I made society commit?</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Can it be true that I shall be dead before the end
 +of to-day? Is this really me? That dull sound that
 +I hear outside, the crowds of people that are flocking
 +along the quay, the gendarmes paraded in their
 +barracks, the priest in his black robe, the man with
 +the red-stained hands! Is all this for me? Is it
 +I that am going to die—I, who am sitting here at
 +this table, who lives, who feels, who breathes? Yes,
 +it is I. I know it by the sense of touch, and by the
 +creases I can make on my clothes.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXVI.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>I know</span> something of it.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I was driving by the Place de Grêve once, about
 +eleven o’clock in the morning. All of a sudden the
 +carriage stopped.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>There was a crowd in the square. I put my head
 +out of the door. Many women and children were
 +standing in the parapets of the quay. Above their
 +heads I could see a species of red scaffold which some
 +workmen were putting together.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A man was to be executed that day, and they were
 +erecting the machine.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I turned away my head as this caught my eye. I
 +heard a woman near me saying, “Look! the knife
 +does not slide well, they are greasing the groove with
 +a bit of candle!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='64' id='Page_64'></span>
 +Probably they are doing that now. Eleven o’clock
 +is just striking. No doubt they are greasing the
 +groove.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Ah! miserable wretch, this time I shall not turn
 +away my head!</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXVII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Oh</span>, my pardon, my pardon! perhaps I shall be reprieved.
 +The king may interfere. Let them run and
 +fetch my counsel to me; quick, my counsel! I choose
 +the galleys; five years should settle it; or twenty
 +years; or a brand with the red-hot iron: but let me
 +have my life! A convict lives, moves, goes and
 +comes, and sees the bright sun in the heavens.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> priest has come back to me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He has white hair, a gentle manner, and a benevolent
 +face. Indeed, I have heard that he is a really
 +good and charitable man. This morning I saw him
 +distribute the contents of his purse amongst the
 +prisoners. But his exhortations have no effect on
 +me. I was callous to all that he could say, his words
 +slided from my mind as cold rain from a frozen
 +window-pane.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>However, his reappearance gave me pleasure.
 +Amongst all those who surround me, he is the only
 +one who still looks upon me as a man, and I am
 +thirsting for kind and cheering words.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='65' id='Page_65'></span>
 +We sat down, he on my chair, I on the bed.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“My son,” commenced he. These words went at
 +once straight to my heart. He continued, “Do you
 +believe in God?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, father,” I replied.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Do you believe in the Holy Roman Catholic
 +and Apostolic Church?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Certainly,” answered I.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“My son,” observed he, “I fear that you are a
 +waverer.” Then he began to speak again. He talked
 +for a long time; then when he fancied that he had
 +said enough, he for the first time raised his eyes to
 +mine as if to question me mutely.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Well?” asked he.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I declare that I had listened to him first with eagerness,
 +then with attention, and lastly with reverence.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I got up from my seat.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Sir,” said I, “leave me alone, I entreat of you.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“When shall I return?” asked he.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I will let you know.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then he left me without another word, shaking
 +his head, as though he were saying to himself:</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“An infidel!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>No, low as I have fallen, I am not an infidel. My
 +God is my witness that I believe in Him. But what
 +has this old man been able to say to me? Nothing
 +that I have felt, nothing that has touched me,
 +nothing that has drawn tears from my eyes, nothing
 +which goes from his soul direct to mine. On the
 +contrary, what he has said to me he might say to
 +any one else, emphasizing his words when his argument
 +had need of depth, full of platitudes when it
 +<span class='pageno' title='66' id='Page_66'></span>
 +should have been most simple, a kind of sentimental
 +sermon and theological elegy. Here and there he
 +put in a Latin quotation from Saint Gregory, Saint
 +Austin, or some one else. He had the air of a man
 +who repeats a lesson that he has said many times
 +before, and which, though half forgotten and obliterated
 +from his memory, returns again to him from the
 +fact of his having known it long years before. There
 +is no expression in his eye, no emphasis in his
 +voice; nor do his features add to the power of his
 +oratory.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>And how could it be otherwise? This priest is the
 +prison chaplain. His duty is to console and to exhort;
 +he lives by that. He has grown old in preparing
 +men for the scaffold. For many years he has made
 +others tremble, whilst his white hairs never bristle at
 +the horrors that he is a witness of. For him the
 +scaffold and the galley are matters of every-day life.
 +They bore him. Probably he keeps a book of sermons—such
 +and such a page for those sentenced to
 +death, and another for those in penal servitude. To-day
 +he was warned that some one would require the
 +consolations of religion. He asked whether it was
 +a condemned criminal or a galley-slave, and, upon
 +receiving the reply, turned to the necessary page,
 +refreshed his memory, and came here.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Oh! if instead of sending for him they had sought
 +out some young vicar, some old priest from a remote
 +parish sitting in his chimney corner reading his book,
 +and not expecting the summons; and saying to him:
 +“There is a man about to die, come and console
 +him. You will have to be with him when they bind
 +<span class='pageno' title='67' id='Page_67'></span>
 +his hands and cut his hair; you must ride in the
 +cart with him, and with the crucifix hide the headsman
 +from his sight; you will be jolting against him
 +on the road to La Grêve; you will pass with him
 +through the terrible crowd thirsting for his blood; you
 +will take leave of him at the foot of the scaffold, and
 +will remain in waiting until his head is in one place
 +and his body in another.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then when they bring me into his presence
 +trembling from head to foot, when I embrace him
 +and clasp his knees, he will weep; we shall mingle
 +our tears together; he will wax eloquent, and I shall
 +be consoled; my heart will soften to his words, he will
 +take charge of my soul, and I shall rely on his God.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>But this old man, what is he to me? What am
 +I to him? A man of the lowest class, a shadow
 +many of which he has seen, a mere unit added to
 +the figures in the list of executions.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I was wrong, perhaps, to send him away as I did;
 +it was he who behaved well, whilst I acted wrongly.
 +It is my breath, that destroys and blasts everything
 +around me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>They have brought me refreshment, fancying that
 +I must be in need of it; a nice enough luncheon—a
 +fowl, and something else, but after the first mouthful
 +I have been unable to eat—everything tasted full of
 +bitterness and corruption.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXIX.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>A man</span> has just come in with his hat on; he produced
 +a foot-rule from his pocket, and commenced
 +<span class='pageno' title='68' id='Page_68'></span>
 +measuring the stonework of the wall, murmuring to
 +himself, “It is so;” and again, “No, that will not do.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I asked the gendarme who this was. It appears
 +that he is a sort of assistant architect employed in
 +the prison.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He seemed to feel some curiosity about me, for he
 +whispered a few inquiries to the turnkey who accompanied
 +him; then he fixed his eyes upon me, and,
 +shaking his head in a careless manner, began to talk
 +in a loud voice, and continued his measurements.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>When his work was over he approached me, and
 +said in a strident voice—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“My good friend, in six months this prison will be
 +greatly improved.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>But his manner seemed to imply, “It is a pity you
 +will be unable to enjoy it.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He smiled blandly, and I really thought that he
 +was going to rally me, as you might a young bride
 +on her nuptial morning.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The gendarme in charge of me, an old soldier with
 +several good-conduct stripes, took upon himself to
 +reply.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Sir,” said he, “you must not talk so loud in the
 +Chamber of Death.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The architect left the room, but I remained there
 +as dumb as one of the stones that he had been
 +measuring.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXX.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Then</span> a ridiculous incident occurred. The good old
 +gendarme was relieved, and I, selfish wretch, had not
 +<span class='pageno' title='69' id='Page_69'></span>
 +even shaken hands with him. The new sentinel was
 +a man of vulgar features, bull-eyed, with a foolish
 +expression in his face.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I paid no attention to him. I had turned my
 +back to the door, and, seated at the table, was
 +pressing my hand to my forehead. A light tap upon
 +my shoulder caused me to turn my head. The fresh
 +guard and I were alone.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This is something the way in which he began the
 +conversation, “Criminal, have you a kind heart?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“No,” answered I.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The sharpness of my reply seemed to disconcert
 +him, but he began again after a moment’s hesitation—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“But one is not wicked for the pleasure of being
 +so!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Why not?” answered I. “If you have nothing
 +better to say than that, leave me in peace. What
 +are you aiming at?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Forgive me, criminal,” replied he. “Suppose
 +that you could ensure the happiness of a poor fellow
 +without its costing you anything, would you not do
 +so?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I shrugged my shoulders.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Have you come from a madhouse? You choose
 +a strange moment to ask a favour. Why should I
 +consult any one’s happiness?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He lowered his voice in a mysterious manner,
 +which accorded ill with his idiotic expression.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, criminal, happiness for me, fortune for me,
 +and all coming from you. Look here, I am a poor
 +gendarme. The work is hard, and the pay light.
 +The keep of my horse ruins me; so I put into the
 +<span class='pageno' title='70' id='Page_70'></span>
 +lottery to try and square myself. One must have
 +an object in life. Up to this time I have failed to
 +gain a prize because I have never chosen a lucky
 +number. I seek for them in sure places, but am
 +always a little wrong. If I stake on 76, 77 is sure to
 +come up. I do all that I can, but the right one will
 +never come up. A moment’s patience, please; I am
 +nearly at the end. Here is a lucky chance for me.
 +It appears, criminal—forgive me—that it is all up
 +with you to-day. It is a well-known fact that those
 +who die as you do, see the lucky number in advance.
 +Promise me that you will come to me to-morrow
 +evening—it will be no trouble for you to do so—and
 +to give me three numbers, three good ones. Will
 +you, eh? I am not afraid of ghosts, so be easy.
 +Here is my address: Cassine Popincourt, Staircase
 +A, No. 26, at the bottom of the passage. You will
 +remember that, will you not? Come this evening if
 +that is more convenient.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I should have disdained to answer this fool, if a
 +mad hope had not sprung up in my heart. In the
 +desperate position in which I was placed, it seemed
 +as if I might be able to break my chain with a slender
 +reed like this.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Listen,” said I, playing my part as well as I
 +could, “I can render you richer than a king; I can
 +give you millions, on one condition.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He opened his dull eyes.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What is it? what is it? anything that you
 +wish.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Instead of three numbers you shall have four.
 +Change clothes with me.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='71' id='Page_71'></span>
 +“Is that all?” exclaimed he, hurriedly unbuttoning
 +his uniform.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I got up from my seat. I watched all his movements—my
 +heart beat; already I saw all doors
 +opening before the uniform of a gendarme, and the
 +Conciergerie left far behind me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Suddenly he stopped, with an air of hesitation.
 +“Ah! you want to get out of this?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Of course,” I replied; “but your fortune is
 +made.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He interrupted me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Ah, no, that will not do; how could the numbers
 +be worth anything if you were not dead?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I sat down in silence; all hope had fled, and again
 +I was plunged in despair.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXXI.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>I closed</span> my eyes, and covered them with my hands,
 +striving to forget the present in the past. As I pondered,
 +the recollections of my childhood came back to
 +me, soft, calm, and smiling like islands of flowers, in
 +the black gulf of confused thoughts which turned
 +and twisted in my brain.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I could see myself once again, a laughing schoolboy,
 +playing, running, and shouting to my brothers,
 +in the green avenues of the neglected garden of the
 +home where my earlier years were spent. And then,
 +four years later, I was there—still a child, but full of
 +dreams and sentiments. But there was a girl with
 +me in the lonely garden.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='72' id='Page_72'></span>
 +A little Spaniard, with large eyes and long hair,
 +olive-tinted skin, red lips and cheeks, an Andalusian,
 +fourteen years of age, called Pepa. Our mothers
 +had told us to run about together in the garden; we
 +came out and walked about. They had told us to
 +play, but we preferred to talk, children of the same
 +age but different sex.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>For more than a year we had been in the habit of
 +playing and quarrelling together. I disputed with
 +Pepita for the ripest apple on the tree, and I once
 +struck her for the possession of a bird’s nest. She
 +wept, and I said, “Serves you right,” and we both
 +ran to complain to our mothers, who openly blamed
 +me, but in their inmost heart each thought that her
 +own child was right.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Now she is leaning on my arm; I feel proud and
 +happy. We are walking slowly, and conversing in
 +low tones. She lets her handkerchief drop, I pick it
 +up for her; our hands tremble as they meet. She is
 +talking to me of the little birds, of the sun that we
 +see over there setting in crimson behind the trees, of
 +her schoolmates, of her dress, of her ribbons. We
 +talk of the most innocent things, and yet we blush;
 +the child has become a young girl.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>It was a summer’s evening; we were under the
 +chestnut-trees at the bottom of the garden.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>After one of those long intervals of silence which
 +occurred so often in our walks, she suddenly let go of
 +my arm, and cried, “Let us run.” And she started
 +off in front of me, her figure slender as a wasp’s, her
 +little feet raising her dress half-way up the leg. I
 +pursued her; she fled. As she dashed along the wind
 +<span class='pageno' title='73' id='Page_73'></span>
 +raised her tippet, and showed the olive-tinted hue of
 +her neck.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I was beside myself; I caught her just by the
 +ruined well. As the winner I seized her by the waist,
 +and drew her down upon a bank of turf. She was
 +out of breath, and laughing. I was quite serious,
 +and gazed into her dark eyes, half-veiled by her
 +black lashes.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Sit there,” said she to me; “there is plenty of
 +daylight, let us read. Have you a book?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I had with me the second volume of the “Travels of
 +Spalanzani.” I opened it at hazard, and moved close
 +to her; she rested her shoulder against mine, and we
 +began to read upon the same page. Before turning
 +the page she had always to wait for me. Her intellect
 +ran quicker than mine did.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Have you finished?” she asked, when I had
 +hardly begun.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Our heads touched, our hair mingled together, and
 +our respirations crossed each other, and then our lips
 +met.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>When we wished to begin reading again, the sky
 +was studded with stars.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, mamma, mamma!” she exclaimed as she
 +entered the house, “how we have been running!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I kept silence.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You say nothing, my boy,” said my mother.
 +“You look sad.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>My heart was full of bliss.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I shall remember that evening until the last day
 +of my life.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>The last day of my life!</span></p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='74' id='Page_74'></span></p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXXII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Some</span> hour has struck—I do not know which. I can
 +hardly hear the sound; there is a buzzing in my ears,
 +it is my last thoughts that are working in my brain.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At this last moment I fall back upon my recollections.
 +I look upon my crime with horror, but I wish
 +for a longer time for repentance. I had more feelings
 +of remorse before my condemnation; since, it
 +seems that there is room for nothing except the
 +thoughts of death. When my thoughts turn for a
 +moment to my past life, they veer round to the axe
 +which will shortly terminate all, and I shiver as if
 +the idea was a new one. My happy childhood, my
 +glorious youth, the end of which is to be stained
 +with my blood. Between that and the present there
 +is a river of blood, another’s and mine. If any one
 +ever reads my life, they will not believe in this fatal
 +year, which opens with a crime, and closes with a
 +shameful punishment. It would be impossible to
 +credit it.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A sanguinary law, O cruel men—and yet I was
 +not naturally wicked.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>To die in a few hours, and to think that there was
 +a time when I was free and pure, when I wandered
 +under the trees, when I walked upon the leaf-strewn
 +paths.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>At</span> this very time there is, in the houses around the
 +place in which I am, men who come and go, who
 +<span class='pageno' title='75' id='Page_75'></span>
 +laugh and talk, who read the paper and talk over
 +their affairs, tradesmen who sell, young girls who are
 +working at their ball-dresses, and mothers who are
 +playing with their children.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>I recollect</span> one day, when I was a child, going to
 +see the peal of bells of Notre Dame. I was already
 +dizzy with having mounted the dark winding staircase,
 +and having crossed the narrow gallery which
 +connects the two towers of the cathedral, and saw
 +Paris stretching beneath my feet; then I entered the
 +belfry where hangs the bell, and its clapper which
 +weighs I know not how many pounds.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I advanced hesitatingly over the uneven flooring,
 +gazing at the bell so celebrated amongst the children
 +and the people of Paris, and remarked, not without a
 +feeling of terror, that the sloping tile roofs were on a
 +level with my feet; and I took a bird’s-eye view of the
 +place of Paris—Notre Dame, and the passers-by looking
 +like a swarm of ants. All of a sudden the heavy
 +bell rang, a vibration shook the air and made the
 +lofty tower quiver. The planking trembled on the
 +beams. Affrighted, I threw myself upon the flooring,
 +and clasped it with my two hands, speechless and
 +breathless, with that tremendous pealing in my ears,
 +whilst under my very eyes was that tremendous
 +precipice where so many people were passing in
 +calm and quiet. Well, it seems that I am still in
 +the belfry tower. Everything seems to be buzzing
 +<span class='pageno' title='76' id='Page_76'></span>
 +and humming around me, there is a sound of bells
 +beating on my brain; and around me, as across an
 +abyss, I can see that calm and peaceful life that I
 +have quitted where men walk peacefully to and fro.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXXV.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> Hotel de Ville is a sinister-looking edifice with
 +its pointed roof, and its strange-looking clock with a
 +white face, its staircases worn by the feet of many
 +passers-by. There are two arches on the left and
 +right. There it stands facing the Place de Grêve,
 +sombre and melancholy, its front worn away by age,
 +and so dark that even in the sunshine it looks black.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>On the day of an execution gendarmes issue in
 +crowds from all the doors, and its hundreds of windows
 +gaze sternly upon the condemned man. In the
 +evening the face of the illuminated clock shows
 +brilliant against its gloomy walls.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>It</span> is a quarter past one.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This is how I feel. A violent headache and cold
 +in the extremities, and a burning forehead. Each
 +time that I rise or bend it seems to me as if some
 +liquid which floats in my skull drives my brain
 +against the top of my head.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I have nervous tremblings, and every now and
 +then the pen falls from my hands as though I had
 +sustained a galvanic shock.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='77' id='Page_77'></span>
 +My eyes water as if I were in a smoky room.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I have a pain in my elbows.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>But in two hours and forty-five minutes I shall be
 +cured.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>There</span> are those who say that the pain is nothing,
 +that I shall hardly suffer at all, that science has
 +made death very easy.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>What then is this six weeks’ torment that I have
 +suffered, and this death agony for a whole day?
 +What will be said of this day that goes so slowly,
 +and yet too quickly? What is this ladder of torture
 +that leads to the scaffold?</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Perhaps they do not call this suffering.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Are not there the same convulsions when the blood
 +oozes out drop by drop, and the intellect weakens as
 +each thought grows less coherent?</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>And so there is no suffering. Are they sure?
 +Who has told them so? Has there ever been an
 +instance of a severed head which has risen bleeding
 +to the edge of the basket, and has cried to the populace,
 +“It has not hurt me a bit!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Have any dead returned to thank the inventor, and
 +to say, “It is a splendid invention, the mechanism
 +is good. Stick to it?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>No, nothing of the kind—in a minute, in a second
 +the thing is done. Have they ever, even in thought,
 +put themselves in the place of the criminal, when the
 +heavy knife falls, bites into the flesh, grinds through
 +the nerves and shivers the vertebræ? But all pain is
 +over in half a second. Horror!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='78' id='Page_78'></span></p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>It</span> is strange that I can think of nothing but the king.
 +It is no use trying to drive it away; a voice in my
 +ears keeps on crying: “At this very moment he is
 +in this city, not far from here, in another palace—a
 +man who, too, has guards at all his doors, a man in
 +a similar position to yourself, except that he is in the
 +highest whilst you are in the lowest. Every instant
 +of his life is nothing but glory, grandeur, delight, and
 +revelry. Around him congregate love, respect, and
 +veneration. The loudest voice softens as it speaks
 +to him, and the haughtiest heads incline. Gold and
 +silk are ever before his eyes. Now he may be holding
 +a council of his ministers, all of whom are of his
 +opinion; or he may be going out hunting, and to a
 +ball this evening, leaving to others the work of preparing
 +his pleasures.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Well, this man is flesh and blood as I am, and one
 +stroke of his pen would make this horrible scaffold
 +disappear, and restore me to life, liberty, family,
 +and wealth. And he is kind, they say, and would
 +gladly do so; but yet nothing will be done.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXXIX.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>But</span> let me be courageous with death, let me grasp
 +the horrible idea and consider it face to face. Let
 +us ask it what it really is, let it tell us what its
 +wishes are; let us turn it over in every way and spell
 +out the puzzle, gazing forwards into the tomb.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='79' id='Page_79'></span>
 +I imagine that when my eyes are closed, I shall
 +see a bottomless abyss of light into which my soul
 +will fall. I believe that the sky itself will be resplendent
 +with light, and that the stars will be mere
 +dark spots instead of being, as they are now, sparks
 +of diamonds upon a canopy of black velvet.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Or perchance, miserable wretch that I am, I shall
 +fall without cessation into the depths of a hideous
 +black gulf, seeing hideous forms threatening me on
 +all sides.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Or, after receiving the blow, shall I awake and
 +find myself upon a soft flat surface, wandering about
 +in semi-darkness, and turning over and over like a
 +head that rolls? I can fancy that there will be a
 +strong wind, and that my head will be jolted with
 +other rolling heads. In places there will be brooks
 +and ponds of an unknown liquid, but all will be
 +black.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>When, in the midst of my revolutions, my eyes
 +will be turned upwards, they will look upon a sky of
 +shadows, and far away in the background huge
 +arches of smoke darker than the darkness itself. I
 +shall see millions of red sparks flitting about, which
 +upon coming near to me will turn into birds of fire;—and
 +this will go on for ever and ever.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>It may be that, upon certain gloomy nights of
 +winter, those who have died upon the Place de Grêve
 +may meet together, for is it not their domain? It
 +will be a pale and bleeding crowd, and assuredly I
 +shall not be absent from it. There will be no moon,
 +and we shall all speak in a low voice. The Hotel
 +de Ville will be there, with its mouldering walls, its
 +<span class='pageno' title='80' id='Page_80'></span>
 +dilapidated roof, and the clock that had no pity for
 +us.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A guillotine from Hell will be erected, where a
 +demon will execute a headsman. The hour will be
 +four, and we shall form the crowd round the scaffold.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Probably things will be like this. But if the dead
 +do return, in what shapes will they appear? What
 +part of their incomplete and mutilated body will they
 +keep? Which will they choose? Shall the head
 +or the trunk appear as a spectre?</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Alas! what has Death done with the soul? What
 +feelings does it leave to it? What has it taken
 +away, and what has it given? Where does he put
 +it? and does he ever lend it the eyes of the flesh to
 +look upon this earth and weep?</p>
 +
 +<div class='blockquoter9'>
 +
 +<div class='literal-container' style=''><div class='literal'> <!-- rend=';' -->
 +<p class='line0'>O for a priest, a priest who can tell me this;</p>
 +<p class='line0'>I want a priest, and a crucifix to kiss,</p>
 +<p class='line0'>Always the same, my God!</p>
 +</div></div> <!-- end rend -->
 +
 +</div>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XL.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>I have</span> asked them to let me sleep a little, and have
 +thrown myself upon the bed.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I have a rush of blood to the head, which makes
 +rest necessary to me. This is my last sleep in this
 +life. I have had a dream.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I dreamt that it was night, that I was in my study
 +with two or three of my friends, whose names I do
 +not recollect.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>My wife was asleep in a room hard by, and our
 +child was with her.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='81' id='Page_81'></span>
 +My friends and I spoke in a low voice, so that we
 +might not alarm them.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>All of a sudden we heard a strange noise in some
 +other portion of the house; it was like a key being
 +turned quietly, like the creaking of a bolt.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>There was something in the sound that alarmed
 +us. We imagined that it might be thieves who had
 +got into the house.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>We resolved to search the premises. I rose, took
 +a candle in my hand; my friends followed me one by
 +one. We passed through the bedroom where my
 +wife was sleeping with our child by her side. Then
 +we came to the drawing-room. There was no one
 +there. The family portraits hung upon the wall,
 +which was covered with red paper, motionless in
 +their gilded homes. It seemed to me as if the
 +dining-room door was not in its usual place.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>We entered the dining-room, and searched it, I
 +going first. The door that led into the staircase was
 +closed, and so were the windows. Near the stove I
 +noticed that the linen-closet was open, and the door
 +drawn back forming an angle with the wall, as though
 +to conceal something.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This surprised us; we imagined that there was
 +some one hiding behind the door.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I tried to close it, and experienced some resistance.
 +In astonishment I pulled harder, when it yielded
 +suddenly, and behind it we saw a little old woman
 +standing motionless against the wall, her eyes closed,
 +and her arms hanging down in front of her.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>She looked hideous, and my hair bristled.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I said, “What are you doing here?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='82' id='Page_82'></span>
 +She made no answer.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I asked, “Who are you?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>She did not reply, nor did she move or unclose her
 +eyes.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>My friends said, “No doubt she is in league with
 +those who have broken into the house with some
 +evil design. Upon hearing us coming they fled,
 +but she having been unable to escape hid herself
 +here.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I again questioned her, but she continued silent,
 +motionless, and sightless.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>One of my friends pushed her. She fell to the
 +ground like a log, like some inanimate object.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>We pushed her with our feet, then we raised her
 +again, and stood her up against the wall; but she
 +showed no sign of life, and remained dumb to our
 +questions, as though she were deaf.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At last we lost patience; anger began to mingle
 +with our fright.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>One of us suggested—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Put the flame of the candle under her chin.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I did so; then she half opened one eye, a vague,
 +dull eye with no expression in it.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I moved away the candle, and said—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Will you answer me now, you old witch?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The open eye closed again.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Ah, this is too much,” cried the others. “Give
 +her the candle again—she shall answer us.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I put the flame again under her chin.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then she opened both eyes slowly, and gazed
 +upon us all round; then, bending her head abruptly,
 +she blew out the candle with a breath that froze like
 +<span class='pageno' title='83' id='Page_83'></span>
 +ice; and at the same instant I felt, in the darkness,
 +three sharp teeth pierce my hand.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I woke trembling, and bathed in a cold perspiration.
 +The good old priest was seated by my side reading
 +his prayer-book.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Have I slept long?” asked I.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“My son,” replied he, “you have been sleeping
 +an hour. They have brought your child to take
 +leave of you, she is in the adjoining room. She is
 +waiting for you, but I would not let them wake you.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“My child, my child!” I exclaimed; “bring me
 +my child!”</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XLI.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>She</span> is young and rosy, and has large eyes; she is a
 +pretty child.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>She wears a dear little dress that becomes her
 +well.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I have taken her up in my arms, and placed her
 +upon my knees, and kissed her hair.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Why is her mother not with her? She is ill, and
 +her grandmother is ill too.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>She gazed upon me with an air of astonishment;
 +she permitted me to caress her, embrace her, and
 +devour her with kisses, but from time to time she
 +cast an uneasy look at her nurse, who was weeping
 +in a corner of the room.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At last I was able to speak.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Marie!” said I. “My little Marie!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I pressed her tightly to my bosom; she pushed me
 +away with a low cry.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='84' id='Page_84'></span>
 +“Oh, sir,” said she, “you hurt me.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Sir!</span> It was nearly a year since she had seen me.
 +She had forgotten me. Words, face, speech, all
 +were faded from her memory; and who would
 +recognize me in this dress, with my beard and my
 +livid complexion? Was I lost to the only one that
 +I should have cared to remember me?</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>To be no more a father—to be condemned never to
 +hear that word again from the lips of a child, that
 +word which is so sweet, but which a man’s tongue
 +cannot frame, “Papa.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>And yet to hear it once again from those lips, only
 +once again, I would gladly have given the forty years
 +of life that they were going to take away from me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Listen, Marie,” said I, joining her two little
 +hands in mine. “Do you not know me?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>She looked at me with her beautiful eyes, and
 +answered—“No.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Look at me well,” urged I. “Now who am I?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You are a gentleman,” replied she.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Alas! to love one creature so fondly in the world—to
 +love her with all your passionate love, to have
 +her with you to look into her eyes, and to hear her
 +answer that she does not know you.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Marie,” continued I, “have you a papa?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, sir,” said the child.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Well, where is he?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>She raised her great eyes full of wonder.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Do you not know?” said she. “He is dead!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then she began to cry, and I almost let her fall.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Dead,” repeated I. “Marie, do you know what
 +it is to be dead?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='85' id='Page_85'></span>
 +“Yes, sir,” answered she; “it is to be in the
 +churchyard, and in heaven.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then she continued, “I pray to the good God for
 +him night and morning at mamma’s knees.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I kissed her forehead.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Marie, say your prayers.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I must not, sir; prayers must not be said in the
 +middle of the day; come this evening and I will say
 +them to you.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This was too much, and I interrupted her.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Marie, it is I that am your papa.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Oh,” answered she.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I added—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Do you not wish that I should be your papa?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I covered her with tears and kisses. She endeavoured
 +to disengage herself from my embrace, crying—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Your beard hurts me.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then I put her once more upon my knees, and,
 +looking into her eyes, asked her—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Marie, do you know how to read?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” answered she, “I can read; mamma taught
 +me my letters.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Come, read a little,” said I, showing her a paper
 +that she had crumpled up in her hand.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>She shook her little head.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I can only read fables,” said she.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Never mind, try, come, let us see.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>She unfolded the paper, and began to spell it out,
 +pointing to each letter with her finger.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“S, E, N, sen; T, E, N, C, E——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I snatched it from her hand. It was the sentence
 +of death that she was reading to me, and her nurse
 +<span class='pageno' title='86' id='Page_86'></span>
 +had bought the paper for a penny. It would cost
 +me more than that.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>No words can describe my feelings. My violence
 +frightened the child. She almost wept. Suddenly
 +she exclaimed, “Give me back my piece of paper; I
 +want it for a plaything.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I gave her to the nurse. “Take her away,” I cried.
 +Then I fell back in my chair, gloomy, worn-out, and
 +desperate. Let them come now, I care for nothing;
 +the last link that binds me to life is broken, they can
 +do what they like with me.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XLII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> priest is kind, and the gaoler, too, has his tender
 +side. I believe that they both shed a tear, as I told
 +the nurse to take away my child.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>It is over; now I have only to strengthen myself,
 +and to think boldly of the executioner, of the cart,
 +of the gendarmes, of the crowd on the bridge, of the
 +crowd on the quay, of the crowd at the windows,
 +and of that crowd which has assembled expressly for
 +me on the Place de Grêve, which might be paved with
 +the heads that have fallen there. I think that I have
 +a whole hour to accustom myself to these thoughts.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XLIII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> multitude will laugh, will clap its hands, will
 +applaud; and amongst all those free and unknown
 +men, who hasten, full of pleasure, to an execution, in
 +<span class='pageno' title='87' id='Page_87'></span>
 +that crowd of heads that will cover the open space,
 +there will be more than one predestined to follow
 +mine sooner or later into the blood-stained basket.
 +More than one who has come for me will one day
 +come on his own account.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XLIV.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>My</span> little Marie, they have taken her back to her
 +play; she will look at the crowd through the windows
 +of the cab, and will think no more of <span class='it'>that gentleman</span>!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Perhaps I shall yet have time to write a few pages
 +for her, that one day she will read; and fifteen
 +years hence she may perhaps weep for to-day.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Yes, she must have from me my true story, and
 +why my name has a stain of blood upon it.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XLV.<br/> <span style='font-size:smaller'>MY HISTORY.</span></h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Note</span> by the Editor.—It has been impossible to find
 +the manuscript to which this refers. Perhaps, as is
 +indicated by those that follow, the idea came to him
 +without his having had time to execute it. The time
 +was short when he thought of it.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XLVI.<br/> <span style='font-size:smaller'>FROM A ROOM IN THE HOTEL DE VILLE.</span></h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>From</span> the Hotel de Ville!... I am there; the
 +terrible journey has been made. <span class='it'>The place is there</span>,
 +<span class='pageno' title='88' id='Page_88'></span>
 +below my window. And the vile populace are there,
 +hooting and laughing as they wait for me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I had need to endeavour to pluck up courage, to
 +strengthen my nerves, for my heart failed me when
 +I saw those two red posts, with the black triangle
 +at their summit, erect themselves between the two
 +lamp-posts on the quay. I demanded to be permitted
 +to make a last declaration, and they brought me
 +here, and have gone to find the Public Prosecutor. I
 +am waiting for him; at any rate it is so much time
 +gained.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Here it comes. They warn me that the time has
 +arrived. I trembled, as though I had thought of
 +nothing else for the last six hours, for the last six
 +weeks, for the last six months. It came upon me as
 +if it were something totally unexpected.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>They have led me through their passages, and
 +made me ascend and descend their staircases. They
 +have pushed me through a folding-door into a room
 +on the ground floor, dark and narrow, with a vaulted
 +roof; the foggy, rainy day hardly allows any light to
 +penetrate into it. A chair was standing in the centre;
 +they told me to sit down, and I did so.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>There were several people standing about besides
 +the priest and the gendarmes; <span class='it'>there were also three men</span>.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The first was tall, old, and fat, with a red face, and
 +he wore a great-coat and a broken three-cornered
 +hat. <span class='it'>It was he!</span></p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>It was the headsman, the man of the guillotine;
 +the others were his assistants.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Scarcely was I seated, than these two approached
 +me from behind, stealthily as cats; then in a moment
 +<span class='pageno' title='89' id='Page_89'></span>
 +I felt cold steel in my hair, and heard the snipping
 +noise of the scissors close to my ears.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Carelessly severed, my hair fell in masses on my
 +shoulders, whilst the man in the three-cornered hat
 +brushed them gently away with his large hand.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Every one round me whispered.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Outside there was a strange murmuring sound;
 +at first I thought that it was the river, but from the
 +laughter that arose from intervals, I knew it was the
 +crowd. A young man seated near the window, who
 +was writing with a pencil in a note-book, asked the
 +men what they were doing.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It is the last toilet of the condemned,” was the
 +reply.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I then understood that all this would be read to-morrow
 +in the papers.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>All at once one of the assistants took off my
 +waistcoat, whilst the other seized my two hands and
 +brought them behind my back, whilst I could feel a
 +cord being knotted round my wrists. At the same
 +moment the other took off my necktie. My linen
 +shirt, a last relic of bygone days, seemed to make
 +him hesitate for a moment; then he cut off the collar.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At this horrible moment, when the cold steel
 +touched my neck, my elbow quivered, and I uttered a
 +low moan of stilled rage. The executioner’s hand
 +shook.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Sir,” said he, “forgive me, have I hurt you?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>These executioners have excellent manners.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The crowd outside is yelling louder than ever.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The headsman pressed to my nostrils a handkerchief,
 +strongly impregnated with aromatic vinegar.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='90' id='Page_90'></span>
 +“Thank you,” said I, in as firm a voice as I could;
 +“it is useless. I feel better.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then one of them stooped to bind my feet together.
 +This was done with a slender simple cord, which
 +enabled me to take very short steps, and it was
 +attached to the one that secured my wrists.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then the big man threw the waistcoat on my back,
 +tying the sleeves together under my chin. There
 +was nothing more to be done.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The priest now approached with the crucifix.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Come, my son,” said he.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The assistants put their hands under my arms, and
 +I was lifted up. My steps were slow and tottering.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At the instant, the outer door was thrown wide
 +open, and an irruption of noise, cold air, and blinding
 +light burst in upon the gloom of the chamber. From
 +the darkness I could see through the rain the thousands
 +of heads, all shouting and yelling, piled one
 +upon the other; on the right a line of mounted
 +gendarmes; in front a detachment of infantry; on the left
 +the back of a cart in which was a ladder—a terrible
 +picture framed by the door of the prison. This was
 +the dreaded moment for which I had nerved myself.
 +I made two steps forward, and appeared on the
 +threshold of the door.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“There he is! there he is!” cried the crowd; “he
 +is coming at last!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>And those nearest to me clapped their hands. The
 +king himself is not received with greater honours.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>It was a mere ordinary cart, with a miserable hack
 +in it, driven by a man in a blouse. The big man
 +with the three-cornered hat mounted first.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='91' id='Page_91'></span>
 +“Good day, Monsieur Sanson,” cried the children.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>One of the assistants followed him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Good day, Tuesday,” cried they once more.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Both of them took their place on the seat in front.
 +Now it was my turn, and I mounted with a calm
 +demeanour.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“He is going to die game,” said a woman near the
 +gendarmes.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This infamous praise gave me courage. The priest
 +took his place by me. I was placed in the back seat,
 +my face turned away from the horse. I shivered at
 +this last act of attention. There was an air of
 +humanity in it.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A squadron of gendarmes awaited me at the gate
 +of the palace.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The officer gave the word of command, and the
 +escort and the cart started with a roar of applause
 +from the crowd.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Hats off! hats off!” cried a thousand throats. It
 +was as if the king was passing.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then I laughed a ghastly laugh, and muttered to
 +the priest, “Their hats, my head!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>We moved at a foot’s pace.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>There was a breath of perfume from the Flower
 +Market; the stall-keepers had left their bouquets to
 +come and see me. A little farther on there were
 +many public-houses, the upper floors of which were
 +full of spectators, rejoicing in the excellent places
 +which they had secured. The women especially seemed
 +delighted. They had hired tables, chairs, scaffolds,
 +and carts to stand upon. Every coign of vantage
 +bent beneath the weight of the spectators. The
 +<span class='pageno' title='92' id='Page_92'></span>
 +men who made their living by these spillings of
 +human gore, cried at the top of their voices—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Who wants a place?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Hatred for this merciless crowd filled my heart,
 +and I felt inclined to cry out, “<span class='it'>Who wants mine?</span>”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Still the cart went on; at each step the crowd
 +disappeared from behind it, and I saw them re-form
 +again farther on in front.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Upon passing the Pont de Change, I chanced to
 +cast my eyes backwards on the right-hand side—I saw
 +a tall black tower standing by itself, covered with
 +carvings, upon the top of which sat two stone
 +monsters. I had no reason for putting the question
 +to the priest, but I asked, “What is that?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The tower of Saint Jacques la Boucherie,” he
 +replied.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>We moved on slowly, the crowd was so great.
 +I feared to show cowardice. Last remnant of vanity!
 +Then I pulled myself together, and endeavoured to
 +be blind and deaf to everything except the priest,
 +whose words I could scarcely catch.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then I took the crucifix in my hands, and kissed it.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Have pity on me,” cried I, “O my God!” and I
 +endeavoured to busy myself in that thought. But
 +each jolt of the clumsy vehicle scattered my thoughts.
 +Suddenly I felt very cold; the rain had soaked
 +through my clothes, and my head, deprived of the
 +protecting hair, was quite wet.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You are shivering with the cold, my son,”
 +remarked the priest.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” replied I. Alas! it was not the cold that
 +I was shivering with.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='93' id='Page_93'></span>
 +At the end of the bridge some women pitied me
 +because I was so young.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>We reached the fatal quay. My sight and hearing
 +grew dim once more; those voices, the heads at the
 +windows, at the doors, in the shops, on the cross-bar
 +of the lamp-posts, those eager and cruel spectators,
 +those crowds who knew me, and amongst whom I
 +knew no one, those lines of human faces——I
 +was intoxicated, stupid, mad. So many eyes all
 +fixed upon me became an unbearable torture.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I shook upon my seat, and paid no more attention
 +to crucifix or priest.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>In the tempest of sound that enfolded me I could
 +no longer distinguish expressions of sympathy from
 +jeers and insults; everything roared and resounded
 +in my ears like the echo from a copper vessel.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Unconsciously I began to read the names over the
 +shops. Once a feeling of morbid curiosity urged
 +me to turn my head, and to look at what we were
 +approaching.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>It was the last bravado of the intellect—but the
 +body would not obey it, for my neck remained stiff
 +and obstinate.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I glanced to my left across the river; I could see
 +one tower of Notre Dame, the other was hidden by
 +it. It was the one upon which the flagstaff is.
 +There was a great crowd upon it; they must have
 +had a good view.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>And the cart went on and on, and shop succeeded
 +to shop, and the people laughed and stamped about
 +in the mud; and I gazed calmly upon everything
 +as people do in their dreams.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='94' id='Page_94'></span>
 +All of a sudden the row of shops upon which my
 +eyes were fixed were cut by the corner of a square.
 +The noise of the crowd became more sonorous,
 +tumultuous, and merry. Suddenly the cart stopped,
 +and I almost fell forwards.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The priest caught me by the arm.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Courage,” murmured he.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then they brought a ladder to the back of the
 +cart; an arm was stretched out to aid me in my
 +descent. I took the first step, and attempted to
 +take another—but it was useless, for on the quay,
 +between two lamp-posts, I had caught sight of a terrible
 +object.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>It was the realization of all my terrors.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I staggered as though I had received a heavy
 +blow.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I have a last confession to make,” muttered I,
 +feebly. They brought me here.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I asked them to let me write. They untied my
 +hands; but the cord is here, ready for me, and the
 +other horror is below, waiting for me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A judge, a commissioner, or a magistrate—I
 +know not which—came to me. I asked for a pardon,
 +clasping my hands, and kneeling to them. With
 +a calm smile, they asked me if that was all I had to
 +say.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“My pardon, my pardon,” repeated I: “or five
 +minutes’ more life, for pity’s sake! You do not
 +know—it may be on its way, it may arrive at the
 +last moment—such things have often been heard of
 +before. And of what use will pardon be, sir, if I am
 +no longer in a condition to benefit by it?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='95' id='Page_95'></span>
 +That accursed executioner is whispering to the
 +judge that it must be performed by a certain time,
 +that the hour is at hand, and that he is responsible
 +for its due performance; besides, it is raining, and
 +there is a chance of <span class='it'>the thing</span> getting rusty.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“For mercy’s sake! one minute more to wait for
 +the coming of my pardon! If you will not grant it,
 +I will defend myself tooth and nail!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The judge and the executioner have left me. I am
 +alone—alone with two gendarmes.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Oh the horrible crowd, with their hyena-like cries!
 +How do I know that I shall not escape them—if I
 +shall not be saved? My pardon may arrive——Ah,
 +the wretches, they are carrying me on to the
 +scaffold....</p>
 +
 +<p class='line0' style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*</p>
 +
 +<p class='line0' style='text-align:center;font-size:.8em;'>FOUR O’CLOCK STRIKES.</p>
 +
 +<hr class='pbk'/>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='97' id='Page_97'></span></p>
 +
 +<p class='line0' style='text-align:center;margin-top:4em;font-size:1.2em;'><span class='it'>TOLD UNDER CANVAS.</span></p>
 +
 +<hr class='pbk'/>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='99' id='Page_99'></span></p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h2><span class='it'>TOLD UNDER CANVAS.</span></h2>
 +
 +<hr class='tbk102'/>
 +
 +<h3><span class='it'>BUG-JARGAL.</span><br/> <span style='font-size:smaller'>PROLOGUE.</span></h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>When</span> it came to the turn of Captain Leopold
 +d’Auverney, he gazed around him with surprise, and
 +hurriedly assured his comrades that he did not
 +remember any incident in his life that was worthy of
 +repetition.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“But, Captain d’Auverney,” objected Lieutenant
 +Henri, “you have—at least report says so—travelled
 +much, and seen a good deal of the world; have you
 +not been to the Antilles, to Africa, and to Italy? and
 +above all, you have been in Spain——But see, here
 +is your lame dog come back again!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>D’Auverney started, let fall the cigar that he was
 +smoking, and turned quickly to the tent door, at
 +which an enormous dog appeared, limping towards
 +him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>In another instant the dog was licking his feet,
 +wagging his tail, whining, and gamboling as well as
 +he was able; and by every means testifying his
 +delight at finding his master. And at last, as if he
 +<span class='pageno' title='100' id='Page_100'></span>
 +felt that he had done all that could be required of a
 +dog, he curled himself up peaceably before his master’s
 +seat.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Captain d’Auverney was much moved, but he
 +strove to conceal his feelings, and mechanically
 +caressed the dog with one hand, whilst with the
 +other he played with the chin-strap of his shako,
 +murmuring from time to time, “So here you are once
 +again, Rask, here you are.” Then, as if suddenly
 +recollecting himself, he exclaimed aloud, “But who
 +has brought him back?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“By your leave, captain——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>For the last few seconds Sergeant Thaddeus had
 +been standing at the door of the tent, the curtain of
 +which he was holding back with his left hand, whilst
 +his right was thrust into the bosom of his great-coat.
 +Tears were in his eyes as he contemplated the
 +meeting of the dog and his master, and at last, unable
 +to keep silence any longer, he risked the words—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“By your leave, captain——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>D’Auverney raised his eyes.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Why, it is you, Thaddeus; and how the deuce
 +have you been able—eh? Poor dog, poor Rask, I
 +thought that you were in the English camp. Where
 +did you find him, sergeant?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Thanks be to heaven, captain, you see me as
 +happy as your little nephew used to be when you let
 +him off his Latin lesson.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“But tell me, where <span class='it'>did</span> you find him?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I did not find him, captain; I went to look for
 +him.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Captain d’Auverney rose, and offered his hand to
 +<span class='pageno' title='101' id='Page_101'></span>
 +the sergeant, but the latter still kept his in the bosom
 +of his coat.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Well, you see, it was—at least, captain, since
 +poor Rask was lost, I noticed that you were like a
 +man beside himself; so when I saw that he did not
 +come to me in the evening, according to his custom,
 +for his share of my ration bread—which made old
 +Thaddeus weep like a child, I, who before that had
 +only wept twice in my life, the first time when—yes,
 +the day when——” and the sergeant cast a sad look
 +upon his captain. “Well, the second was when that
 +scamp Balthazar, the corporal of the 7th half brigade,
 +persuaded me to peel a bunch of onions.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It seems to me, Thaddeus,” cried Henri, with a
 +laugh, “that you avoid telling us what was the first
 +occasion upon which you shed tears.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It was doubtless, old comrade,” said the captain
 +kindly, as he patted Rask’s head, “when you
 +answered the roll-call as Tour d’Auvergne, the first
 +grenadier of France.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“No, no, captain; if Sergeant Thaddeus wept, it
 +was when he gave the order to fire on Bug-Jargal,
 +otherwise called Pierrot.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A cloud gathered on the countenance of D’Auverney,
 +then he again endeavoured to clasp the sergeant’s
 +hand; but in spite of the honour that was attempted
 +to be conferred on him, the old man still kept his
 +hand hidden under his coat.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, captain,” continued Thaddeus, drawing
 +back a step or two, whilst D’Auverney fixed his eyes
 +upon him with a strange and sorrowful expression.
 +“Yes, I wept for him that day, and he well deserved
 +<span class='pageno' title='102' id='Page_102'></span>
 +it. He was black, it is true, but gunpowder is black
 +also, and—and——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The good sergeant would fain have followed out
 +his strange comparison, for there was evidently
 +something in the idea that pleased him; but he
 +utterly failed to put his thoughts into words, and after
 +having attacked his idea on every side, as a general
 +would a fortified place, and failed, he raised the
 +siege, and without noticing the smiles of his officers,
 +he continued:</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Tell me, captain, do you recollect how that poor
 +negro arrived all out of breath, at the moment that
 +his ten comrades were waiting on the spot?—we had
 +had to tie them though. It was I who commanded
 +the party; and when with his own hands he
 +untied them, and took their place, although they did
 +all that they could to dissuade him; but he was
 +inflexible. Ah, what a man he was; you might as
 +well have tried to move Gibraltar! And then, captain,
 +he drew himself up as if he were going to enter a ballroom,
 +and this dog, who knew well enough what was
 +coming, flew at my throat——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Generally, Thaddeus, at this point of your story,
 +you pat Rask,” interrupted the captain; “see how
 +he looks at you.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You are right, sir,” replied Thaddeus, with an
 +air of embarrassment; “he <span class='it'>does</span> look at me, poor
 +fellow—but the old woman Malajuda told me it was
 +unlucky to pat a dog with the left hand, and——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“And why not with your right, pray?” asked
 +D’Auverney, for the first time noticing the sergeant’s
 +pallor, and the hand reposing in his bosom.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='103' id='Page_103'></span>
 +The sergeant’s discomfort appeared to increase.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“By your leave, captain, it is because—well, you
 +have got a lame dog, and now there is a chance of
 +your having a one-handed sergeant.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“A one-handed sergeant! What do you mean?
 +Let me see your arm. One hand! Great heavens!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>D’Auverney trembled, as the sergeant slowly withdrew
 +his hand from his bosom, and showed it
 +enveloped in a blood-stained handkerchief.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“This is terrible,” exclaimed D’Auverney, carefully
 +undoing the bandage. “But tell me, old comrade,
 +how this happened.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“As for that, the thing is simple enough. I told
 +you how I had noticed your grief since those confounded
 +English had taken away your dog, poor
 +Rask, Bug’s dog. I made up my mind to-day to
 +bring him back, even if it cost me my life, so that
 +you might eat a good supper. After having told
 +Mathelet, your <span class='it'>bât</span> man, to get out and brush your
 +full-dress uniform, as we are to go into action to-morrow,
 +I crept quietly out of camp, armed only
 +with my sabre, and crouched under the hedges until
 +I neared the English camp. I had not passed the
 +first trench, when I saw a whole crowd of red soldiers.
 +I crept on quietly to see what they were doing, and
 +in the midst of them I perceived Rask tied to a tree;
 +whilst two of the <span class='it'>milords</span>, stripped to here, were
 +knocking each other about with their fists, until their
 +bones sounded like the big drum of the regiment.
 +They were fighting for your dog. But when Rask
 +caught sight of me, he gave such a bound, that the
 +rope broke, and in the twinkling of an eye the rogue
 +<span class='pageno' title='104' id='Page_104'></span>
 +was after me. I did not stop to explain, but off I
 +ran, with all the English at my heels. A regular
 +hail of balls whistled past my ears. Rask barked, but
 +they could not hear him for their shouts of ‘French
 +dog! French dog!’ just as if Rask was not of the
 +pure St. Domingo breed. In spite of all I crushed
 +through the thicket, and had almost got clean away,
 +when two red coats confronted me. My sabre accounted
 +for one, and would have rid me of the other,
 +had his pistol not unluckily had a bullet in it. My
 +right arm suffered; but ‘French dog’ leapt at his
 +throat, as if he were an old acquaintance. Down fell
 +the Englishman, for the embrace was so tight that
 +he was strangled in a moment—and here we both are.
 +My only regret is that I did not get my wound in
 +to-morrow’s battle.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Thaddeus, Thaddeus!” exclaimed the captain in
 +tones of reproach; “were you mad enough to expose
 +your life thus for a dog?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It was not for a dog, it was for Rask.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>D’Auverney’s face softened as Thaddeus added—“For
 +Rask, for Bug’s dog.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Enough, enough, old comrade!” cried the
 +captain, dashing his hand across his eyes; “come,
 +lean on me, and I will lead you to the hospital.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Thaddeus essayed to decline the honour, but in
 +vain; and as they left the tent the dog got up and
 +followed them.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This little drama had excited the curiosity of the
 +spectators to the highest degree. Captain Leopold
 +d’Auverney was one of those men who, in whatever
 +position the chances of nature and society may place
 +<span class='pageno' title='105' id='Page_105'></span>
 +them, always inspire a mingled feeling of interest
 +and respect. At the first glimpse there was nothing
 +striking in him—his manner was reserved, and his
 +look cold. The tropical sun, though it had browned
 +his cheek, had not imparted to him that vivacity of
 +speech and gesture which amongst the Creoles is
 +united to an easy carelessness of demeanour, in itself
 +full of charm.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>D’Auverney spoke little, listened less, but showed
 +himself ready to act at any moment. Always the
 +first in the saddle, and the last to return to camp, he
 +seemed to seek a refuge from his thoughts in bodily
 +fatigue. These thoughts, which had marked his
 +brow with many a premature wrinkle, were not of
 +the kind that you can get rid of by confiding them to
 +a friend; nor could they be discussed in idle conversation.
 +Leopold d’Auverney, whose body the hardships
 +of war could not subdue, seemed to experience
 +a sense of insurmountable fatigue in what is termed
 +the conflict of the feelings. He avoided argument as
 +much as he sought warfare. If at any time he
 +allowed himself to be drawn into a discussion, he
 +would utter a few words full of common sense and
 +reason, and then at the moment of triumph over
 +his antagonist he would stop short, and muttering
 +“What good is it?” would saunter off to the commanding
 +officer to glean what information he could
 +regarding the enemy’s movements.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>His comrades forgave his cold, reserved, and silent
 +habits, because upon every occasion they had found
 +him kind, gentle, and benevolent. He had saved
 +many a life at the risk of his own, and they well
 +<span class='pageno' title='106' id='Page_106'></span>
 +knew that though his mouth was rarely opened, yet
 +his purse was never closed when a comrade had need
 +of his assistance.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He was young; many would have guessed him at
 +thirty years of age, but they would have been wrong,
 +for he was some years under it. Although he had
 +for a long period fought in the ranks of the Republican
 +army, yet all were in ignorance of his former life.
 +The only one to whom he seemed ever to open his
 +heart was Sergeant Thaddeus, who had joined the
 +regiment with him, and would at times speak vaguely
 +of sad events in his early life. It was known that
 +D’Auverney had undergone great misfortunes in
 +America, that he had been married in St. Domingo,
 +and that his wife and all his family had perished in
 +those terrible massacres which had marked the
 +Republican invasion of that magnificent colony. At
 +the time of which we write, misfortunes of this kind
 +were so general, that any one could sympathize with,
 +and feel pity for, such sufferers.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>D’Auverney, therefore, was pitied less for his misfortunes
 +than for the manner in which they had been
 +brought about.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Beneath his icy mask of indifference the traces
 +of the incurably wounded spirit could be at times
 +perceived.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>When he went into action his calmness returned,
 +and in the fight he behaved as if he sought for the
 +rank of general; whilst after victory he was as gentle
 +and unassuming as if the position of a private soldier
 +would have satisfied his ambition. His comrades,
 +seeing him thus despise honour and promotion,
 +<span class='pageno' title='107' id='Page_107'></span>
 +could not understand what it was that lighted up his
 +countenance with a ray of hope when the action
 +commenced, and they did not for a moment divine
 +that the prize D’Auverney was striving to gain was
 +simply—<span class='it'>Death</span>.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The Representatives of the People, in one of their
 +missions to the army, had appointed him a Chief of
 +Brigade on the field of battle; but he had declined
 +the honour upon learning that it would remove him
 +from his old comrade Sergeant Thaddeus.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Some days afterwards, having returned from a
 +dangerous expedition safe and sound, contrary to the
 +general expectation and his own hopes, he was heard
 +to regret the rank that he had refused.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“For,” said he, “since the enemy’s guns always
 +spare me, perhaps the guillotine, which ever strikes
 +down those it has raised, would in time have claimed
 +me.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Such was the character of the man upon whom
 +the conversation turned as soon as he had left the
 +tent.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I would wager,” cried Lieutenant Henri, wiping
 +a splash of mud off his boot which the dog had left
 +as he passed him, “I would wager that the captain
 +would not exchange the broken paw of his dog for
 +the ten baskets of Madeira that we caught a glimpse
 +of in the general’s waggon.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Bah!” cried Paschal, the aide-de-camp, “that
 +would be a bad bargain: the baskets are empty by
 +now, and thirty empty bottles would be a poor price
 +for a dog’s paw—why, you might make a good bell-handle
 +out of it.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='108' id='Page_108'></span>
 +They all laughed at the grave manner in which
 +Paschal pronounced these words, with the exception
 +of a young officer of Hussars named Alfred, who
 +remarked—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I do not see any subject for chaff in this matter,
 +gentlemen. This sergeant and dog, who are always
 +at D’Auverney’s heels ever since I have known him,
 +seem to me more the objects of sympathy than
 +raillery, and interest me greatly.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Paschal, annoyed that his wit had missed fire,
 +interrupted him. “It certainly is a most sentimental
 +scene—a lost dog found, and a broken arm——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Captain Paschal,” said Henri, throwing an empty
 +bottle outside the tent, “you are wrong; this Bug,
 +otherwise called Pierrot, excites my curiosity greatly.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At this moment D’Auverney returned, and sat
 +down without uttering a word. His manner was
 +still sad, but his face was more calm; he seemed
 +not to have heard what was said. Rask, who had
 +followed him, lay down at his feet, but kept a watchful
 +eye on his master’s comrades.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Pass your glass, Captain d’Auverney, and taste
 +this.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, thank you,” replied the captain, evidently
 +imagining that he was answering a question, “the
 +wound is not dangerous—there is no bone broken.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The respect which all felt for D’Auverney prevented
 +a burst of laughter at this reply.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Since your mind is at rest regarding Thaddeus’
 +wound,” said Henri, “and, as you may remember,
 +we entered into an agreement to pass away the hours
 +of bivouac by relating to each other our adventures,
 +<span class='pageno' title='109' id='Page_109'></span>
 +will you carry out your promise by telling us the
 +history of your lame dog, and of Bug—otherwise
 +called Pierrot, that regular Gibraltar of a man?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>To this request, which was put in a semi-jocular
 +tone, D’Auverney at last yielded.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I will do what you ask, gentlemen,” said he;
 +“but you must only expect a very simple tale, in
 +which I play an extremely second rate part. If the
 +affection that exists between Thaddeus, Rask, and
 +myself leads you to expect anything very wonderful,
 +I fear that you will be greatly disappointed. However,
 +I will begin.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>For a moment D’Auverney relapsed into thought, as
 +though he wished to recall past events which had
 +long since been replaced in his memory by the acts
 +of his later years; but at last, in a low voice and with
 +frequent pauses, he began his tale.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>“I was</span> born in France, but at an early age I was sent
 +to St. Domingo, to the care of an uncle to whose
 +daughter it had been arranged between our parents
 +that I was to be married. My uncle was one of the
 +wealthiest colonists, and possessed a magnificent
 +house and extensive plantations in the Plains of Acul,
 +near Fort Galifet.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The position of the estate, which no doubt you
 +wonder at my describing so minutely, was one of the
 +causes of all our disasters, and the eventual total
 +ruin of our whole family.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='110' id='Page_110'></span>
 +“Eight hundred negro slaves cultivated the enormous
 +domains of my uncle. Sad as the position of a slave
 +is, my uncle’s hardness of heart added much to the
 +unhappiness of those who had the misfortune to be
 +his property.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“My uncle was one of the happily small number
 +of planters from whom despotic power had taken
 +away the gentler feelings of humanity. He was
 +accustomed to see his most trifling command unhesitatingly
 +obeyed, and the slightest delay on the
 +part of his slaves in carrying it out was punished
 +with the harshest severity; whilst the intercession
 +either of my cousin or of myself too often merely led
 +to an increase of the punishment, and we were only
 +too often obliged to rest satisfied by secretly assuaging
 +the injuries which we were powerless to
 +prevent.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Amongst the multitude of his slaves, one only had
 +found favour in my uncle’s sight; this was a half-caste
 +Spanish dwarf, who had been given him by
 +Lord Effingham, the Governor of Jamaica.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“My uncle, who had for many years resided in
 +Brazil, and had adopted the luxurious habits of the
 +Portuguese, loved to surround himself with an establishment
 +that was in keeping with his wealth. In
 +order that nothing should be wanting, he had made
 +the slave presented to him by Lord Effingham his
 +fool, in imitation of the feudal lords who had jesters
 +attached to their households. I must say that the
 +slave amply fulfilled all the required conditions. Habibrah,
 +for that was the half-caste’s name, was one of
 +those strangely-formed, or, rather, deformed beings,
 +<span class='pageno' title='111' id='Page_111'></span>
 +who would be looked upon as monsters if their very
 +hideousness did not cause a laugh. This ill-featured
 +dwarf was short and fat, and moved with wondrous
 +activity upon a pair of slender limbs, which, when
 +he sat down, bent under him like the legs of a
 +spider. His enormous head, covered with a mass
 +of red curly wool, was stuck between his shoulders,
 +whilst his ears were so large that Habibrah’s comrades
 +were in the habit of saying that he used them
 +to wipe his eyes when he wept. On his face there
 +was always a grin, which was continually changing
 +its character, and which caused his ugliness to be
 +of an ever-varying description. My uncle was fond
 +of him, because of his extreme hideousness and his
 +inextinguishable gaiety. Habibrah was his only
 +favourite, and led a life of ease, whilst the other
 +slaves were overwhelmed with work. The sole duties
 +of the jester were to carry a large fan, made of the
 +feathers of the bird of paradise, to keep away the
 +sandflies and the mosquitoes from his master. At
 +meal-times he sat upon a reed mat at his master’s
 +feet, who fed him with tit-bits from his own plate.
 +Habibrah appeared to appreciate all these acts of
 +kindness, and at the slightest sign from my uncle he
 +would run to him with the agility of a monkey and
 +the docility of a dog.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I had imbibed a prejudice against my uncle’s
 +favourite slave. There was something crawling in
 +his servility, and though outdoor slavery does not
 +dishonour, domestic service too often debases. I
 +felt a sentiment of pity for those slaves who toiled in
 +the scorching sun, with scarcely a vestige of clothing
 +<span class='pageno' title='112' id='Page_112'></span>
 +to hide their chains; but I despised this idle serf,
 +with his garments ornamented with gold lace and
 +adorned with bells. Besides, the dwarf never made
 +use of his influence with his master to ameliorate the
 +condition of his fellow-sufferers; on the contrary, I
 +heard him once, when he thought that he and his
 +master were alone, urge him to increase his severity
 +towards his ill-fated comrades.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The other slaves, however, did not appear to look
 +upon him with any feelings of anger or rancour, but
 +treated him with a timid kind of respect; and when,
 +dressed in all the splendour of laced garments, and a
 +tall pointed cap ornamented with bells and quaint
 +symbols traced upon it in red ink, he walked past
 +their huts, I have heard them murmur in accents of
 +awe, “He is an <span class='it'>obi</span>” (sorcerer).</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“These details, to which I now draw your attention,
 +occupied my mind but little then. I had given myself
 +up entirely to the emotion of a pure love in
 +which nothing else could mingle; a love which was
 +returned me with passion by the girl to whom I was
 +betrothed, and I gave little heed to anything that
 +was not Marie!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Accustomed from youth to look upon her as the
 +future companion of my life, there was a curious
 +mixture of the love of a brother for a sister, mingled
 +with the passionate adoration of a betrothed lover.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Few men have spent their earlier years more
 +happily than I have done, or have felt their souls
 +expand into life in the midst of a delicious climate
 +and all the luxuries which wealth could procure,
 +with perfect happiness in the present and the
 +<span class='pageno' title='113' id='Page_113'></span>
 +brightest hopes for the future. No man, as I said
 +before, could have spent their earlier years more
 +happily——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>D’Auverney paused for a moment, as if these
 +thoughts of bygone happiness had stilled his voice,
 +and then added—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“And no one could have passed his later ones in
 +more profound misery and affliction.”</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>In</span> the midst of these blind illusions and hopes, my
 +twentieth birthday approached. It was now the
 +month of August, 1791, and my uncle had decided
 +that this should be the date of my marriage with
 +Marie. You can well understand that the thoughts
 +of happiness, now so near, absorbed all my faculties,
 +and how little notice I took of the political crisis
 +which was then felt throughout the colony. I will
 +not, therefore, speak of the Count de Pernier, or of
 +M. de Blanchelande, nor of the tragical death of the
 +unfortunate Colonel de Marchiste; nor will I attempt
 +to describe the jealousies of the Provincial House of
 +Assembly of the North, and the Colonial Assembly,
 +which afterwards called itself the General Assembly,
 +declaring that the word “Colonial” had a ring of
 +slavery in it.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>For my own part, I sided with neither; and if I
 +did espouse any cause, it was in favour of Cap, near
 +which town my home was situate, in opposition to
 +Port au Prince.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='114' id='Page_114'></span>
 +Only once did I mix myself up in the question of
 +the day. It was on the occasion of the disastrous
 +decree of the 15th of May, 1791, by which the
 +National Assembly of France admitted free men of
 +colour to enjoy the same political privileges as the
 +whites.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At a ball given by the Governor of Cap, many of
 +the younger colonists spoke in impassioned terms of
 +this law, which levelled so cruel a blow at the
 +instincts of supremacy assumed by the whites, with
 +perhaps too little foundation. I had, as yet, taken
 +no part in the conversation, when I saw approaching
 +the group a wealthy planter, whose doubtful descent
 +caused him to be received merely upon sufferance by
 +the white society. I stepped in front of him, and in
 +a haughty voice I exclaimed, “Pass on, sir! pass on!
 +or you may hear words which would certainly be
 +disagreeable to those with <span class='it'>mixed blood</span> in their
 +veins.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He was so enraged at this insinuation, that he
 +challenged me. We fought, and each was slightly
 +wounded. I confess that I was in the wrong to
 +have thus provoked him, and it is probable that I
 +should not have done so on a mere <span class='it'>question of colour</span>,
 +but I had for some time past noticed that he had had
 +the audacity to pay certain attentions to my cousin,
 +and had danced with her the very night upon which
 +I had insulted him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>However, as time went on, and the date so
 +ardently desired approached, I was a perfect stranger
 +to the state of political ferment in which those
 +around me lived; and I never perceived the frightful
 +<span class='pageno' title='115' id='Page_115'></span>
 +cloud which already almost obscured the horizon,
 +and which promised a storm that would sweep all
 +before it.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>No one at that time thought seriously of a revolt
 +amongst the slaves—a class too much despised to
 +be feared; but between the whites and the free
 +mulattos there was sufficient hatred to cause an outbreak
 +at any moment, which might entail the most
 +disastrous consequences.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>During the first days of August a strange incident
 +occurred, which threw a slight shade of uneasiness
 +over the sunshine of my happiness.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>On</span> the banks of a little river, which flowed through
 +my uncle’s estate, was a small rustic pavilion in
 +the midst of a clump of trees.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Marie was in the habit of coming here every day
 +to enjoy the sea breeze, which blows regularly in St.
 +Domingo, even during the hottest months of the
 +year, from sunrise until evening.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Each morning it was my pleasant task to adorn
 +this charming retreat with the sweetest flowers that
 +I could gather.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>One morning Marie came running to me in a
 +great state of alarm: upon entering her leafy retreat
 +she had perceived, with surprise and terror, all the
 +flowers which I had arranged in the morning thrown
 +upon the ground and trampled underfoot, and a
 +bunch of wild marigolds, freshly gathered, placed
 +<span class='pageno' title='116' id='Page_116'></span>
 +upon her accustomed seat. She had hardly recovered
 +from her terror when, in the adjoining
 +coppice, she heard the sound of a guitar, and a voice,
 +which was not mine, commenced singing a Spanish
 +song; but in her excitement she had been unable to
 +catch the meaning of the words, though she could
 +hear her own name frequently repeated. Then she
 +had taken to flight, and had come to me full of this
 +strange and surprising event.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This recital filled me with jealousy and indignation.
 +My first suspicions pointed to the mulatto
 +with whom I had fought; but, even in the midst of
 +my perplexity, I resolved to do nothing rashly. I
 +soothed Marie’s fears as best I could, and promised
 +to watch over her without ceasing until the marriage
 +tie would give me the right of never leaving
 +her.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Believing that the intruder whose insolence had
 +so alarmed Marie would not content himself with
 +what he had already done, I concealed myself that
 +very evening near the portion of the house in which
 +my betrothed’s chamber was situated.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Hidden amongst the tall stalks of the sugar-cane,
 +and armed with a dagger, I waited; and I did not
 +wait in vain. Towards the middle of the night my
 +attention was suddenly attracted by the notes of a
 +guitar under the very window of the room in which
 +Marie reposed. Furious with rage, with my dagger
 +clutched firmly in my hand, I rushed in the direction
 +of the sound, crushing beneath my feet the brittle
 +stalks of the sugar-canes. All of a sudden I felt
 +myself seized and thrown upon my back with what
 +<span class='pageno' title='117' id='Page_117'></span>
 +appeared to be superhuman force, my dagger was
 +wrenched from my grasp, and I saw its point shining
 +above me; at the same moment I could perceive a
 +pair of eyes and a double row of white teeth gleaming
 +through the darkness, whilst a voice, in accents
 +of concentrated rage, muttered, “<span class='it'>Te tengo, te tengo</span>
 +(I have you, I have you).</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>More astonished than frightened, I struggled
 +vainly with my formidable antagonist, and already
 +the point of the dagger had pierced my clothes, when
 +Marie, whom the sound of the guitar and the noise
 +of the struggle had aroused, appeared suddenly at
 +her window. She recognized my voice, saw the
 +gleam of the knife, and uttered a cry of terror and
 +affright. This cry seemed to paralyze the hand of
 +my opponent. He stopped as if petrified; but still,
 +as though undecided, he kept the point of the dagger
 +pressed upon my chest; then he suddenly exclaimed
 +in French, “No, I cannot; she would weep too
 +much,” and, casting away the weapon, rose to his
 +feet, and in an instant disappeared in the canes;
 +and before I could rise, bruised and shaken from the
 +struggle, no sound and no sign remained of the presence
 +or the flight of my adversary.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>It was some time before I could recover my scattered
 +faculties. I was more furious than ever with
 +my unknown rival, and was overcome with a feeling
 +of shame at being indebted to him for my life.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“After all, however,” I thought, “it is to Marie
 +that I owe it; for it was the sound of <span class='it'>her</span> voice that
 +caused him to drop his dagger.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>And yet I could not hide from myself that there
 +<span class='pageno' title='118' id='Page_118'></span>
 +was something noble in the sentiment which had
 +caused my unknown rival to spare me. But who
 +could he be? One supposition after another rose in
 +my mind, all to be discarded in turn. It could not
 +be the mulatto planter to whom my suspicions had
 +first been directed. He was not endowed with such
 +muscular power; nor was it his voice. The man
 +with whom I had struggled was naked to the waist.
 +Slaves alone went about half-clothed in this manner.
 +But this could not be a slave. The feeling which
 +had caused him to throw away the dagger would not
 +have been found in the bosom of a slave; and besides,
 +my whole soul revolted at the idea of having a slave
 +for a rival. What was to be done? I determined
 +to wait and watch.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Marie</span> had awakened her old nurse, whom she looked
 +upon almost in the light of the mother who had died
 +in giving her birth, and with them I remained for
 +the rest of the night, and in the morning I informed
 +my uncle of the mysterious occurrence. His surprise
 +was extreme, but, like me, his pride would not
 +permit him to believe that a slave would venture to
 +raise his eyes to his daughter. The nurse received the
 +strictest orders from my uncle never to leave Marie
 +alone for a moment, but as the sittings of the Provincial
 +Assembly, the threatening aspect of the affairs
 +of the colony, and the superintendence of the plantation
 +allowed him but little leisure, he authorized me
 +<span class='pageno' title='119' id='Page_119'></span>
 +to accompany his daughter whenever she left the
 +house, until the celebration of our nuptials, and at
 +the same time, presuming that the daring lover must
 +be lurking in the neighbourhood, he ordered the
 +boundaries of the plantation to be more strictly
 +guarded than ever.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>After all these precautions had been taken, I
 +determined to put the matter to further proof. I
 +returned to the summer-house by the river, and
 +repairing the destruction of the evening before, I
 +placed a quantity of fresh flowers in their accustomed
 +place. When the time arrived at which
 +Marie usually sought the sweet shades of this sequestered
 +spot, I loaded my rifle and proposed to
 +escort her thither. The old nurse followed a few
 +steps behind.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Marie, to whom I had said nothing about my
 +having set the place to rights, entered the summer-house
 +the first. “See, Leopold,” said she, “my
 +nest is in the same condition in which I left it
 +yesterday; here are your flowers thrown about in
 +disorder and trampled to pieces, and there is that
 +odious bouquet which does not appear at all faded
 +since yesterday; indeed, it looks as if it had been
 +freshly gathered.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I was speechless with rage and surprise. There
 +was my morning’s work utterly ruined, and the wild
 +flowers, at whose freshness Marie was so much
 +astonished, had insolently usurped the place of the
 +roses that I had strewn all over the place.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Calm yourself,” said Marie, who noticed my
 +agitation; “this insolent intruder will come here no
 +<span class='pageno' title='120' id='Page_120'></span>
 +more; let us put all thoughts of him on one side,
 +as I do this nasty bunch of flowers.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I did not care to undeceive her, and to tell her that he
 +<span class='it'>had</span> returned, yet I was pleased to see the air of innocent
 +indignation with which she crushed the flowers under
 +her foot, but hoping that the day would again come
 +when I should meet my mysterious rival face to face,
 +I made her sit down between her nurse and myself.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Scarcely had we done so than Marie put her finger
 +on my lips; a sound, deadened by the breeze and the
 +rippling of the stream, had struck upon her ear. I
 +listened; it was the notes of a guitar, the same
 +melody that had filled me with fury on the preceding
 +evening. I made a movement to start from
 +my seat, but a gesture of Marie’s detained me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Leopold,” whispered she, “restrain yourself, he is
 +going to sing, and we shall learn who he is.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>As she spoke, a few more notes were struck on
 +the guitar, and then from the depths of the wood
 +came the plaintive melody of a Spanish song, every
 +word of which has remained deeply engraved on my
 +memory.</p>
 +
 +<div class='blockquote'>
 +
 +<div class='poetry-container' style=''><div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
 +<p class='line0'>Why dost thou fear me and fly me?</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Say, has my music no charms?</p>
 +<p class='line0'>Do you not know that I love you?</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Why, then, these causeless alarms?</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;Maria!</p>
 +</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
 +
 +</div>
 +
 +<div class='blockquote'>
 +
 +<div class='poetry-container' style=''><div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
 +<p class='line0'>When I perceive your slight figure</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Glide through the cocoa-nut grove</p>
 +<p class='line0'>Sometimes I think ’tis a spirit</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Come to reply to my love.</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;Maria!</p>
 +</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
 +
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='121' id='Page_121'></span></p>
 +
 +<div class='blockquote'>
 +
 +<div class='poetry-container' style=''><div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
 +<p class='line0'>Sweeter your voice to mine ears</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Than the bird’s song in the sky,</p>
 +<p class='line0'>That from the kingdom I’ve lost,</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Over the wide ocean fly.</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;Maria!</p>
 +</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
 +
 +</div>
 +
 +<div class='blockquote'>
 +
 +<div class='poetry-container' style=''><div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
 +<p class='line0'>Far away, once I was king,</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Noble, and powerful, and free;</p>
 +<p class='line0'>All I would gladly give up</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;For a word, for a gesture from thee,</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;Maria!</p>
 +</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
 +
 +</div>
 +
 +<div class='blockquote'>
 +
 +<div class='poetry-container' style=''><div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
 +<p class='line0'>Tall and upright as a palm,</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Sweet in your young lover’s eyes</p>
 +<p class='line0'>As the soft shade of the tree</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Mirrored in cool water lies.</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;Maria!</p>
 +</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
 +
 +</div>
 +
 +<div class='blockquote'>
 +
 +<div class='poetry-container' style=''><div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
 +<p class='line0'>But know you not that the storm</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Comes and uproots the fair tree?</p>
 +<p class='line0'>Jealousy comes like that storm,</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Bringing destruction to thee,</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;Maria!</p>
 +</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
 +
 +</div>
 +
 +<div class='blockquote'>
 +
 +<div class='poetry-container' style=''><div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
 +<p class='line0'>Tremble, Hispaniola’s daughter,</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Lest all should fade and decay;</p>
 +<p class='line0'>And vainly you look for the arm</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;To bear you in safety away.</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;Maria!</p>
 +</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
 +
 +</div>
 +
 +<div class='blockquote'>
 +
 +<div class='poetry-container' style=''><div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
 +<p class='line0'>Why, then, repulse my fond love?</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Black I am, whilst you are white;</p>
 +<p class='line0'>Night and the day, when united,</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Bring forth the beautiful light.</p>
 +<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;Maria!</p>
 +</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
 +
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='122' id='Page_122'></span></p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER V.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>A prolonged</span> quavering note upon the guitar, like
 +a sob, concluded the song. I was beside myself
 +with rage. King—black—slave! A thousand
 +incoherent ideas were awakened by this extraordinary
 +and mysterious song. A maddening desire
 +to finish for once and all with this unknown being,
 +who dared to mingle the name of Marie with
 +songs of love and menace, took possession of me.
 +I grasped my rifle convulsively and rushed from the
 +summer-house. Marie stretched out her arms to
 +detain me, but I was already in the thicket from
 +which the voice appeared to have come. I searched
 +the little wood thoroughly, I beat the bushes with
 +the barrel of my rifle, I crept behind the trunks of
 +the large trees, and walked through the high grass.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Nothing—nothing—always nothing! This fruitless
 +search added fuel to the fire of my anger. Was
 +this insolent rival always to escape from me like a
 +supernatural being? Was I never to be able to find
 +out who he was, or to meet him? At this moment
 +the tinkling of bells roused me from my reverie. I
 +turned sharply round, the dwarf Habibrah was at my
 +side.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Good day, master,” said he, with a sidelong
 +glance full of triumphant malice at the anxiety
 +which was imprinted on my face.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Tell me,” exclaimed I, roughly, “have you seen
 +any one about here?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“No one except yourself, señor mio,” answered he,
 +calmly.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='123' id='Page_123'></span>
 +“Did you hear no voice?” continued I.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The slave remained silent, as though seeking for
 +an evasive reply.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>My passion burst forth. “Quick, quick!” I exclaimed.
 +“Answer me quickly, wretch! did you hear
 +a voice?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He fixed his eyes boldly upon mine; they were
 +small and round, and gleamed like those of a wild cat.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What do you mean by a voice, master? There
 +are voices everywhere—the voice of the birds, the
 +voice of the stream, the voice of the wind in the
 +trees——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I shook him roughly. “Miserable buffoon,” I
 +cried, “cease your quibbling, or you shall hear
 +another voice from the barrel of my rifle. Answer at
 +once; did you hear a man singing a Spanish song?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, señor,” answered he, calmly. “Listen, and
 +I will tell you all about it. I was walking on the
 +outskirts of the wood listening to what the silver
 +bells of my <span class='it'>gorra</span> (cap) were telling me, when the
 +wind brought to my ears some Spanish words, the first
 +language that I heard when my age could have been
 +counted by months, and my mother carried me slung
 +at her back in a hammock of red and yellow wool.
 +I love the language, it recalls to me the time when I
 +was little without being a dwarf, a little child, and
 +not a buffoon; and so I listened to the song.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Is that all that you have to say?” cried I, impatiently.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, handsome master; but if you like I can tell
 +you what the man was who sang.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I felt inclined to clasp him in my arms.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='124' id='Page_124'></span>
 +“Oh, speak!” I exclaimed; “speak! here is my
 +purse, and ten others fuller than that shall be yours
 +if you will tell me his name.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He took the purse, opened it, and smiled.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Ten purses fuller than this,” murmured he;
 +“that will make a fine heap of good gold coins; but
 +do not be impatient, young master, I am going to
 +tell you all. Do you remember the last verse of his
 +song, something about ‘I am black, and you are
 +white, and the union of the two produces the
 +beautiful light’? Well, if this song is true, Habibrah,
 +your humble slave, was born of a negress and a
 +white, and must be more beautiful than you, master;
 +I am the offspring of day and night, therefore I am
 +more beautiful than a white man, and——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He accompanied this rhapsody with bursts of
 +laughter.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Enough of buffoonery,” cried I; “tell me who
 +was singing in the wood.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Certainly, master, the man who sang such
 +buffooneries, as you rightly term them, could only
 +have been—a fool like me! Have I not gained my
 +ten purses?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I raised my hand to chastise his insolence, when
 +a wild shriek rang through the wood from the direction
 +of the summer-house.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>It was Marie’s voice.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Like an arrow I darted to the spot, wondering
 +what fresh misfortune could be in store for us, and
 +in a few moments arrived, out of breath, at the door
 +of the pavilion. A terrible spectacle presented itself
 +to my eyes.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='125' id='Page_125'></span>
 +An enormous alligator, whose body was half
 +concealed by the reeds and water plants, had thrust
 +his monstrous head through one of the leafy sides of
 +the summer-house; his hideous widely opened mouth
 +threatened a young negro of colossal height, who
 +with one arm sustained Marie’s fainting form, whilst
 +with the other he had plunged the iron portion of a
 +hoe between the sharp and pointed teeth of the
 +monster. The reptile struggled fiercely against the
 +bold and courageous hand that held him at bay.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>As I appeared at the door, Marie uttered a cry of
 +joy, and extricating herself from the support of the
 +negro, threw herself into my arms with “I am
 +saved, I am saved!” cried she.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At the movement and exclamation of Marie the
 +negro turned abruptly round, crossed his arms on his
 +breast, and casting a look of infinite sorrow upon my
 +betrothed, remained immovable, taking no heed of
 +the alligator, which, having freed itself from the
 +hoe, was advancing on him in a threatening manner.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>There would have been a speedy end of the
 +courageous negro, had I not rapidly placed Marie on
 +the knees of her nurse, who, more dead than alive,
 +was gazing upon the scene, and, coming close to the
 +monster, discharged my carbine into its yawning
 +mouth. The huge reptile staggered back, its
 +bleeding jaws opened and shut convulsively, its eyes
 +closed, and after one or two unavailing efforts it
 +rolled over upon its back, with its scaly feet stiffening
 +in the air. It was dead. The negro whose life I
 +had so happily preserved turned his head and saw
 +the last convulsive struggles of the monster, then he
 +<span class='pageno' title='126' id='Page_126'></span>
 +fixed his eyes upon Marie, who had again cast
 +herself into my arms, and in accents of the deepest
 +despair, he exclaimed in Spanish, “Why did you
 +kill him?” and, without waiting for a reply, leaped
 +into the thicket and disappeared.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER VI.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> terrible scene, its singular conclusion, the
 +extraordinary mental emotions of every kind which
 +had accompanied and followed my vain researches
 +in the wood, had made my brain whirl. Marie was
 +still stupefied with the danger that she had so
 +narrowly escaped, and some time elapsed before we
 +could frame coherent words, or express ourselves
 +otherwise than by looks and clasping of the hands.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At last I broke the silence.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Come, Marie, let us leave this, some fatality
 +seems attached to the place.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>She rose eagerly, as if she had only been waiting
 +for my permission to do so, and, leaning upon
 +my arm, we quitted the pavilion. I asked her how
 +it had happened that succour had so opportunely
 +arrived when the danger was so imminent, and if
 +she knew who the slave was who had come to her
 +assistance; for that it <span class='it'>was</span> a slave, was shown by his
 +coarse linen trousers—a dress only worn by that
 +unhappy class.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The man,” replied Marie, “is no doubt one of
 +my father’s negroes who was at work in the
 +vicinity when the appearance of the alligator made
 +<span class='pageno' title='127' id='Page_127'></span>
 +me scream, and my cry must have warned him of
 +my danger. All I know is, that he rushed out of
 +the wood and came to my help.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“From which side did he come?” asked I.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“From the opposite side from which the song
 +came, and into which you had just gone.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This statement upset the conclusion that I had
 +been drawing from the Spanish words that the negro
 +had addressed to me, and from the song in the same
 +language by my unknown rival. But yet there was
 +a crowd of other similarities. This negro of great
 +height, and powerful muscular development, might
 +well have been the adversary with whom I had
 +struggled on the preceding night. In that case his
 +half-clothed person would furnish a striking proof.
 +The singer in the wood had said, “I am black”—a
 +further proof.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He had declared himself to be a king, and this one
 +was only a slave, but I recollected that in my brief
 +examination I had been surprised at the noble
 +appearance of his features, though of course accompanied
 +by the characteristic signs of the African
 +race.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The more that I thought of his appearance, the
 +nobleness of his deportment, and his magnificent
 +proportions, I felt that there might be some truth in
 +his statement that he had been a king. But then
 +came the crushing blow to my pride: if he had dared
 +to gaze with an eye of affection upon Marie, if he
 +had made her the object of his serenades, <span class='it'>he</span>, a <span class='it'>negro</span>
 +and a <span class='it'>slave</span>, what punishment could be sufficiently
 +severe for his presumption? With these thoughts
 +<span class='pageno' title='128' id='Page_128'></span>
 +all my indecision returned again, and again my anger
 +increased against the mysterious unknown. But
 +at the moment that these ideas filled my brain,
 +Marie dissipated them entirely by exclaiming, in her
 +gentle voice—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“My Leopold, we must seek out this brave negro,
 +and pay him the debt of gratitude that we owe him,
 +for without him I should have been lost, for you
 +would have arrived too late.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>These few words had a decisive effect; it did not
 +alter my determination to seek out the slave, but it
 +entirely altered the design with which I sought him,
 +for it was to recompense and not to punish him that
 +I was now eager.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>My uncle learned from me that he owed his
 +daughter’s life to the courage of one of his slaves, and
 +he promised me his liberty as soon as I could find
 +him out.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER VII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Up</span> to that time my feelings had restrained me from
 +going into those portions of the plantation where the
 +slaves were at work. It had been too painful for me
 +to see so much suffering which I was powerless to
 +alleviate. But on the day after the events had taken
 +place which I have just narrated, upon my uncle
 +asking me to accompany him on his tour of inspection,
 +I accepted his proposal with eagerness, hoping
 +to meet amongst the labourers the preserver of my
 +much beloved Marie.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I had the opportunity in this visit of seeing how
 +<span class='pageno' title='129' id='Page_129'></span>
 +great a power the master exercises over his slaves,
 +but at the same time I could perceive at what a cost
 +this power was bought, for though at the presence
 +of my uncle all redoubled their efforts, I could perceive
 +that there was as much hatred as terror in the
 +looks that they furtively cast upon him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Irascible by temperament, my uncle seemed vexed
 +at being unable to discover any object upon which to
 +vent his wrath, until Habibrah the buffoon, who
 +was ever at his heels, pointed out to him a young
 +negro, who, overcome by heat and fatigue, had fallen
 +asleep under a clump of date-trees.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>My uncle stepped quickly up to him, shook him
 +violently, and in angry tones ordered him to resume
 +his work.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The terrified slave rose to his feet, and in so doing
 +disclosed a Bengal rose-tree upon which he had
 +accidentally laid, and which my uncle prized highly.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The shrub was entirely destroyed.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At this the master, already irritated at what he
 +called the idleness of his slave, became furious.
 +Foaming with rage, he unhooked from his belt the
 +whip with wire plaited thongs, which he always
 +carried with him on his rounds, and raised his arm
 +to strike the negro who had fallen at his feet.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The whip did not fall.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I shall, as long as I live, never forget that moment.
 +A powerful grasp arrested the hand of the angry
 +planter, and a negro (it was the very one that I was
 +in search of) exclaimed, “Punish me, for I <span class='it'>have</span>
 +offended you, but do not hurt my brother who has
 +but broken your rose-tree.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='130' id='Page_130'></span>
 +This unexpected interposition from the man to
 +whom I owed Marie’s safety, his manner, his look,
 +and the haughty tone of his voice, struck me with
 +surprise. But his generous intervention, far from
 +causing my uncle to blush for his causeless anger,
 +only increased the rage of the incensed master, and
 +turned his anger upon the new-comer.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Exasperated to the highest pitch, my uncle disengaged
 +his arm from the grasp of the tall negro, and
 +pouring out a volley of threats, again raised the whip
 +to strike him. This time, however, it was torn from
 +his hand, and the negro, breaking the handle studded
 +with iron nails as you would break a straw, cast it
 +upon the ground and trampled upon the instrument
 +of degrading punishment.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I was motionless with surprise, my uncle with rage,
 +for it was an unheard-of thing for him to find his
 +authority thus contemned. His eyes appeared ready
 +to start from their sockets, and his lips quivered
 +with passion.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The negro gazed upon him calmly, and then, with
 +a dignified air, he offered him an axe that he held in
 +his hand.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“White man,” said he, “if you wish to strike me,
 +at least take this axe.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>My uncle, beside himself with rage, would certainly
 +have complied with his request, for he stretched out
 +his hand to grasp the dangerous weapon; but I in
 +my turn interfered, and seizing the axe, threw it
 +into the well of a sugar-mill which was close at hand.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What have you done?” asked my uncle, angrily.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I have saved you,” answered I, “from the unhappiness
 +<span class='pageno' title='131' id='Page_131'></span>
 +of striking the preserver of your daughter;
 +it is to this slave that you owe Marie; it is the negro
 +to whom you have promised liberty.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>It was an unfortunate moment in which to remind
 +him of his promise. My words could not soothe the
 +wounded dignity of the planter.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“His liberty!” replied he, savagely. “Yes, he
 +has deserved that an end should be put to his slavery;
 +his liberty indeed! we shall see what sort of liberty
 +the members of a court-martial will accord him.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>These menacing words chilled my blood. In vain
 +did Marie join her entreaties to mine.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The negro whose negligence had been the cause
 +of this scene was punished with a severe flogging,
 +whilst his defender was thrown into the dungeons of
 +Fort Galifet, under the terrible accusation of having
 +assaulted a white man; for a slave who did this, the
 +punishment was invariably death.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER VIII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>You</span> may judge, gentlemen, how much all these circumstances
 +excited my curiosity and interest. I
 +made every inquiry regarding the prisoner, and some
 +strange particulars came to my knowledge. I
 +learned that all his comrades displayed the greatest
 +respect for the young negro. Slave as he was, he
 +had but to make a sign to be implicitly obeyed. He
 +was not born upon the estate, nor did any one know
 +his father or mother: all that was known of him was
 +that some years ago, a slave ship had brought him
 +to St. Domingo. This circumstance rendered the
 +<span class='pageno' title='132' id='Page_132'></span>
 +influence which he exercised over the slaves the more
 +extraordinary, for, as a rule, the negroes born upon
 +the island profess the greatest contempt for the
 +<span class='it'>Congos</span>, a term which they apply to all slaves brought
 +direct from Africa.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Although he seemed a prey to deep dejection, his
 +enormous strength, combined with his great skill, rendered
 +him very valuable in the plantation. He could
 +turn more quickly, and for a longer period than a
 +horse, the wheels of the sugar-mills, and often in a
 +single day performed the work of ten of his companions
 +to save them from the punishment which
 +their negligence or incapacity had rendered them
 +liable. For this reason he was adored by the slaves,
 +but the respect that they paid him was of an entirely
 +different character from the superstitious dread with
 +which they looked upon Habibrah the Jester.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>What was more strange was the modesty and
 +gentleness with which he treated his equals, in contrast
 +to the pride and haughtiness which he displayed
 +to the negroes who acted as overseers. These
 +privileged slaves, the intermediary links in the chain
 +of servitude, too often exceed the little brief authority
 +that is delegated to them, and find a cruel pleasure
 +in overwhelming those beneath them with work.
 +Not one of them, however, had ever dared to inflict
 +any species of punishment on him, for had they done
 +so, twenty negroes would have stepped forward to
 +take his place, whilst he would have looked gravely
 +on, as thought he considered that they were merely
 +performing a duty. The strange being was known
 +throughout the negro quarter as <span class='it'>Pierrot</span>.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='133' id='Page_133'></span></p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER IX.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> whole of these circumstances took a firm hold
 +upon my youthful imagination. Marie, inspired by
 +compassion and gratitude, applauded my enthusiasm,
 +and Pierrot excited our interest so much, that I determined
 +to visit him and offer him my services in
 +extricating him from his perilous position. As the
 +nephew of one of the richest colonists in the Cap,
 +I was, in spite of my youth, a captain in the Acul
 +Militia. This regiment, and a detachment of the
 +Yellow Dragoons, had charge of Fort Galifet; the
 +detachment was commanded by a non-commissioned
 +officer, to whose brother I had once had the good
 +fortune to render an important service, and who
 +therefore was entirely devoted to me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>(Here the listeners at once pronounced the name of
 +Thaddeus.)</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>You are right, gentlemen (replied the captain),
 +and as you may well believe, I had not much trouble
 +in penetrating to the cell in which the negro was
 +confined. As a captain in the militia, I had of course
 +the right to visit the fort; but to evade the suspicions
 +of my uncle, whose rage was still unabated, I took
 +care to go there at the time of his noonday <span class='it'>siesta</span>.
 +All the soldiers too, except those on guard, were
 +asleep, and guided by Thaddeus I came to the door
 +of the cell. He opened it for me, and then discreetly
 +retired.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The negro was seated on the ground, for, on
 +account of his height, he could not stand upright.
 +<span class='pageno' title='134' id='Page_134'></span>
 +He was not alone, an enormous dog was crouched at
 +his feet, which rose with a growl, and moved toward
 +me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Rask,” cried the negro.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The dog ceased growling, and again laid down at
 +his master’s feet, and began eating some coarse food.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I was in uniform, and the daylight that came
 +through the loophole in the wall of the cell was so
 +feeble that Pierrot could not recognize my features.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I am ready,” said he, in a clear voice.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I thought,” remarked I, surprised at the ease
 +with which he moved, “that you were in irons.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He kicked something that jingled.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Irons; oh, I broke them.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>There was something in the tone in which he
 +uttered these words, that seemed to say, “I was not
 +born to wear fetters.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I continued: “I did not know that they had permitted
 +you to have a dog with you.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“They did not allow it; I brought him in.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I was more and more astonished. Three bolts
 +closed the door on the outside, the loophole was
 +scarcely six inches in width, and had two iron bars
 +across it.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He seemed to divine my thoughts, and raising as
 +nearly erect as the low roof would permit, he pulled
 +out with ease a large stone placed under the loophole,
 +removed the iron bars, and displayed an opening
 +sufficiently large to permit two men to pass through.
 +This opening looked upon a grove of bananas and
 +cocoa-nut trees which covered the hill upon which
 +the fort was built.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='135' id='Page_135'></span>
 +Surprise rendered me dumb; at that moment a
 +ray of light fell on my face. The prisoner started as
 +if he had accidentally trodden upon a snake, and his
 +head struck against the ceiling of the cell. A strange
 +mixture of opposing feelings passed over his face—hatred,
 +kindness, and astonishment were all mingled
 +together; but recovering himself with an effort, his
 +face once more became cold and calm, and he gazed
 +upon me as if I was entirely unknown to him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I can live two days more without eating,” said he.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I saw how thin he had become, and made a movement
 +of horror.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He continued, “My dog will only eat from my
 +hand, and had I not enlarged the loophole, poor
 +Rask would have died of hunger. It is better that
 +he should live, for I know that I am condemned to
 +death.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“No,” I said; “no, you shall not die of hunger.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He misunderstood me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Very well,” answered he, with a bitter smile, “I
 +could have lived two days yet without food, but I am
 +ready: to-day is as good as to-morrow. Do not hurt
 +Rask.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then I understood what he meant when he said
 +“I am ready.” Accused of a crime the punishment
 +of which was death, he believed that I had come to
 +announce his immediate execution; and yet this
 +man endowed with herculean strength, with all the
 +avenues of escape open to him, had in a calm and
 +childlike manner repeated “I am ready!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Do not hurt Rask,” said he, once more.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I could restrain myself no longer.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='136' id='Page_136'></span>
 +“What!” I exclaimed, “not only do you take me
 +for your executioner, but you think so meanly of my
 +humanity, that you believe I would injure this poor
 +dog, who has never done me any harm!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>His manner softened, and there was a slight
 +tremor in his voice as he offered me his hand, saying,</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“White man, pardon me, but I love my dog, and
 +your race have cruelly injured me.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I embraced him, I clasped his hand, I did my
 +best to undeceive him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Do you not know me?” asked I.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I know that you are white, and that a negro is
 +nothing in the eyes of men of your colour; besides
 +you have injured me.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“In what manner?” exclaimed I, in surprise.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Have you not twice saved my life?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This strange accusation made me smile; he perceived
 +it, and smiled bitterly.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, I know it too well: once you saved my life
 +from an alligator, and once from a planter, and what
 +is worse I am denied the right to hate you, I am
 +very unhappy.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The strangeness of his language and of his ideas
 +surprised me no longer; it was in harmony with
 +himself.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I owe more to you than you can owe to me. I
 +owe you the life of Marie, of my betrothed.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He started as though he had received some terrible
 +shock. “Marie!” repeated he in stilled tones, and
 +his face fell in his hands which trembled violently,
 +whilst his bosom rose and fell with heavy sighs.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I must confess that once again my suspicions were
 +<span class='pageno' title='137' id='Page_137'></span>
 +aroused, but this time there were no feelings of anger
 +or jealousy. I was too near my happiness, and he
 +was trembling upon the brink of death, so that I
 +could not for a moment look upon him as a rival, and
 +even had I done so, his forlorn condition would have
 +excited my compassion and sympathy.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At last he raised his head.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Go,” said he; “do not thank me.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>After a pause he added, “And yet my rank is as
 +lofty as your own.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>These last words roused my curiosity, I urged him
 +to tell me of his position, and his sufferings, but he
 +maintained an obstinate silence.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>My proceedings, however, had touched his heart,
 +and my entreaties appeared to have vanquished his
 +distaste for life. He left his cell, and in a short time
 +returned with some bananas and a large cocoa-nut.
 +Then he reclosed the opening and began to eat. As
 +we conversed, I remarked that he spoke French and
 +Spanish with equal facility, and that his education
 +had not been entirely neglected. He knew many
 +Spanish songs, which he sang with great feeling.
 +Altogether he was a mystery that I endeavoured in
 +vain to solve, for he would give me no key to the
 +riddle. At last, with regret, I was compelled to leave
 +him, after having urged on my faithful Thaddeus to
 +permit him every possible indulgence.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER X.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Every</span> day at the same hour I visited him. His
 +position rendered me very uneasy, for in spite of all
 +<span class='pageno' title='138' id='Page_138'></span>
 +our prayers, my uncle obstinately refused to withdraw
 +his complaint. I did not conceal my fears from
 +Pierrot, who however listened to them with indifference.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Often Rask would come in with a large palm-leaf
 +tied round his neck. His master would take it off,
 +read some lines traced upon it in an unknown
 +language, and then tear it up. I had ceased to
 +question him in any matters connected with himself.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>One day as I entered he took no notice of me, he
 +was seated with his back to the door of the cell, and
 +was whistling in melancholy mood the Spanish air,
 +“Yo que soy contrabandista” (“A smuggler am I”).
 +When he had completed it, he turned sharply round
 +to me, and exclaimed—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Brother, if you ever doubt me, promise that you
 +will cast aside all suspicion on hearing me sing this
 +air.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>His look was earnest, and I promised what he
 +asked, without noticing the words upon which he laid
 +so much stress, “<span class='it'>If ever you doubt me</span>.” He took
 +the empty half of a cocoa-nut which he had brought
 +in on the day of my first visit, and had preserved
 +ever since, filled it which palm wine, begged me to
 +put my lips to it, and then drank it off at a draught.
 +From that day he always called me <span class='it'>brother</span>.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>And now I began to cherish a hope of saving
 +Pierrot’s life. My uncle’s anger had cooled down a
 +little. The preparations for the festivities, connected
 +with his daughter’s wedding had caused his feelings
 +to flow in gentle channels. Marie joined her entreaties
 +to mine. Each day I pointed out to him
 +<span class='pageno' title='139' id='Page_139'></span>
 +that Pierrot had had no desire to insult him, but had
 +merely interposed to prevent him from committing
 +an act of perhaps too great severity; that the negro
 +had at the risk of his life saved Marie from the
 +alligator; and besides, Pierrot was the strongest of all
 +his slaves (for now I sought to save his life not to
 +obtain his liberty), that he was able to do the work of
 +ten men, and that his single arm was sufficient to
 +put the rollers of a sugar-mill in motion. My uncle
 +listened to me calmly, and once or twice hinted that
 +he might not follow up his complaint.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I did not say a word to the negro of the change
 +that had taken place, hoping that I should soon be
 +the messenger to announce to him his restoration to
 +liberty.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>What astonished me greatly was, that though he
 +believed that he was under sentence of death, yet he
 +made no effort to avail himself of the means of
 +escape that lay in his power. I spoke to him of this.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I am forced to remain,” said he simply, “or they
 +would think that I was afraid.”</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XI.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>One</span> morning Marie came to me, she was radiant
 +with happiness, and upon her gentle face was a
 +sweeter expression than even the joys of pure love
 +could produce, for written upon it was the knowledge
 +of a good deed.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Listen,” said she. “In three days we shall be
 +married. We shall soon——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I interrupted her.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='140' id='Page_140'></span>
 +“Do not say <span class='it'>soon</span>, Marie, when there is yet an
 +interval of three days.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>She blushed and smiled.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Do not be foolish, Leopold,” replied she. “An
 +idea has struck me which has made me very happy.
 +You know that yesterday I went to town with my
 +father to buy all sort’s of things for our wedding. I
 +only care for jewels because you say that they become
 +me. I would give all my pearls for a single
 +flower from the bouquet which that odious man with
 +the marigolds destroyed. But that is not what I
 +meant to say. My father wished to buy me everything
 +that I admired, and amongst other things there
 +was a <span class='it'>basquina</span> of Chinese satin embroidered with
 +flowers, which I admired. It was very expensive.
 +My father noticed that the dress had attracted my
 +attention. As we were returning home, I begged
 +him to promise me a boon after the manner of the
 +knights of old—you know how he delights to be
 +compared to them. He vowed on his honour that
 +he would grant me whatever I asked, thinking of
 +course that it was the <span class='it'>basquina</span> of Chinese satin; but
 +no, it is Pierrot’s pardon that I will ask for as my
 +nuptial present.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I could not refrain from embracing her tenderly.
 +My uncle’s word was sacred, and whilst Marie ran
 +to him to claim its fulfilment, I hastened to Fort
 +Galifet to convey the glad news to Pierrot.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Brother,” exclaimed I, as I entered, “Rejoice,
 +your life is safe; Marie has obtained it as a wedding
 +present from her father.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The slave shuddered.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='141' id='Page_141'></span>
 +“Marie—wedding—my life! What reference have
 +these things to each other?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It is very simple,” answered I. “Marie, whose
 +life you saved, is to be married——.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“To whom?” exclaimed the negro, a terrible
 +change coming over his face.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Did you not know that she was to be married to
 +me?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>His features relaxed.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Ah, yes,” he replied; “and when is the marriage
 +to take place?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“On August the 22nd.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“On August the 22nd! Are you mad?” cried he,
 +with terror painted in his countenance.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He stopped abruptly; I looked at him with astonishment.
 +After a short pause he clasped my hand—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Brother,” said he, “I owe you so much that I
 +must give you a warning. Trust to me, take up your
 +residence in Cap, and get married before the 22nd.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>In vain I entreated him to explain his mysterious
 +wards.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Farewell,” said he, in solemn tones; “I have
 +perhaps said too much, but I hate ingratitude even
 +more than perjury.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I left the prison a prey to feelings of great uneasiness;
 +but all these were soon effaced by the thoughts
 +of my approaching happiness.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>That very day my uncle withdrew his charge,
 +and I returned to the Fort to release Pierrot. Thaddeus,
 +on hearing the noise, accompanied me to the
 +prisoner’s cell, but he was gone! Rask alone remained,
 +and came up to me wagging his tail. To
 +<span class='pageno' title='142' id='Page_142'></span>
 +his neck was fastened a palm-leaf, upon which were
 +written these words: “Thanks; for the third time
 +you have saved my life. Do not forget your promise,
 +friend;” whilst underneath, in lieu of signature,
 +were the words: “Yo que soy contrabandista.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Thaddeus was even more astonished than I was,
 +for he was ignorant of the enlargement of the loophole,
 +and firmly believed that the negro had changed
 +himself into a dog. I allowed him to remain in this
 +belief, contenting myself with making him promise
 +to say nothing of what he had seen. I wished to
 +take Rask home with me, but on leaving the Fort
 +he plunged into a thicket and disappeared.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>My</span> uncle was furiously enraged at the escape of the
 +negro. He ordered a diligent search to be made for
 +him, and wrote to the Governor placing Pierrot entirely
 +at his disposal should he be re-taken.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The 22nd of August arrived. My union with
 +Maria was celebrated with every species of rejoicing
 +at the parish church of Acul. How happily did that
 +day commence from which all our misfortunes were
 +to date!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I was intoxicated with my happiness, and Pierrot
 +and his mysterious warning were entirely banished
 +from my thoughts. At last the day came to a close,
 +and my wife had retired to her apartments; but for
 +a time duty forbade me joining her there. My position
 +as a captain of militia required me that evening
 +<span class='pageno' title='143' id='Page_143'></span>
 +to make the round of the guards posted about Acul.
 +This nightly precaution was absolutely necessary
 +owing to the disturbed state of the colony, caused by
 +occasional outbreaks amongst the negroes, which,
 +however, had been promptly repressed. My uncle was
 +the first to recall me to the recollection of my duty.
 +I had no option but to yield, and, putting on my
 +uniform, I went out. I visited the first few guards
 +without discovering any cause of alarm; but towards
 +midnight, as half buried in my own thoughts I was
 +patrolling the shores of the bay, I perceived upon the
 +horizon a ruddy light in the direction of Limonade
 +and Saint Louis du Morin. At first my escort attributed
 +it to some accidental conflagration; but in a
 +few moments the flames became so vivid, and the
 +smoke rising before the wind grew so thick, that I
 +ordered an immediate return to the Fort to give the
 +alarm, and to request that help might be sent in the
 +direction of the fire.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>In passing through the quarters of the negroes
 +who belonged to our estate, I was surprised at the
 +extreme disorder that reigned there. The majority
 +of the slaves were afoot, and were talking together
 +with great earnestness. One strange word was
 +pronounced with the greatest respect—it was <span class='it'>Bug-Jargal</span>—and
 +occurred continually in the almost unintelligible
 +dialect that they used.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>From a word or two which I gathered here and
 +there, I learned that the negroes of the northern districts
 +were in open revolt, and had set fire to the
 +dwelling-houses and the plantations on the other
 +side of Cap.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='144' id='Page_144'></span>
 +Passing through a marshy spot, I discovered a
 +quantity of axes and other tools, which would serve
 +as weapons, hidden amongst the reeds. My suspicions
 +were now thoroughly aroused, and I ordered
 +the whole of the Acul militia to get under arms, and
 +gave the command to my lieutenant, and, whilst my
 +poor Marie was expecting me, I, obeying my uncle’s
 +orders, who, as I have mentioned, was a member of
 +the Provincial Assembly, took the road to Cap, with
 +such soldiers as I had been able to muster. I shall
 +never forget the appearance of the town as we approached.
 +The flames from the plantations which
 +were burning all around it, threw a lurid light upon
 +the scene, which was only partially obscured by the
 +clouds of smoke which the wind drove into the
 +narrow streets. Immense masses of sparks rose
 +from the burning heaps of sugar-cane, and fell like
 +fiery snow on the roofs of the houses, and on the
 +rigging of the vessels at anchor in the roadsteads, at
 +every moment threatening the town of Cap with as
 +serious a conflagration as was already raging in its
 +immediate neighbourhood. It was a terrible sight
 +to witness the terror-stricken inhabitants exposing
 +their lives to preserve from so destructive a visitant
 +their habitations, which perhaps was the last portion
 +of property left to them; whilst, on the other hand,
 +the vessels, taking advantage of a fair wind, and
 +fearing the same fate, had already set sail, and were
 +gliding over an ocean reddened by the flames of the
 +conflagration.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='145' id='Page_145'></span></p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XIII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Stunned</span> by the noise of the minute-guns from the
 +Fort, by the cries of the fugitives, and the distant
 +crash of falling buildings, I did not know in what
 +direction to lead my men; but, meeting in the main
 +square the captain of the Yellow Dragoons, he advised
 +me to proceed direct to the Governor.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Other hands have painted the disasters of Cap, and
 +I must pass quickly over my recollections of them,
 +written as they are in fire and blood. I will content
 +myself with saying that the insurgent slaves were
 +already masters of Dondon, of Terrier-Rouge, of
 +the town of Ouanaminte, and of the plantation of
 +Limbé. This last news filled me with uneasiness,
 +owing to the proximity of Limbé to Acul. I made
 +all speed to the Government House. All was in
 +confusion there. I asked for orders, and begged that
 +instant measures might be taken for the security of
 +Acul, which I feared the insurgents were already
 +threatening. With the Governor, Monsieur de
 +Blanchelande, were M. de Rouvray, the Brigadier,
 +and one of the largest landholders in Cap; M. de
 +Touzard, the Lieutenant-Colonel of the Regiment of
 +Cap; a great many members of the Colonial and
 +the Provincial Assemblies, and numbers of the leading
 +colonists. As I entered, all were engaged in a
 +confused argument.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Your Excellency,” said a member of the Provincial
 +Assembly, “it is only too true, it is the
 +negroes, and not the free mulattoes; it has often
 +<span class='pageno' title='146' id='Page_146'></span>
 +been pointed out that there was danger in that
 +direction.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You make that statement without believing in
 +its truth,” answered a member of the Colonial Assembly,
 +bitterly, “and you only say it to gain credit
 +at our expense. So far from expecting a rising of
 +the slaves, you got up a sham one in 1789. A
 +ridiculous farce in which with a supposed insurgent
 +force of three thousand slaves, <span class='it'>one</span> national volunteer
 +only was killed, and that most likely by his own
 +comrades.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I repeat,” replied the <span class='it'>Provincial</span>, “that we can
 +see farther than you. It is only natural. We
 +remain upon the spot and study the minutest details
 +of the colony, whilst you and your Assembly hurry
 +off to France to make some absurd proposals; which
 +are often met with a national reprimand <span class='it'>Ridiculus
 +mus</span>.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The member of the Colonial Assembly answered
 +with a sneer—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Our fellow citizens re-elected us all without hesitation.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It was your Assembly,” retorted the other,
 +“that caused the execution of that poor devil who
 +neglected to wear a tricolored cockade in a <span class='it'>café</span>, and
 +who commenced a petition for capital punishment
 +to be inflicted on the mulatto Lacombe with that
 +worn-out phrase, ‘In the name of the Father, of the
 +Son, and the Holy Ghost.’ ”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It is false,” exclaimed the other; “there has
 +always been a struggle of principles against privileges
 +between our assemblies.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='147' id='Page_147'></span>
 +“Ha, Monsieur, I see now you are an <span class='it'>Independent</span>.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“That is tantamount to allowing that you are in
 +favour of the <span class='it'>White Cockade</span>: I leave you to get out
 +of that confession as best you may.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>More might have passed, but the Governor interposed.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Gentlemen, gentlemen, what has this to do with
 +the present state of affairs, and the pressing danger
 +that threatens us? Listen to the reports that I
 +have received. The revolt began this night at ten
 +o’clock amongst the slaves in the Turpin Plantation.
 +The negroes, headed by an English slave named
 +Bouckmann, were joined by the blacks from Clement,
 +Trémés, Flaville, and Nöe. They set fire to all
 +the plantations, and massacred the colonists with
 +the most unheard-of barbarities. By one single detail
 +I can make you comprehend all the horrors accompanying
 +this insurrection. The standard of the
 +insurgents is the body of a white child on the point
 +of a pike.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A general cry of horror interrupted the Governor’s
 +statement.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“So much,” continued he, “for what has passed
 +outside the town. Within its limits all is confusion.
 +Fear has rendered many of the inhabitants forgetful
 +of the duties of humanity, and they have murdered
 +their slaves. Nearly every one have confined their
 +negroes behind bolts and bars. The white artisans
 +accuse the free mulattoes of being participators in
 +the revolt, and many have had great difficulty in
 +escaping from the fury of the populace. I have had
 +<span class='pageno' title='148' id='Page_148'></span>
 +to grant them a place of refuge in a church, guarded
 +by a regiment of soldiers; and now, to prove that
 +they have nothing in common with the insurgents,
 +they asked that they may be armed and led against
 +the rebels.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Do nothing of the kind, your Excellency,” cried
 +a voice which I recognized as that of the planter
 +with whom I had had a duel. “Do nothing of the
 +kind; give no arms to the mulattoes.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What, do you not want to fight?” asked a
 +planter, with a sneer.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The other did not appear to hear him, and continued:
 +“These men of mixed blood are our worst
 +enemies, and we must take every precaution against
 +them. It is from that quarter that the insurgents
 +are recruited; the negroes have but little to do with
 +the rising.” The poor wretch hoped by his abuse
 +of the mulattoes to prove that he had nothing in
 +common with them, and to clear himself from the
 +imputation of having black blood in his veins; but
 +the attempt was too barefaced, and a murmur of
 +disgust rose up on all sides.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” said M. de Rouvray, “the slaves <span class='it'>have</span>
 +something to do with it, for they are forty to one;
 +and we should be in a serious plight if we could only
 +oppose the negroes and the mulattoes with whites
 +like you.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The planter bit his lips.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“General,” said the Governor, “what answer shall
 +be given to the petition: shall the mulattoes have the
 +arms?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Give them weapons, your Excellency; let us
 +<span class='pageno' title='149' id='Page_149'></span>
 +make use of every willing hand. And you, sir,” he
 +added, turning to the colonist of doubtful colour.
 +“Go arm yourself, and join your comrades.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The humiliated planter slunk away, filled with
 +concentrated rage.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>But the cries of distress which rang through the
 +town reached even to the chamber in which the
 +council was being held. M. de Blanchelande hastily
 +pencilled a few words upon a slip of paper, and
 +handed it to one of his aides-de-camp, who at once
 +left the room.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Gentlemen, the mulattoes will receive arms; but
 +there are many more questions to be settled.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The Provincial Assembly should at once be
 +convoked,” said the planter who had been speaking
 +when first I entered.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The Provincial Assembly?” retorted his antagonist;
 +“what is the Provincial Assembly?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You do not know because you are a member of
 +the Colonial Assembly,” replied the favourer of the
 +<span class='it'>White Cockade</span>.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The <span class='it'>Independent</span> interrupted him. “I know no
 +more of the Colonial than the Provincial—I only
 +recognize the General Assembly.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Gentlemen,” exclaimed a planter, “whilst we
 +are losing time with this nonsense, tell me what is
 +to become of my cotton and my cochineal?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“And my indigo at Lumbé?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“And my negroes, for whom I paid twenty dollars
 +a-head all round?” said the captain of a slave ship.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Each minute that you waste,” continued another
 +colonist, “costs me ten quintals of sugar, which at
 +<span class='pageno' title='150' id='Page_150'></span>
 +seventeen piastres the quintal makes one hundred
 +and thirty livres, ten sous, in French money, by
 +the——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Here the rival upholders of the two Assemblies
 +again sought to renew their argument.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Morbleu,” said M. de Rouvray in a voice of
 +thunder, striking the table violently, “what eternal
 +talkers you are! What do we care about your two
 +assemblies. Summon both of them, your Excellency,
 +and I will form them into two regiments, and when
 +they march against the negroes we shall see whether
 +their tongues or their muskets make the most noise.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then turning towards me he whispered—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Between the two Assemblies and the Governor
 +nothing can be done. These fine talkers spoil all, as
 +they do in Paris. If I was seated in his Excellency’s
 +chair, I would throw all these fellows out of the
 +window, and with my soldiers and a dozen crosses of
 +St. Louis to promise, I would sweep away all the
 +rebels in the island. These fictitious ideas of liberty,
 +which they have all run mad after in France, do not
 +do out here. Negroes should be treated so as not to
 +upset them entirely by sudden liberation; all the
 +terrible events of to-day are merely the result of this
 +utterly mistaken policy, and this rising of the slaves
 +is the natural result of the taking of the Bastille.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Whilst the old soldier thus explained to me his
 +views—a little narrow-minded perhaps, but full of
 +the frankness of conviction—the stormy argument
 +was at its height. A certain planter, one amongst
 +the few who were bitten with the rabid mania of the
 +revolution, and who called himself Citizen General
 +<span class='pageno' title='151' id='Page_151'></span>
 +C——, because he had assisted at a few sanguinary
 +executions, exclaimed—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“We must have punishments rather than battles.
 +Every nation must exist by terrible examples; let us
 +terrify the negroes. It was I who quieted the slaves
 +during the risings of June and July by lining the
 +approach to my house with a double row of negro
 +heads. Let each one join me in this, and let us
 +defend the entrances to Cap with the slaves who are
 +still in our hands.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“How?” “What do you mean?” “Folly,
 +“The height of imprudence,” was heard on all sides.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You do not understand me, gentlemen. Let us
 +make a ring of negro heads, from Fort Picolet to
 +Point Caracole. The rebels, their comrades, will
 +not then dare to approach us. I have five hundred
 +slaves who have remained faithful—I offer them at
 +once.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This abominable proposal was received with a cry
 +of horror.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It is infamous! It is too disgusting!” was repeated
 +by at least a dozen voices.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Extreme steps of this sort have brought us to
 +the verge of destruction,” said a planter. “If the
 +execution of the insurgents of June and July had not
 +been so hurried on, we should have held in our hands
 +the clue to the conspiracy, which the axe of the
 +executioner divided for ever.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Citizen C—— was silenced for a moment by this
 +outburst; then in an injured tone he muttered—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I did not think that <span class='it'>I</span>, above all others, should
 +have been suspected of cruelty. Why, all my life
 +<span class='pageno' title='152' id='Page_152'></span>
 +I have been mixed up with the lovers of the negro
 +race. I am in correspondence with Briscot and
 +Pruneau de Pomme-Gouge, in France; with Hans
 +Sloane, in England; with Magaw, in America; with
 +Pezll, in Germany; with Olivarius, in Denmark;
 +with Wadstiörn, in Sweden; with Peter Paulus, in
 +Holland; with Avendaño, in Spain; and with the
 +Abbé Pierre Tamburini, in Italy!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>His voice rose as he ran through the names of his
 +correspondents amongst the lovers of the African
 +race, and he terminated his speech with the contemptuous
 +remark—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“But, after all, there are no true philosophers
 +here.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>For the third time M. de Blanchelande asked if
 +any one had anything further to propose.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Your Excellency,” cried one, “let us embark on
 +board the <span class='it'>Leopard</span>, which lies at anchor off the quay.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Let us put a price on the head of Bouckmann,
 +exclaimed another.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Send a report of what has taken place to the
 +Governor of Jamaica,” suggested a third.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“A good idea, so that he may again send us the
 +ironical help of five hundred muskets!” sneered a
 +member of the Provincial Assembly. “Your Excellency,
 +let us send the news to France, and wait
 +for a reply.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Wait—a likely thing indeed,” exclaimed M. de
 +Rouvray; “and do you think that the blacks will
 +wait, eh? And the flames that encircle our town,
 +do you think that they will wait? Your Excellency,
 +let the tocsin be sounded, and send dragoons and
 +<span class='pageno' title='153' id='Page_153'></span>
 +grenadiers in search of the main body of the rebels.
 +Form a camp in the eastern division of the island;
 +plant military posts at Trou and at Vallieres. I will
 +take charge of the plain of Dauphin; but let us lose
 +no more time, for the moment for action has arrived.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The bold and energetic speech of the veteran
 +soldier hushed all differences of opinion. The
 +general had acted wisely. That secret knowledge
 +which every one possesses most conducive to his
 +own interests, caused all to support the proposal of
 +General de Rouvray; and whilst the Governor with
 +a warm clasp of the hand showed his old friend that
 +his counsels had been appreciated, though they had
 +been given in rather a dictatorial manner, the
 +colonists urged for the immediate carrying out of the
 +proposals.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I seized the opportunity to obtain from M. de
 +Blanchelande the permission that I so ardently
 +desired, and, leaving the room, mustered my company
 +in order to return to Acul—though, with the exception
 +of myself, all were worn out with the fatigue of their
 +late march.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XIV.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Day</span> began to break as I entered the market-place
 +of the town, and began to rouse up the soldiers, who
 +were lying about in all directions wrapped in their
 +cloaks, and mingled pell-mell with the Red and Yellow
 +Dragoons, fugitives from the country, cattle bellowing,
 +and property of every description sent in for security
 +by the planters. In the midst of all this confusion
 +<span class='pageno' title='154' id='Page_154'></span>
 +I began to pick out my men, when I saw a private
 +in the Yellow Dragoons, covered with dust and perspiration,
 +ride up at full speed. I hastened to meet
 +him, and in a few broken words he informed me that
 +my fears were realized—that the insurrection had
 +spread to Acul, and that the negroes were besieging
 +Fort Galifet, in which the planters and the militia
 +had taken refuge. I must tell you that this fort was
 +by no means a strong one, for in St. Domingo they
 +dignify the slightest earthwork with the name of
 +fort.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>There was not a moment to be lost. I mounted as
 +many of my soldiers as I could procure horses for,
 +and taking the dragoon as a guide, I reached my
 +uncle’s plantation about ten o’clock. I scarcely cast
 +a glance at the enormous estate, which was nothing
 +but a sea of flame, over which hovered huge clouds
 +of smoke, through which every now and then the
 +wind bore trunks of trees covered with sparks. A
 +terrible rustling and crackling sound seemed to
 +reply to the distant yells of the negroes which we
 +now began to hear, though we could not as yet see
 +them. The destruction of all this wealth, which
 +would eventually have become mine, did not cause
 +me a moment’s regret. All I thought of was the
 +safety of Marie—what mattered anything else in the
 +world to me? I knew that she had taken refuge in
 +the fort, and I prayed to God that I might arrive in
 +time to rescue her. This hope sustained me through
 +all the anxiety I felt, and gave me the strength and
 +courage of a lion. At length a turn in the road
 +permitted us to see the fort. The tricolour yet
 +<span class='pageno' title='155' id='Page_155'></span>
 +floated on its walls, and a well-sustained fire was
 +kept up by the garrison. I uttered a shout of joy.
 +“Gallop, spur on!” said I to my men, and redoubling
 +our pace we dashed across the fields in the direction
 +of the scene of action.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Near the fort I could see my uncle’s house; the
 +doors and windows were dashed in, but the walls
 +still stood, and shone red with the reflected glare of
 +the flames, which, owing to the wind being in a contrary
 +direction, had not yet reached the building.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A crowd of the insurgents had taken possession of
 +the house, and showed themselves at the windows
 +and on the roof. I could see the glare of torches and
 +the gleam of pikes and axes, whilst a brisk fire of
 +musketry was kept up on the fort.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Another strong body of negroes had placed ladders
 +against the walls of the fort and strove to take it by
 +assault, though many fell under the well-directed
 +fire of the defenders.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>These black men always returning to the charge
 +after each repulse, looked like a swarm of ants endeavouring
 +to scale the shell of a tortoise, and shaken
 +off by each movement of the sluggish reptile.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>We reached the outworks of the fort, our eyes
 +fixed upon the banner which still floated above it. I
 +called upon my men to remember that their wives
 +and children were shut up within those walls, and I
 +urged them to fly to their rescue. A general cheer
 +was the reply, and, forming column, I was on the
 +point of giving the order to charge, when a loud
 +yell was heard, a cloud of smoke enveloped the fort,
 +and for a time concealed it from our sight; a roar
 +<span class='pageno' title='156' id='Page_156'></span>
 +was heard like that of a furnace in full blast, and as
 +it cleared away we saw a red flag floating proudly
 +above the dismantled walls. All was over. Fort
 +Galifet was in the hands of the insurgents.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XV.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>I cannot</span> tell you what my feelings were at this
 +terrible spectacle. The fort was taken, its defenders
 +slain, and twenty families massacred; but I confess,
 +to my shame, that I thought not of this. Marie was
 +lost to me—lost, after having been made mine but a
 +few brief hours before. Lost, perhaps, through my
 +fault, for had I not obeyed the orders of my uncle in
 +going to Cap I should have been by her side to defend
 +her, or at least to die with her. These thoughts
 +raised my grief to madness, for my despair was born
 +of remorse.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>However, my men were maddened at the sight.
 +With a shout of “Revenge,” with sabres between their
 +teeth and pistols in either hand, they burst into the
 +ranks of the victorious insurgents. Although far
 +superior in numbers the negroes fled at their approach;
 +but we could see them on our right and left, before
 +and behind us, slaughtering the colonists, and casting
 +fuel on the flames. Our rage was increased by
 +their cowardly conduct.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Thaddeus, covered with wounds, made his escape
 +through a postern gate. “Captain,” said he, “your
 +Pierrot is a sorcerer, an <span class='it'>obi</span> as these infernal negroes
 +call him—a devil, I say. We were holding our position,
 +<span class='pageno' title='157' id='Page_157'></span>
 +you were coming up fast; all seemed saved—when
 +by some means, which I do not know, he penetrated
 +into the fort, and there was an end of us. As
 +for your uncle and Madam——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Marie,” interrupted I, “where is Marie?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At this instant a tall black burst through a blazing
 +fence, carrying in his arms a young woman who
 +shrieked and struggled: it was Marie, and the negro
 +was Pierrot!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Traitor,” cried I.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I fired my pistol at him; one of the rebels threw
 +himself in the way, and fell dead. Pierrot turned, and
 +addressed a few words to me which I did not catch;
 +and then grasping his prey tighter, dashed into a
 +mass of burning sugar-canes. A moment afterwards
 +a huge dog passed me, carrying in his mouth a cradle
 +in which lay my uncle’s youngest child. Transported
 +with rage, I fired my second pistol at him; but it
 +missed fire. Like a madman I followed on their
 +tracks; but my night march, the hours that I had
 +spent without taking rest or food, my fears for Marie,
 +and the sudden fall from the height of happiness to
 +the depth of misery, had worn me out. After a few
 +steps I staggered, a cloud seemed to come over me,
 +and I fell senseless.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XVI.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>When</span> I recovered my senses I found myself in my
 +uncle’s ruined house, supported in the arms of my
 +faithful Thaddeus, who gazed upon me with an expression
 +<span class='pageno' title='158' id='Page_158'></span>
 +of the deepest anxiety. “Victory!” exclaimed
 +he, as he felt my pulse begin to beat.
 +“Victory! the negroes are in full retreat and my
 +captain has come to life again.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I interrupted his exclamations of joy by putting
 +the only question in which I had any interest.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Where is Marie?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I had not yet collected my scattered ideas: I felt my
 +misfortune, without the recollection of it. At my
 +question Thaddeus hung his head.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then my memory returned to me, and, like a
 +hideous dream, I recalled once more the terrible
 +nuptial day, and the tall negro bearing away Marie
 +through the flames.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The flame of rebellion which had broken out in the
 +colony caused the whites to look on the blacks as
 +their mortal enemies, and made me see in Pierrot,
 +the good, the generous, and the devoted, who owed
 +his life three times to me, a monster of ingratitude
 +and a rival.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The carrying off of my wife on the very night of
 +our nuptials proved too plainly to me, what I had
 +at first only suspected, and I now knew that the
 +singer of the wood was the wretch who had torn my
 +wife from me. In a few hours how great a change
 +had taken place.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Thaddeus told me that he had vainly pursued
 +Pierrot and his dog when the negroes, in spite of their
 +numbers, retired, and that the destruction of my
 +uncle’s property still continued, without the possibility
 +of its being arrested.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I asked what had become of my uncle. He took my
 +<span class='pageno' title='159' id='Page_159'></span>
 +hand in silence and led me to a bed, the curtains of
 +which he drew.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>My unhappy uncle was there, stretched upon his
 +blood-stained couch, with a dagger driven deeply into
 +his heart. By the tranquil expression of his face it
 +was easy to see that the blow had been struck during
 +his sleep.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The bed of the dwarf Habibrah, who always slept at
 +the foot of his master’s couch, was also profusely
 +stained with gore, and the same crimson traces could
 +be seen upon the laced coat of the poor fool, cast
 +upon the floor a few paces from the bed.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I did not hesitate for a moment in believing that
 +the dwarf had died a victim to his affection for my
 +uncle, and that he had been murdered by his comrades,
 +perhaps in the effort to defend his master. I
 +reproached myself bitterly for the prejudice which
 +had caused me to form so erroneous an estimate of
 +the characters of Pierrot and Habibrah; and of the
 +tears I shed at the tragic fate of my uncle, some were
 +dedicated to the end of the faithful fool.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>By my orders his body was carefully searched for,
 +but all in vain, and I imagined that the negroes had
 +cast the body into the flames; and I gave instructions
 +that, in the funeral service over my uncle’s remains,
 +prayers should be said for the repose of the soul of
 +the devoted Habibrah.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XVII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Fort</span> Galifet had been destroyed, our house was
 +in ruins; it was useless to linger there any longer, so
 +<span class='pageno' title='160' id='Page_160'></span>
 +that evening I returned to Cap. On my arrival there
 +I was seized with a severe fever. The effort that I
 +had made to overcome my despair had been too
 +violent; the spring had been bent too far and had
 +snapped. Delirium came on. My broken hopes,
 +my profound love, my lost future, and, above all, the
 +torments of jealousy, made my brain reel.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>It seemed as if fire flowed in my veins; my head
 +seemed ready to burst, and my bosom was filled with
 +rage. I pictured to myself Marie in the arms of
 +another lover, subject to the power of a master, of a
 +slave, of Pierrot! They told me afterwards that I
 +sprang from my bed, and that it took six men to
 +prevent me from dashing out my brains against the
 +wall. Why did I not die then?</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The crisis, however, passed. The doctors, the
 +care and attention of Thaddeus, and the latent
 +powers of youth, conquered the malady; would that
 +it had not done so. At the end of ten days I was
 +sufficiently recovered to lay aside grief, and to live
 +for vengeance.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Hardly arrived at a state of convalescence, I went
 +to M. de Blanchelande, and asked for employment.
 +At first he wished to give me the command of some
 +fortified post, but I begged him to attach me to one
 +of the flying columns, which from time to time were
 +sent out to sweep those districts in which the insurgents
 +had congregated. Cap had been hastily
 +put in a position of defence, for the revolt had made
 +terrible progress, and the negroes of Port au Prince
 +had begun to show symptoms of disaffection. Biassou
 +was in command of the insurgents at Lumbé, Dondon,
 +<span class='pageno' title='161' id='Page_161'></span>
 +and Acul; Jean François had proclaimed himself
 +generalissimo of the rebels of Maribarou, and
 +Bouckmann, whose tragic fate afterwards gave him
 +a certain celebrity, with his brigands ravaged the
 +plains of Limonade; and lastly, the bands of Morne-Rouge
 +had elected for their chief a negro called
 +Bug-Jargal.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>If report was to be believed, the disposition of this
 +man contrasted very favourably with the ferocity of
 +the other chiefs. Whilst Bouckmann and Biassou
 +invented a thousand different methods of death for
 +such prisoners as fell into their hands, Bug-Jargal
 +was always ready to supply them with the means of
 +quitting the island. M. Colas de Marjue, and eight
 +other distinguished colonists, were by his orders
 +released from the terrible death of the wheel to
 +which Bouckmann had condemned them, and many
 +other instances of his humanity were cited, which I
 +have not time to repeat.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>My hoped for vengeance, however, still appeared
 +to be far removed. I could hear nothing of Pierrot.
 +The insurgents commanded by Biassou continued to
 +give us trouble at Cap; they had once even endeavoured
 +to take position on a hill that commanded
 +the town, and had only been dislodged by the battery
 +from the citadel being directed upon them.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The Governor had therefore determined to drive
 +them into the interior of the island. The militia of
 +Acul, of Lumbé, of Ouanaminte, and of Maribarou,
 +joined with the regiment of Cap, and the Red and
 +Yellow Dragoons, formed one army of attack; whilst
 +the corps of volunteers under the command of the
 +<span class='pageno' title='162' id='Page_162'></span>
 +merchant Poncignon, with the militia of Dondon
 +and Quartier-Dauphin, composed the garrison of the
 +town.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The Governor desired first to free himself from
 +Bug-Jargal, whose incursions kept the garrison constantly
 +on the alert, and he sent against him the
 +militia of Ouanaminte, and a battalion of the regiment
 +of Cap. Two days afterwards the expedition returned,
 +having sustained a severe defeat at the hands of
 +Bug-Jargal. The Governor, however, determined to
 +persevere, and a fresh column was sent out with
 +fifty of the Yellow Dragoons and four hundred of
 +the militia of Maribarou. This second expedition
 +met with even less success than the first. Thaddeus,
 +who had taken part in it, was in a violent fury, and
 +upon his return vowed vengeance against the rebel
 +chief Bug-Jargal.</p>
 +
 +<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A tear glistened in the eyes of D’Auverney; he
 +crossed his arms on his breast, and appeared to be
 +for a few moments plunged in a melancholy reverie.
 +At length he continued.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XVIII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> news had reached us that Bug-Jargal had left
 +Morne-Rouge, and was moving through the mountains
 +to effect a junction with the troops of Biassou. The
 +Governor could not conceal his delight. “We have
 +them,” cried he, rubbing his hands. “They are in
 +our power.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='163' id='Page_163'></span>
 +By the next morning the colonial forces had
 +marched some four miles to the front of Cap. At
 +our approach the insurgents hastily retired from the
 +positions which they had occupied at Port-Mayat
 +and Fort Galifet, and in which they had planted
 +siege guns which they had captured in one of the
 +batteries on the coast. The Governor was triumphant,
 +and by his orders we continued our advance. As we
 +passed through the arid plains and the ruined plantations,
 +many a one cast an eager glance in search
 +of the spot which was once his home, but in too
 +many cases the foot of the destroyer had left no traces
 +behind. Sometimes our march was interrupted by
 +the conflagration having spread from the lands under
 +cultivation, to the virgin forests.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>In these regions, where the land is untilled and
 +the vegetation abundant, the burning of a forest is
 +accompanied with many strange phenomena. Far
 +off, long before the eye can catch the cause, a sound
 +is heard like the rush of a cataract over opposing
 +rocks, the trunks of the trees flame out with a sudden
 +crash, the branches crackle, and the roots beneath
 +the soil all contribute to the extraordinary uproar.
 +The lakes and the marshes in the interior of the
 +forests boil with the heat. The hoarse roar of the
 +coming flame stills the air, causing a dull sound,
 +sometimes increasing and sometimes diminishing in
 +intensity as the conflagration sweeps on or recedes.
 +Occasionally a glimpse can be caught of a clump of
 +trees surrounded by a belt of fire, but as yet untouched
 +by the flames; then a narrow streak of fire curls
 +round the stems, and in another instant the whole
 +<span class='pageno' title='164' id='Page_164'></span>
 +becomes one mass of gold-coloured fire; then up rises
 +the column of smoke driven here and there by the
 +breeze. It takes a thousand fantastic forms, spreads
 +itself out, diminishes in an instant; at one moment
 +it is gone, in another it returns with greater density;
 +then all becomes a thick black cloud, with a fringe of
 +sparks, a terrible sound is heard, the sparks disappear,
 +and the smoke ascends, disappearing at last
 +in a mass of red ashes, which sink down slowly upon
 +the blackened ground.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XIX.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>On</span> the evening of the third day of our march, we
 +entered the ravines of Grande-Riviere; we calculated
 +that the negro army was some twenty leagues off in
 +the mountains.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>We pitched our camp on a low hill, which appeared
 +to have been used for the same purpose before, as the
 +grass had been trodden down and the brushwood cut
 +away. It was not a judicious position in a strategical
 +point of view, but we deemed ourselves perfectly
 +secure from attack. The hill was commanded on all
 +sides by steep mountains clothed with thick forests—the
 +precipitous sides of these hills had given the
 +mountains the name of the <span class='it'>Dompté-Mulâtre</span>. The
 +Grande-Riviere flowed behind our camp; confined
 +within steep banks, it was just about here very deep
 +and rapid. The sides were hidden with thickets,
 +through which nothing could be seen. The waters
 +of the stream itself were frequently concealed by
 +<span class='pageno' title='165' id='Page_165'></span>
 +masses of creeping plants, hanging from the branches
 +of the flowering maples, which had sprung up at intervals
 +in the jungle, crossing and recrossing the
 +stream, and forming a tangled net-work of living
 +verdure. From the heights of the adjacent hills they
 +appeared like meadows still fresh with dew, whilst
 +every now and then a dull splash could be heard as
 +a teal plunged through the flower-decked curtain,
 +and showed in which direction the river lay. By
 +degrees the sun ceased to gild the crested peaks of
 +the distant mountains of Dondon; little by little
 +darkness spread its mantle over the camp, and the
 +silence was only broken by the cry of the night-bird,
 +or by the measured tread of the sentinels.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Suddenly the dreaded war-songs of “<span class='it'>Oua-Nassé</span>
 +and of “The Camp of the Great Meadow” were heard
 +above our heads; the palms, the acomas, and the
 +cedars, which crowned the summits of the rocks,
 +burst into flames, and the lurid light of the conflagration
 +showed us numerous bands of negroes and
 +mulattoes, whose copper-hued skins glowed red in
 +the firelight upon the neighbouring hills. It was the
 +army of Biassou.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The danger was imminent. The officers, aroused
 +from their sleep, endeavoured to rally their men.
 +The drum beat the “Assembly,” whilst the bugles
 +sounded the “Alarm.” Our men fell in hurriedly
 +and in confusion; but the insurgents, instead of
 +taking advantage of our disorder, remained motionless,
 +gazing upon us, and continuing their song of
 +“<span class='it'>Oua-Nassé</span>.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A gigantic negro appeared alone on one of the
 +<span class='pageno' title='166' id='Page_166'></span>
 +peaks that overhung the Grande-Riviere, a flame-coloured
 +plume floated on his head; he held an axe
 +in his right hand and a blood-red banner in his left.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I recognized Pierrot.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Had a carbine been within my reach I should have
 +fired at him, cowardly although the act might have
 +been.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The negro repeated the chorus of “<span class='it'>Oua-Nassé</span>,
 +planted his standard on the highest portion of the
 +rock, hurled his axe into the midst of our ranks, and
 +plunged into the stream. A feeling of regret seized
 +me; I had hoped to have slain him with my own hand.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then the negroes began to hurl huge masses of
 +rocks upon us, whilst showers of bullets and flights
 +of arrows were poured upon our camp. Our soldiers,
 +maddened at being unable to reach their adversaries,
 +fell on all sides, crushed by the rocks, riddled with
 +bullets, and transfixed by arrows.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The army was rapidly falling into disorder.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Suddenly a terrible noise came from the centre of
 +the stream.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The Yellow Dragoons, who had suffered most from
 +the shower of rocks, had conceived the idea of taking
 +refuge under the thick roof of creepers which grew
 +over the river. It was Thaddeus who had at first
 +discovered this——</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Here the narrative was suddenly interrupted.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XX.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>More</span> than a quarter of a hour had elapsed since
 +Thaddeus, his arm in a sling, had glided into the
 +<span class='pageno' title='167' id='Page_167'></span>
 +tent without any of the listeners noticing his arrival,
 +and, taking up his position in a remote corner, he
 +had by occasional gestures expressed the interest
 +that he took in his captain’s narrative; but at last,
 +considering that this direct allusion to himself ought
 +not to be permitted to pass without some acknowledgement
 +on his part, he stammered out—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You are too good, captain.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A general burst of laughter followed this speech,
 +and D’Auverney, turning towards him, exclaimed
 +severely—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What, Thaddeus, you here?—and your arm?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>On being addressed in so unaccustomed a tone, the
 +features of the old soldier grew dark; he quivered,
 +and threw back his head, as though to restrain the
 +tears which seemed to struggle to his eyes.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I never thought,” said he, in a low voice, “that
 +you, captain, could have omitted to say <span class='it'>thou</span> when
 +speaking to your old sergeant.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Pardon me, old friend,” answered the captain,
 +quickly; “I hardly knew what I said. Thou wilt
 +pardon me, wilt thou not?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The tears sprang to the sergeant’s eyes in spite of
 +his efforts to repress them.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It is the third time,” remarked he—“but these
 +are tears of joy.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Peace was made, and a short silence ensued.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“But tell me, Thaddeus, why hast thou quitted the
 +hospital to come here?” asked D’Auverney, gently.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It was—with your permission, captain—to ask if
 +I should put the laced saddle-cloth on the charger
 +for to-morrow.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='168' id='Page_168'></span>
 +Henri laughed. “You would have been wiser, Thaddeus,
 +to have asked the surgeon-major if you should
 +put two more pieces of lint on your arm,” said he.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Or to ask,” continued Paschal, “if you might
 +take a glass of wine to refresh yourself. At any
 +rate, here is some brandy; taste it—it will do you
 +good, my brave sergeant.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Thaddeus advanced, saluted, and, apologizing for
 +taking the glass with his left hand, emptied it to the
 +health of the assembled company.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You had got, captain, to the moment when—yes,
 +I remember, it was I who proposed to take
 +shelter under the creepers, to prevent our men being
 +smashed by the rocks. Our officer, who did not
 +know how to swim, was afraid of being drowned,
 +and, as was natural, was dead against it until he
 +saw—with your permission, gentlemen—a great rock
 +fall on the creepers without being able to get through
 +them. ‘It is better to die like Pharaoh than like
 +St. Stephen,’ said he: ‘for we are not saints, and
 +Pharaoh was a soldier like ourselves.’ The officer
 +was a learned man, you see. And so he agreed to my
 +proposal, on the condition that I should first try the
 +experiment myself. Off I went; I slid down the
 +bank and caught hold of the roof of creepers, when
 +all of a sudden some one took a pull at my legs. I
 +struggled, I shouted for help, and in a minute I
 +received half a dozen sabre cuts. Down came the
 +dragoons to help me, and there was a nice little
 +skirmish under the creepers. The blacks of Morne-Rouge
 +had hidden themselves there, never for a
 +moment thinking that we should fall right on the
 +<span class='pageno' title='169' id='Page_169'></span>
 +top of them. This was not the right time for
 +fishing, I can tell you. We fought, we swore, we
 +shouted. They had nothing particular on, and were
 +able to move about in the water more easily than we
 +were; but, on the other hand, our sabres had less to
 +cut through. We swam with one hand and fought
 +with the other. Those who could not swim, like my
 +captain, hung on to the creepers, whilst the negroes
 +pulled them by the legs. In the midst of the hullabaloo
 +I saw a big negro fighting like Beelzebub
 +against five or six of ours. I swam up to him, and
 +I recognized Pierrot, otherwise called Bug——But I
 +musn’t tell that yet, must I, captain? Since the
 +capture of the fort I owed him a grudge, so I took
 +him hard and fast by the throat; he was going to
 +rid himself of me by a thrust of his dagger, when he
 +recognized me, and gave himself up at once. That
 +was very unfortunate, was it not, captain? for if he
 +had not surrendered, he would not——But you will
 +know that later on, eh? When the blacks saw that
 +he was taken they made a rush at me to get him off;
 +when Pierrot, seeing no doubt that they would all
 +lose their lives, said some gibberish or other, and in
 +the twinkling of an eye they plunged into the water,
 +and were out of sight in a moment. This fight in
 +the water would have been pleasant enough if I had
 +not lost a finger, and wetted ten cartridges, and if
 +the poor man——but it was to be, was it not, captain?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>And the sergeant respectfully placed the back of
 +his hand to his forage cap, and then raised it to
 +heaven with the air of an inspired prophet.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='170' id='Page_170'></span>
 +D’Auverney was violently agitated.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” cried he, “thou art right, my old Thaddeus;
 +that night was a fatal night for me.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He would have fallen into one of his usual reveries
 +had they not urgently pressed him to conclude his
 +story.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>After a while he continued.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXI.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Whilst</span> the scene which Thaddeus has just described
 +was passing behind the camp, I had succeeded with
 +some of my men in climbing the opposite hills, by
 +aid of the brushwood, until we had reached a point
 +called Peacock Peak, from the brilliant tints of the
 +mica which coated the surface of the rock.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>From this position, which was opposite a rock
 +covered with negroes, we opened a withering fire. The
 +insurgents, who were not so well armed as we were,
 +could not reply warmly to our volleys, and in a short
 +time began to grow discouraged. We redoubled our
 +efforts, and our enemies soon evacuated the neighbouring
 +rocks, first hurling the dead bodies of their
 +comrades upon our army, the greater proportion of
 +which was still drawn up on the hill. Then we cut
 +down several trees, and binding the trunks together
 +with fibres of the palm, we improvised a bridge, and
 +by it crossed over to the deserted positions of the
 +enemy, and thus managed to secure a good post of
 +vantage. This operation completely quenched the
 +courage of the rebels. Our fire continued. Shouts
 +<span class='pageno' title='171' id='Page_171'></span>
 +of grief arose from them, in which the name of Bug-Jargal
 +was frequently repeated. Many negroes of the
 +army of Morne-Rouge appeared on the rock upon
 +which the blood-red banner still floated; they prostrated
 +themselves before it, tore it from its resting-place,
 +and then precipitated it and themselves into
 +the depths of the Grande-Riviere. This seemed
 +to signify that their chief was either killed or a
 +prisoner.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Our confidence had now risen to such a pitch that
 +I resolved to drive them from their last position at
 +the point of the bayonet, and at the head of my men
 +I dashed into the midst of the negroes. The soldiers
 +were about to follow me across the temporary bridge
 +that I had caused to be thrown from peak to peak,
 +when one of the rebels with a blow of his axe broke
 +the bridge to atoms, and the ruins fell into the abyss
 +with a terrible noise.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I turned my head—in a moment I was surrounded,
 +and seized by six or seven negroes, who disarmed me
 +in a moment. I struggled like a lion, but they bound
 +me with cords made of bark, heedless of the hail of
 +bullets that my soldiers poured upon them.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>My despair was somewhat soothed by the cries of
 +victory which I heard from our men, and I soon saw
 +the negroes and mulattoes ascending the steep sides
 +of the rocks with all the precipitation of fear, uttering
 +cries of terror.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>My captors followed their example. The strongest
 +amongst them placed me on their shoulders, and
 +carried me in the direction of the forest, leaping from
 +rock to rock with the agility of wild goats. The flames
 +<span class='pageno' title='172' id='Page_172'></span>
 +soon ceased to light the scene, and it was by the pale
 +rays of the moon that we pursued our course.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>After</span> passing through jungle, and crossing many a
 +torrent, we arrived in a valley situated in the higher
 +part of the hills, of a singular wild and savage appearance.
 +The spot was absolutely unknown to me. The
 +valley was situated in the heart of the hills, in what
 +is called the <span class='it'>double mountains</span>. It was a large green
 +plain, imprisoned by walls of bare rock, and dotted
 +with clumps of pines and palm-trees. The cold,
 +which at this height is very severe, was increased by
 +the morning air, the day having just commenced to
 +break, but the valley was still plunged in darkness,
 +and was only lighted by flashes from the negroes’
 +fires; evidently this spot was their headquarters.
 +The shattered remains of their army had begun to
 +reassemble, and every now and then bands of negroes
 +and mulattoes arrived, uttering groans of distress and
 +cries of rage. New fires were speedily lighted, and
 +the camp began to increase in size. The negro whose
 +prisoner I was had placed me at the foot of an oak,
 +whence I surveyed this strange spectacle with entire
 +carelessness. The black had bound me with his belt
 +to the trunk of the tree, against which I was leaning,
 +and carefully tightening the knots in the cords which
 +impeded my movements, he placed on my head his
 +own red woollen cap, as if to indicate that I was his
 +property, and after making sure that I could not
 +escape or be carried off by others, was preparing to
 +<span class='pageno' title='173' id='Page_173'></span>
 +leave me, when I determined to address him, and
 +speaking in the Creole dialect I asked him if he
 +belonged to the band of Dondon, or of Morne-Rouge.
 +He stopped at once, and in a tone of pride replied
 +“<span class='it'>Morne-Rouge</span>.” Then an idea entered my head. I
 +had often heard of the generosity of the chief Bug-Jargal,
 +and though I had made up my mind that death
 +would soon end all my troubles, yet the thought of
 +the tortures that would inevitably precede it should I
 +fall into the hands of Biassou, filled me with horror.
 +All I wanted was to be put to death without torment.
 +It was perhaps a weakness, but I believe that the
 +mind of man ever revolts at such a death. I thought
 +then, that if I could be taken from Biassou, Bug-Jargal
 +might give me what I desired—a soldier’s death.
 +I therefore asked the negro of Morne-Rouge to lead
 +me to Bug-Jargal. He started. “Bug-Jargal,” he
 +repeated, striking on his forehead in anguish; then, as
 +if rage had suddenly overtaken him, he shook his fist,
 +and shouting “Biassou, Biassou,” he left me hastily.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The mingled rage and grief of the negro recalled
 +to my mind the events of the day, and the certainty
 +we had acquired of either the death or capture of the
 +chief of the band of Morne-Rouge. I felt that all
 +hope was over, and resigned myself to the threatened
 +vengeance of Biassou.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXIII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>A group</span> of negresses came near the tree to which
 +I was fastened, and lit a fire. By the numerous
 +bracelets of blue, red, and violet glass which
 +<span class='pageno' title='174' id='Page_174'></span>
 +ornamented their arms and ankles, by the rings which
 +weighed down their ears and adorned their toes and
 +fingers, by the amulets on their bosoms and the
 +collar of charms suspended round their necks, and by
 +the aprons of variegated feathers which were their
 +sole coverings, I at once recognized them as <span class='it'>griotes</span>.
 +You are perhaps ignorant that amongst the African
 +blacks there exists a certain class with a rude talent
 +for poetry and improvisation, which approaches
 +closely to madness. These unhappy creatures, wandering
 +from one African kingdom to another, are in
 +these barbarian countries looked upon in the same
 +light as the <span class='it'>minstrels</span> of England, the <span class='it'>minnesingers</span> of
 +Germany, and the <span class='it'>troubadours</span> of France. They are
 +called <span class='it'>griots</span>, and their wives <span class='it'>griotes</span>. The <span class='it'>griotes</span>
 +accompany the barbaric songs of their husbands with
 +lascivious dances, and form a grotesque parody on the
 +<span class='it'>nautch girls</span> of India and the <span class='it'>almes</span> of Egypt. It was
 +a group of these women who came and sat down
 +near me, with their legs crossed under them according
 +to their custom, and their hideous faces lighted up by
 +the red light of a fire of withered branches. When
 +they had formed a complete circle they all took hands,
 +and the eldest, who had a heron’s plume stuck in her
 +hair, began to exclaim “<span class='it'>Ouanga</span>.” I at once understood
 +that they were going through one of their performances
 +of pretended witchcraft. Then the leader of
 +the band, after a moment’s silence, plucked a lock of
 +hair from her head and threw it into the fire, crying
 +out these words, “Malé o guiab,” which in the
 +jargon of the Creoles means, “I shall go to the
 +devil.” All the <span class='it'>griotes</span> imitated their leader, and
 +<span class='pageno' title='175' id='Page_175'></span>
 +throwing locks of their hair in the fire, repeated
 +gravely, “Malé o guiab.” This strange invocation,
 +and the extraordinary grimaces that accompanied it,
 +caused me to burst into one of those hysterical fits
 +of laughter which so often seize on one even at the
 +most serious moments. It was in vain that I endeavoured
 +to restrain it—it would have vent; and this
 +laugh which escaped from so sad a heart brought
 +about a gloomy and terrifying scene.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Disturbed in their incantations, the negresses
 +sprang to their feet. Until then they had not noticed
 +me, but now they rushed close up to me, screaming
 +“Blanco, Blanco.” I have never seen so hideous a
 +collection of faces, contorted as they were with
 +passion, their white teeth gleaming, and their eyes
 +almost starting from their heads. They were, I
 +believe, about to tear me to pieces, when the old
 +woman with the beaver’s plume on her head stopped
 +them with a sign of her hand, and exclaimed seven
 +times, “Zoté cordé!” (“Do you agree?”) The wretched
 +creatures stopped at once, and, to my surprise, tore
 +off their feather aprons, which they flung upon the
 +ground, and commenced the lascivious dance which
 +the negroes call “<span class='it'>La chica</span>.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This dance, which should only consist of attitudes
 +and movements expressive of gaiety and pleasure,
 +assumed a very different complexion when performed
 +by these naked sorceresses. In turn, each of them
 +would place her face close to mine, and, with a
 +frightful expression of countenance, would detail the
 +horrible punishment that awaited the white man
 +who had profaned the mysteries of their <span class='it'>Ouanga</span>.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='176' id='Page_176'></span>
 +I recollected that savage nations had a custom of
 +dancing round the victims that they were about to
 +sacrifice, and I patiently awaited the conclusion of
 +the performance which I knew would be sealed with
 +my blood; and yet I could not repress a shudder as
 +I perceived each <span class='it'>griote</span>, in strict unison with the
 +time, thrust into the fire the point of a sabre, the
 +blade of an axe, a long sail-maker’s needle, a pair of
 +pincers, and the teeth of a saw.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The dance was approaching its conclusion, and the
 +instruments of torture were glowing red with heat.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At a signal from the old woman, each negress in
 +turn withdrew an implement from the fire, whilst
 +those who had none furnished themselves with a
 +blazing stick. Then I understood clearly what my
 +punishment was to be, and that in each of the dancers
 +I should find an executioner. Again the word of
 +command was given, and the last figure of the dance
 +was commenced. I closed my eyes that I might not
 +see the frantic evolutions of these female demons,
 +who, in measured cadence, clashed the red-hot
 +weapons over their heads. A dull, clinking sound
 +followed, whilst the sparks flew out in myriads. I
 +waited, nerving myself for the moment when I should
 +feel my flesh quiver in agony, my bones calcine, and
 +my muscles writhe under the burning tortures of
 +the nippers and the saws. It was an awful moment.
 +Fortunately it did not last long.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>In the distance I heard the voice of the negro
 +whose prisoner I was, shouting, “<span class='it'>Que haceis, mujeres,
 +ne demonio, que haceis alli, devais mi prisonero?</span>
 +I opened my eyes again; it was already broad daylight.
 +<span class='pageno' title='177' id='Page_177'></span>
 +The negro hurried towards me, gesticulating
 +angrily. The <span class='it'>griotes</span> paused, but they seemed less
 +influenced by the threats of my captor than by the
 +presence of a strange-looking person by whom the
 +negro was accompanied.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>It was a very stout and very short man—a species
 +of dwarf—whose face was entirely concealed by a
 +white veil, pierced with three holes for the eyes and
 +mouth. The veil hung down to his shoulders, and
 +displayed a hairy, copper-hued breast, upon which
 +was hung by a golden chain the mutilated sun of a
 +monstrance.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The cross-hilt of a heavy dagger peeped from a
 +scarlet belt, which also supported a kind of petticoat
 +striped with green, yellow, and black, the
 +hem of which hung down to his large and ill-shaped
 +feet.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>His arms, like his breast, were bare; he carried a
 +white staff, and a rosary of amber beads was suspended
 +from his belt, in close proximity to the handle
 +of his dagger. His head was surmounted by a
 +pointed cap adorned with bells, and when he came
 +close I was not surprised in recognizing in it the
 +<span class='it'>gorra</span> of Habibrah; and amongst the hieroglyphics
 +with which it was covered, I could see many spots
 +of gore: without doubt, it was the blood of the
 +faithful fool. These bloodstains gave me fresh proofs
 +of his death, and awakened in me once again a fresh
 +feeling of regret for his loss.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Directly the <span class='it'>griotes</span> recognized the wearer of
 +Habibrah’s cap, they cried out all at once, “The Obi,”
 +and prostrated themselves before him. I guessed at
 +<span class='pageno' title='178' id='Page_178'></span>
 +once that this was a sorcerer attached to Biassou’s
 +force.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Basta, basta” (“enough”), said he, in a grave and
 +solemn voice, as he came close up to them. “Devais
 +el prisonero de Biassou” (“Let the prisoner be taken
 +to Biassou”).</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>All the negresses leapt to their feet and cast their
 +implements of torture on one side, put on their
 +aprons, and, at a gesture of the Obi, fled like a cloud
 +of grasshoppers.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At this instant the glance of the Obi fell upon me.
 +He started back a pace, and half waved his white
 +staff in the direction of the retiring <span class='it'>griotes</span>, as if he
 +wished to recall them; then, muttering between his
 +teeth the word “<span class='it'>Maldicho</span>” (“accursed”), he whispered
 +a few words in the ear of the negro, and, crossing
 +his arms, retired slowly, apparently buried in deep
 +thought.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXIV.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>My</span> captor informed me that Biassou had asked to
 +see me, and that in an hour I should be brought
 +before him. This, I calculated, gave me another
 +hour in which to live. Until that time had elapsed,
 +I allowed my glances to wander over the rebel camp,
 +the singular appearance of which the daylight permitted
 +me to observe. Had I been in any other
 +position, I should have laughed heartily at the ostentatious
 +vanity of the negroes, who were nearly all
 +decked out in fragments of clerical and military
 +dress, the spoils of their victims. The greater portion
 +<span class='pageno' title='179' id='Page_179'></span>
 +of these ornaments were not new, consisting of
 +torn and blood-stained rags. A gorget could often be
 +seen shining over a stole, whilst an epaulet looked
 +strange when contrasted with a chasuble.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>To make amends for former years of toil, the
 +negroes remained in a state of utter inaction: some
 +of them slept exposed to the rays of the sun, their
 +heads close to a burning fire; others, with eyes that
 +were sometimes full of listlessness, and at others
 +blazed with fury, sat chanting a monotonous air at
 +the doors of their <span class='it'>ajoupas</span>—a species of hut with
 +conical roofs somewhat resembling our artillery tents,
 +but thatched with palm or banana leaves.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Their black or copper-coloured wives, aided by the
 +negro-children, prepared the food for the fighting-men.
 +I could see them stirring up with long forks,
 +ignames, bananas, yams, peas, cocus and maize, and
 +other vegetables indigenous to the country, which
 +boiled with joints of pork, turtle, and dog in the
 +great boilers stolen from the dwellings of the planters.
 +In the distance, on the outskirts of the camp, the
 +<span class='it'>griots</span> and <span class='it'>griotes</span> formed large circles round the
 +fires, and the wind every now and then brought to
 +my ears strange fragments of their barbaric songs,
 +mingled with notes from their tambourines and
 +guitars. A few videttes posted on the high ground
 +watched over the headquarters of the General
 +Biassou: the only defence of which in case of attack
 +was a circle of waggons filled with plunder and
 +ammunition. These black sentries posted on the
 +summits of the granite pyramids, with which the
 +valley bristled, turned about like the weathercocks
 +<span class='pageno' title='180' id='Page_180'></span>
 +in Gothic spires, and with all the strength of their
 +lungs shouted one to the other the cry of “<span class='it'>Nada,
 +nada</span>” (“Nothing, nothing”), which showed that the
 +camp was in full security. Every now and then
 +groups of negroes, inspired by curiosity, collected
 +round me, but all looked upon me with a threatening
 +expression of countenance.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXV.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>At</span> length an escort of negro soldiers very fairly
 +equipped arrived. The negro whose property I appeared
 +to be, unfastened me from the oak to which
 +I was bound, and handed me over to the escort,
 +receiving in exchange a bag full of piastres. As he lay
 +upon the grass counting them with every appearance
 +of delight, I was led away by the soldiers. My escort
 +wore a uniform of coarse cloth, of a reddish-brown
 +colour, with yellow facings; their head-dress was a
 +Spanish cap called a <span class='it'>montera</span>, ornamented with a
 +large red cockade. Instead of a cartouche case, they
 +had a species of game-bag slung at their sides. Their
 +arms were a heavy musket, a sabre, and a dagger.
 +I afterwards learned that these men formed the
 +body-guard of Biassou.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>After a circuitous route through the rows of
 +<span class='it'>ajoupas</span>, which were scattered all over the place, I
 +came to a cave which nature had hollowed out in
 +one of those masses of rock with which the meadow
 +was full. A large curtain of some material from the
 +looms of Thibet, which the negroes called <span class='it'>Katchmir</span>,
 +<span class='pageno' title='181' id='Page_181'></span>
 +and which is remarkable less for the brilliancy of its
 +colouring than for the softness of its material, concealed
 +the interior of the cavern from the vulgar
 +gaze. The entrance was guarded by a double line
 +of negroes, dressed like those who had escorted me
 +thither.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>After the countersign had been exchanged with the
 +sentries who marched backwards and forwards before
 +the cave, the commander of the escort raised the
 +curtain sufficiently for me to enter, and then let it
 +drop behind me. A copper lamp with six lights
 +hung by a chain from the roof of the grotto, casting
 +a flickering light upon the damp walls. Between
 +the ranks of mulatto soldiers I perceived a coloured
 +man sitting upon a large block of mahogany, which
 +was partially covered with a carpet made of parrots’
 +feathers. His dress was of the most absurd kind.
 +A splendid silk girdle, from which hung a cross of
 +Saint Louis, held up a pair of common blue trousers,
 +whilst a waistcoat of white linen which did not meet
 +the waistband of the trousers completed the strange
 +costume. He wore high boots, and a round hat with
 +a red cockade, and epaulets, one of gold with silver
 +stars like those worn by brigadiers, whilst the other
 +was of red worsted with two copper stars, which
 +seemed to have been taken from a pair of spurs,
 +fixed upon it, evidently to render it more worthy of
 +its resplendent neighbour. A sabre and a pair of
 +richly chased pistols lay by his side.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Behind the throne were two white children dressed
 +in the costume of slaves, bearing large fans of peacock
 +feathers.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='182' id='Page_182'></span>
 +Two squares of crimson velvet, which seemed to
 +have been stolen from some church, were placed on
 +either side of the mahogany block. One of these was
 +occupied by the Obi who had rescued me from the
 +frenzy of the <span class='it'>griotes</span>. He was seated with his legs crossed
 +under him, holding in his hand his white wand; and
 +not moving a muscle, he looked like a porcelain idol
 +in a Chinese pagoda, but through the holes in his
 +veil I could see his flashing eyes fixed steadfastly
 +upon mine.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Upon each side of the general were trophies of
 +flags, banners, and pennons of all kinds; among them
 +I noticed the white flag with the lilies, the tricolour,
 +and the banner of Spain. The others were covered
 +with fancy devices. I also perceived a large standard
 +entirely black.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At the end of the grotto, I saw a portrait of the
 +mulatto Ogé who, together with his lieutenant Jean
 +Charanne, had been broken on the wheel the year
 +previous, for the crime of rebellion. Twenty of his
 +accomplices, blacks and mulattoes, suffered with him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>In this painting Ogé, the son of a butcher at Cap,
 +was represented in the uniform of a lieutenant-colonel,
 +and decorated with the star of St. Louis,
 +and the Order of Merit of the Lion, which last he
 +had purchased from the Prince of Limburg.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The negro general into whose presence I had been
 +introduced was short and of vulgar aspect, whilst
 +his face showed a strange mixture of cunning and
 +cruelty. After looking at me for some time in silence,
 +with a bitter omen on his face, he said—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I am Biassou.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='183' id='Page_183'></span>
 +I expected this, but I could not hear it from his
 +mouth, distorted as it was by a cruel smile, without
 +an inward trembling; but my face remained unchanged,
 +and I made no reply.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Well,” continued he, in his bad French, “have
 +they already impaled you, that you are unable to
 +bend before Biassou, generalissimo of this conquered
 +land, and brigadier of His Most Catholic Majesty?”
 +(The rebel chiefs sometimes affected to be acting for
 +the King of France, sometimes for the Republic, and
 +at others for the King of Spain.)</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I crossed my arms upon my chest, and looked him
 +firmly in the face.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He again sneered. “Ho, ho,” said he, “<span class='it'>me pareces
 +hombre de buen corazon</span> (“You seem a courageous
 +man”); well, listen to my questions. Were you born
 +in the island?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“No, I am a Frenchman.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>My calmness irritated him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“All the better; I see by your uniform that you
 +are an officer. How old are you?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Twenty.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“When were you twenty?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>To this question, which aroused in me all the
 +recollection of my misery, I could not at first find
 +words to reply. He repeated it imperiously.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The day upon which Leogri was hung,” answered
 +I.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>An expression of rage passed over his face as he
 +answered,</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It is twenty-three days since Leogri was executed.
 +Frenchman, when you meet him this
 +<span class='pageno' title='184' id='Page_184'></span>
 +evening you may tell him from me that you lived
 +twenty-four days longer than he did. I will spare
 +you for to-day, I wish you to tell him of the liberty
 +that his brethren have gained, and what you have
 +seen at the headquarters of General Jean Biassou.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then he ordered me to sit down in one corner
 +between two of his guards, and with a motion of his
 +hand to some of his men, who wore the uniform of
 +aide-de-camps, he said,</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Let the assembly be sounded, that we may inspect
 +the whole of our troops; and you, your Reverence,
 +he added, turning to the Obi, “put on your
 +priestly vestments, and perform for our army the holy
 +sacrament of the Mass.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The Obi rose, bowed profoundly, and whispered a
 +word or two in the general’s ear.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What,” cried the latter, “no altar! but never
 +mind, the good Giu has no need of a magnificent
 +temple for His worship. Gideon and Joshua adored
 +Him before masses of rock, let us do as they did; all
 +that is required is that the hearts should be true.
 +No altar, you say—why not make one of that great
 +chest of sugar which we took yesterday from Dubussion’s
 +house?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This suggestion of Biassou was promptly carried
 +into execution. In an instant the interior of the
 +cave was arranged for a burlesque of the divine
 +ceremony. A pyx and a monstrance stolen from the
 +parish church of Acul were promptly produced (the
 +very church in which my nuptials with Marie had
 +been celebrated, and where we had received heaven’s
 +blessing which had so soon changed to a curse).</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='185' id='Page_185'></span>
 +The stolen chest of sugar was speedily made into
 +an altar and covered with a white cloth, through
 +which, however, the words Dubussion and Company
 +for Nantes could be plainly perceived.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>When the sacred vessels had been placed on the
 +altar, the Obi perceived that the crucifix was wanting.
 +He drew his dagger which had a cross handle, and
 +stuck it into the wood of the case in front of the pyx.
 +Then without removing his cap or veil, he threw the
 +cope which had been stolen from the priest of Acul
 +over his shoulders and bare chest, opened the missal
 +with its silver clasps from which the prayers had
 +been read on my ill-fated marriage day; and turning
 +towards Biassou, whose seat was a few paces from
 +the altar, announced to him that all was ready.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>On a sign from the general the Katchmir curtains
 +were drawn aside, and the insurgent army was seen
 +drawn up in close column before the entrance to
 +the grotto.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Biassou removed his hat and knelt before the
 +altar.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“On your knees,” he cried, in a loud voice.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“On your knees!” repeated the commander of
 +the battalions.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The drums were beaten, and all the insurgents fell
 +upon their knees.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I alone refused to move, disgusted at this vile profanation
 +about to be enacted under my very eyes;
 +but the two powerful mulattoes who guarded me
 +pulled my seat from under me, and pressed heavily
 +upon my shoulders so that I fell on my knees, compelled
 +to pay a semblance of respect to this parody
 +<span class='pageno' title='186' id='Page_186'></span>
 +of a religious ceremony. The Obi performed his
 +duties with affected solemnity, whilst the two white
 +pages of Biassou officiated as deacon and sub-deacon.
 +The insurgents, prostrated before the altar, assisted
 +at the ceremony with the greatest enthusiasm, the
 +general setting the example.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At the moment of the exaltation of the host, the
 +Obi, raising in his hands the consecrated vessel, exclaimed
 +in his Creole jargon,</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Zoté coné bon Giu; ce li mo fé zoté voer. Blan
 +touyé li, touyé blan yo toute!” (“You see your
 +good God; I am showing Him to you. The white
 +men killed Him; kill all the whites!”)</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At these words, pronounced in a loud voice, the
 +tones of which had something in them familiar to
 +my ear, all the rebels uttered a loud shout, and
 +clashed their weapons together. Had it not been for
 +Biassou’s influence that hour would have been my
 +last. To such atrocities may men be driven who
 +use the dagger for a cross, and upon whose mind the
 +most trivial event makes a deep and profound impression.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXVI.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>At</span> the termination of the ceremony the Obi bowed
 +respectfully to Biassou; then the general rose and,
 +addressing me in French, said—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“We are accused of having no religion. You see
 +it is a falsehood, and that we are good Catholics.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I do not know whether he spoke ironically or in
 +good faith. A few moments he called for a glass
 +<span class='pageno' title='187' id='Page_187'></span>
 +bowl filled with grains of black maize; on the top
 +he threw some white maize, then he raised it high
 +in his hand so that all the army might see it.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Brothers,” cried he, “you are the black maize;
 +your enemies are the white maize.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>With these words he shook the bowl, and in an
 +instant the white grains had disappeared beneath the
 +black; and, as though inspired, he cried out, “Where
 +are the white now?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The mountains re-echoed with the shouts with
 +which the illustration of the general was received;
 +and Biassou continued his harangue, mixing up
 +French, Creole dialect, and Spanish alternately.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The season for temporising has passed; for a long
 +time we have been as patient as the sheep to whose
 +wool the whites compare our hair; let us now be
 +as implacable as the panthers or the tigers of the
 +countries from which they have torn us. Force alone
 +can obtain for us our rights, and everything can be
 +obtained by those who use their force without pity.
 +Saint Loup (Wolf) has two days in the year consecrated
 +to him in the Gregorian calendar whilst the
 +Paschal Lamb has but one. Am not I correct, your
 +reverence?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The Obi bowed in sign of corroboration.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“They have come,” continued Biassou, “these
 +enemies of ours have come as enemies of the regeneration
 +of humanity; these whites, these planters,
 +these men of business, veritable devils vomited from
 +the mouth of hell. They came in the insolence of
 +their pride, in their fine dresses, their uniforms, their
 +feathers, their magnificent arms; they despised us
 +<span class='pageno' title='188' id='Page_188'></span>
 +because we were black and naked in their overbearing
 +haughtiness; they thought that they could drive us
 +before them as easily as these peacock’s feathers
 +disperse the swarms of sandflies and mosquitoes.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>As he uttered these concluding words, he snatched
 +from the hands of his white slaves one of the large
 +fans, and waved it over his head with a thousand
 +eccentric gesticulations. Then he continued—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“But, my brethren, we burst upon them like flies
 +upon a carcase; they have fallen in their fine uniforms
 +beneath the strokes of our naked arms, which they
 +believed to be without power, ignorant that good
 +wood is the stronger when the bark is stripped off;
 +and now these accursed tyrants tremble, and are
 +filled with fear.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A triumphant yell rose in answer to the general’s
 +speech, and all the army repeated, “They are filled
 +with fear.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Blacks, Creoles, and Congos,” added Biassou,
 +“vengeance and liberty! Mulattoes, do not be led
 +away by the temptations of the white men. Your
 +fathers serve in their ranks, but your mothers are
 +with us; besides, ‘O bermanos de mi alma’ (‘O brethren
 +of my soul’), have they ever acted as fathers to you?
 +Have they not rather been cruel masters, and
 +treated you as slaves, because you had the blood of
 +your mothers in your veins? Whilst a miserable
 +cotton garment covered your bodies scorched by the
 +sun, your cruel fathers went about in straw hats and
 +nankeen clothes on work days, and in cloth and
 +velvet on holidays and feasts. Curses be on their
 +unnatural hearts. But as the holy commandments
 +<span class='pageno' title='189' id='Page_189'></span>
 +forbid you to strike your father, abstain from doing
 +so; but in the day of battle what hinders you from
 +turning to your comrade and saying, ‘Touyé papa
 +moé, ma touyé quena toué?’ (‘Kill my father, and I
 +will kill yours?’) Vengeance then, my brethren, and
 +liberty for all men. This cry has found an echo in
 +every part of the island; it has roused Tobago and
 +Cuba. It was Bouckmann, a negro from Jamaica,
 +the leader of the twenty-five fugitive slaves of the
 +Blue Mountain, who raised the standard of revolt
 +amongst us. A glorious victory was the first proof
 +that he gave of his brotherhood with the negroes of
 +Saint Domingo. Let us follow his noble example,
 +with an axe in one hand and a torch in the other.
 +No mercy for the whites, no mercy for the planters;
 +let us massacre their families, and destroy their
 +plantations! Do not allow a tree to remain standing
 +on their estates; let us upturn the very earth itself
 +that it may swallow up our white oppressors!
 +Courage then, friends and brethren; we shall fight
 +them and sweep them from the face of the earth.
 +We will conquer or die. As victors, we shall enjoy
 +all the pleasures of life; and if we fall, the saints are
 +ready to receive us in heaven, where each warrior
 +will receive a double ration of brandy, and a silver
 +piastre each day!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This warlike discourse, which to you appears perfectly
 +ridiculous, had a tremendous effect on the insurgents.
 +It is true that Biassou’s wild gesticulations,
 +the manner in which his voice rose and fell, and the
 +strange sneer which every now and then appeared on
 +his lips, imparted to his speech a strange amount of
 +<span class='pageno' title='190' id='Page_190'></span>
 +power and fascination. The skill with which he
 +alluded to those points which would have the
 +greatest weight with the negroes, added a degree of
 +force which told well with his audience.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I will not attempt to describe to you the outburst
 +of determined enthusiasm which the harangue of
 +Biassou roused amongst the rebels.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>There arose at once a discordant chorus of howls,
 +yells, and shouts. Some beat their naked breasts,
 +others dashed their clubs and sabres together.
 +Many threw themselves on their knees, and remained
 +in that position as though in rapt ecstasy.
 +The negresses tore their breasts and arms with their
 +fish-bone combs. The sounds of drums, tom-toms,
 +guitars, and tambourines were mingled with the discharge
 +of firearms. It was a veritable witches’
 +Sabbath.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Biassou raised his hand, and, as if by enchantment,
 +the tumult was stilled, and each negro returned
 +to his place in the ranks in silence. The
 +discipline which Biassou had imposed upon his
 +equals by the exercise of his power of will struck
 +me, I may say, with admiration. All the soldiers
 +of the force seemed to exist only to obey the wishes
 +of their chief, as the notes of the harpsichord under
 +the fingers of the musician.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXVII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> spectacle of another example of the powers of
 +fascination and deception now attracted my attention,
 +<span class='pageno' title='191' id='Page_191'></span>
 +this was the healing of the wounded. The Obi,
 +who in the army performed the double functions of
 +healer of souls and bodies, began his inspection of
 +his patients.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He had taken off his sacerdotal robes, and was
 +seated before a large box in which he kept his drugs
 +and instruments. He used the latter very rarely,
 +but occasionally drew blood skilfully enough with a
 +lancet made of fish-bone, but he appeared to me
 +to use the knife which in his hands replaced the
 +scalpel rather clumsily. In most cases he contented
 +himself with prescribing orange flower water, or sarsaparilla,
 +and a mouthful of old rum. His favourite
 +remedy, however, and one which he said was an
 +infallible panacea for all ills, was composed of three
 +glasses of red wine in which was some grated nutmeg
 +and the yolk of an egg boiled hard. He employed
 +this specific for almost every malady. You
 +will understand that his knowledge of medicine was
 +as great a farce as his pretended religion, and it is
 +probable that the small number of cures that he
 +effected would not have secured the confidence of
 +the negroes had he not had recourse to all sorts of
 +mummeries and incantations, and acted as much
 +upon their imaginations as upon their bodies. Thus,
 +he never examined their wounds without performing
 +some mysterious signs, whilst at other times he skilfully
 +mingled together religion and negro superstition,
 +and would put into their wounds a little <span class='it'>fetish</span> stone
 +wrapped in a morsel of lint, and the patient would
 +credit the stone with the healing effects of the lint.
 +If any one came to announce to him the death of a
 +<span class='pageno' title='192' id='Page_192'></span>
 +patient he would answer solemnly, “I foresaw it;
 +he was a traitor; in the burning of such and such a
 +house he spared a white man’s life; his death was
 +a judgment.” And the wondering crowd of rebels
 +applauded him as he thus increased their deadly
 +hatred for their adversaries. This impostor, amongst
 +other methods, employed one which amused me by
 +its singularity. One of the negro chiefs had been
 +badly wounded in the last action. The Obi examined
 +the wound attentively, dressed it as well as he was
 +able, then, mounting the altar, exclaimed, “All this
 +is nothing.” He then tore two or three leaves from
 +the missal, burnt them to ashes, and mingling them
 +with some wine in the sacramental cup, cried to the
 +wounded man, “Drink; this is the true remedy.”
 +The patient, stupidly fixing his eyes on the impostor,
 +drank, whilst the Obi with raised hands seemed to
 +call down blessings on his head, and it may be the
 +conviction that he was healed brought about his cure.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Another</span> scene in which the Obi also played the
 +principal part succeeded to this. The physician had
 +taken the place of the priest, and the sorcerer now
 +replaced the physician.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Listen, men!” cried the Obi, leaping with incredible
 +agility upon the improvised altar, and sinking
 +down with his legs crossed under his striped petticoat.
 +“Listen; who will dive into the book of fate?
 +I can foretell the future. ‘<span class='it'>He estudiado la cienca de los
 +<span class='pageno' title='193' id='Page_193'></span>
 +Gitanos</span>’ (‘I have studied the sciences of the gipsies’).”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A crowd of mulattoes and negroes hurriedly
 +crowded up to him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“One by one,” said the Obi, in that voice which
 +called to my mind some remembrances that I could
 +not quite collect. “If you come all together, altogether
 +you will enter the tomb.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>They stopped. Just then a coloured man dressed
 +in a white jacket and trousers, with a bandana handkerchief
 +tied round his head, entered the cave.
 +Consternation was depicted on his countenance.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Well, Rigaud,” said the general, “what is it?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Rigaud, sometimes called General Rigaud, was
 +the head of the mulatto insurgents at Lagu. A man
 +who concealed much cunning under an appearance
 +of candour, and cruelty beneath the mask of
 +humanity. I looked upon him with much attention.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“General,” whispered Rigaud, but as I was close
 +to them I could catch every word, “on the outskirts
 +of the camp there is a messenger from Jean François
 +who has brought the news that Bouckmann has been
 +killed in a battle with the whites under M. de
 +Touzard, and that his head has been set upon the
 +gates of the town as a trophy.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Is that all?” asked Biassou, his eyes sparkling
 +with delight at learning the diminution of the number
 +of chiefs and the consequent increase of his own
 +importance.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The emissary of Jean François has in addition
 +a message for you.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“That is all right,” replied the general; “but get
 +rid of this air of alarm, my good Rigaud.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='194' id='Page_194'></span>
 +“But,” said Rigaud, “do you not fear the effect
 +that the death of Bouckmann will have on the
 +army?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You wish to appear more simple than you are,
 +but you shall see what Biassou will do. Keep the
 +messenger back for a quarter of an hour and all will
 +go well.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then he approached the Obi, who during this conversation
 +had been exercising his functions as
 +fortune-teller, questioning the wondering negroes,
 +examining the lines on their hands and foreheads,
 +and distributing more or less good luck according
 +to the size and colour of the piece of money thrown
 +by each negro into a silver-gilt basin which stood on
 +one side. Biassou whispered a few words in his ear,
 +and without making any reply the Obi continued his
 +prophetic observations.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“He,” cried the Obi, “who has in the middle
 +of his forehead a little square or triangular figure
 +will make a large fortune without work or toil. The
 +figure of three interlaced S’s on the forehead is a
 +fatal sign; he who has it will certainly be drowned
 +if he does not carefully avoid water. Four lines
 +from the top of the nose, and turning round two
 +by two towards the eyes, announces that you will
 +be taken prisoner, and for a long time languish in
 +a foreign prison.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Here the Obi paused.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Friends,” continued he, “I have observed this
 +sign in the forehead of Bug-Jargal, the brave chief of
 +Morne-Rouge.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>These words, which convinced me that Bug-Jargal
 +<span class='pageno' title='195' id='Page_195'></span>
 +had been made prisoner, were followed by a cry of
 +grief from a band of negroes who wore short scarlet
 +breeches. They belonged to the band of Morne-Rouge.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then the Obi began again—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“If you have on the right side of the forehead in
 +the line of the moon a mark resembling a fork, do
 +not remain idle, and avoid dissipation of all kinds.
 +A small mark like the Arabic cypher 3 in the line of
 +the sun betokens blows with a stick.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>An old negro here interrupted the magician, and
 +dragging himself to his feet begged him to dress his
 +wound. He had been wounded in the face, and one
 +of his eyes almost torn from the socket hung upon
 +his cheek. The Obi had forgotten him when going
 +through his patients. Directly, however, he saw him
 +he cried out—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Round marks on the right side of the forehead
 +in the line of the moon foretell misfortunes to the
 +sight. My man, let me see your hand.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Alas, excellent sir,” answered the other, “it is
 +my eye that I want you to look at.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Old man,” replied the Obi, crossly, “it is not
 +necessary to see your eye, give me your hand, I say.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The miserable wretch obeyed, moaning, “My eye,
 +my eye.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Good,” cried the Obi; “if you see on the line of
 +life a spot surrounded by a circle you will lose an
 +eye. There is the mark. You will become blind of
 +an eye.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I am so already,” answered the negro, piteously.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>But the Obi had merged the physician in the sorcerer,
 +<span class='pageno' title='196' id='Page_196'></span>
 +and thrusting him roughly on one side continued—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Listen, my men. If the seven lines on the
 +forehead are slight, twisted, and lightly marked, they
 +announce a short life. He who has between his
 +eyebrows on the line of the moon the figure of two
 +crossed arrows will be killed in battle. If the line
 +of life which intersects the hand has a cross at its
 +junction it foretells death on the scaffold, and here
 +I must tell you, my brethren,” said the Obi, interrupting
 +himself, “that one of the bravest defenders of
 +our liberties, Bouckmann, has all these fatal marks.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At these words all the negroes held their breath,
 +and gazed on the impostor with glances of stupid
 +admiration.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Only,” continued the Obi, “I cannot reconcile
 +the two opposing signs, death on the battle-field and
 +also on the scaffold, and yet my science is infallible.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He stopped and cast a meaning glance at Biassou,
 +who whispered something to an officer, who at once
 +quitted the cavern.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“A gaping mouth,” continued the Obi, turning on
 +his audience a malicious glance, “a slouching
 +carriage, and arms hanging down by the side, announces
 +natural stupidity, emptiness, and want of
 +reasoning powers.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Biassou gave a sneer of delight; at that moment
 +the aide-de-camp returned, bringing with him a
 +negro covered with mud and dust, whose feet,
 +wounded by the roots and flints, showed that he had
 +just come off a long journey.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This was the messenger whose arrival Rigaud had
 +<span class='pageno' title='197' id='Page_197'></span>
 +announced. He held in one hand a letter, and in the
 +other a document sealed with the design of a flaming
 +heart. Round it was a monogram, composed of the
 +letters M and N interlaced, no doubt intended as an
 +emblem of the union of the free mulattos and the
 +negro slaves. Underneath I could read this motto,
 +“Prejudice conquered, the rod of iron broken, long
 +live the king!” This document was a safe conduct
 +given by Jean François.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The messenger handed his letter to Biassou, who
 +hastily tore it open and perused the contents, then
 +with an appearance of deep grief he exclaimed, “My
 +brothers!” All bowed respectfully.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“My brothers, this is a despatch to Jean Biassou,
 +generalissimo of the conquered states, Brigadier-General
 +of His Catholic Majesty, from Jean
 +François, Grand Admiral of France, Lieutenant-General
 +of the army of the King of Spain and the
 +Indies.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Bouckmann, chief of the hundred and twenty
 +negroes of the Blue Mountain, whose liberty was
 +recognized by the Governor-General of Belle Combe,
 +has fallen in the glorious struggle of liberty and
 +humanity against tyranny and barbarism. This
 +gallant chief has been slain in an action with the
 +white brigands of the infamous Touzard. The
 +monsters have cut off his head, and have announced
 +their intention of exposing it on a scaffold in the
 +main square of the town of Cap. Vengeance!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A gloomy silence succeeded the reading of this
 +despatch; but the Obi leapt on his altar, and waving
 +his white wand, exclaimed in accents of triumph—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='198' id='Page_198'></span>
 +“Solomon, Zerobabel, Eleazar Thaleb, Cardau,
 +Judas Bowtharicht, Avenoes, Albert the Great,
 +Bohabdil, Jean de Hagul, Anna Baratio, Daniel
 +Ogromof, Rachel Flintz, Allornino, I give you
 +thanks. The science of the spirits has not deceived
 +me; sons, friends, brothers, boys, children,
 +mothers, all of you listen to me. What was it that
 +I predicted? the marks on the forehead of Bouckmann
 +announced that his life would be a short one,
 +that he would die in battle, and that he would appear
 +on the scaffold. The revelations of my art have
 +turned out true to the letter, and those points which
 +seemed the most obscure are now the most plain.
 +Brethren, wonder and admire!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The panic of the negroes changed during this
 +discourse to a sort of admiring terror. They listened
 +to the Obi with a species of confidence mingled with
 +fear, whilst the latter, carried away by his own
 +enthusiasm, walked up and down the sugar case,
 +which presented plenty of space for his short steps.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A sneer passed over Biassou’s face as he addressed
 +the Obi.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Your reverence, since you know what is to
 +come, will you be good enough to tell me the future
 +of Jean Biassou, Brigadier-General?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The Obi halted on the top of his strange altar,
 +which the credulity of the negroes looked upon as
 +something divine, and answered, “<span class='it'>Venga vuestra
 +merced</span>” (“Come, your Excellency”). At this moment
 +the Obi was the most important man in the army;
 +the military power bowed to the spiritual.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Your hand, general?” said the Obi, stooping to
 +<span class='pageno' title='199' id='Page_199'></span>
 +grasp it. “<span class='it'>Empezo</span> (“I begin”). The line of junction
 +equally marked in its full length promises you riches
 +and happiness; the line of life strongly developed
 +announces a life exempt from ills, and a happy old
 +age. Its narrowness shows your wisdom and your
 +superior talents, as well as the generosity of your
 +heart; and, lastly, I see what chiromancers call the
 +luckiest of all signs, a number of little wrinkles in
 +the shape of a tree with its branches extending
 +upwards, this promises health and wealth, it also
 +prognosticates courage. General, it curves in the
 +direction of the little finger, this is the sign of wholesome
 +severity.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>As he said this the eyes of the Obi glanced at me
 +through the apertures of his veil, and I fancied that
 +I could catch a well-known voice under the habitual
 +gravity of his intonation, as he continued—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The line of health, marked with a number of
 +small circles, announces that you will have, for the
 +sake of the cause, to order a number of executions;
 +divided here by a half-moon, shows that you will be
 +exposed to great danger from ferocious beasts, that
 +is to say, from the whites, if you do not exterminate
 +them. The line of fortune surrounded, like the line
 +of life, by little branches rising towards the upper
 +part of the hand, confirms the position of power and
 +supremacy to which you have been called; turning
 +to the right, it is a symbol of your administrative
 +capacity. The fifth line, that of the triangle prolonged
 +to the root of the middle finger, promises you
 +success in all your undertakings. Let me see your
 +fingers: the thumb marked with little lines from
 +<span class='pageno' title='200' id='Page_200'></span>
 +the point to the nail shows that you will receive a
 +noble heritage, that of the glory of the unfortunate
 +Bouckmann, no doubt,” added the Obi, in a loud
 +voice. “The slight swelling at the root of the forefinger,
 +lightly marked with lines, promises honours
 +and dignities. The middle finger shows nothing.
 +Your little finger is covered with lines crossing each
 +other, you will vanquish all your enemies, and rise
 +high above your rivals. These lines form the cross
 +of Saint Andrew, a mark of genius and foresight. I
 +also notice the figure of a circle, another token of
 +your arrival at the highest power and dignity.
 +‘Happy the man,’ says Eleazar Thaleb, ‘who possesses
 +all these signs. Destiny has its choicest gifts
 +in store for him, and his fortunate star announces
 +the talent which will bring him glory.’ And now,
 +general, let me look at your forehead? ‘He,’ says
 +Rachel Flintz, of Bohemia, ‘who bears on his
 +forehead, on the line of the sun, a square or a triangular
 +mark, will make a great fortune.’ Here is
 +another prediction, ‘If the mark is on the right, it
 +refers to an important succession;’ that of Bouckmann
 +is, of course, again referred to. The mark in
 +the shape of a horseshoe between the eyebrows, on
 +the line of the moon, means that prompt vengeance
 +will be taken for insult and tyranny. I have this
 +mark as well as you.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The curious manner in which the Obi uttered
 +these words, “I have this mark,” attracted my
 +attention.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The mark of a lion’s claw which you have on
 +your left eyelid is only noticeable amongst men of
 +<span class='pageno' title='201' id='Page_201'></span>
 +undoubted courage; but to close this, General Jean
 +Biassou, your forehead shows every sign of the most
 +unexampled success, and on it is a combination of
 +lines which form the letter M, the commencement of
 +the name of the Blessed Virgin. In whatever part
 +of the forehead, and in whatever line of the face,
 +such a sign appears, the signification is the same—genius,
 +glory, and power. He who bears it will
 +always bring success to whatever cause he embraces,
 +and those under his command will never have to
 +regret any loss. He alone is worth all the soldiers
 +of his army. You, general, are the elect of Fate.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Thanks, your reverence,” said Biassou, preparing
 +to return to his mahogany throne.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Stay a moment, general,” said the Obi, “I
 +forgot one last sign: the line of the sun, which is so
 +strongly marked on your forehead, proves that you
 +understand the way of the world, that you possess
 +the wish to make others happy, that you have much
 +liberality, and like to do things in a magnificent
 +manner.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Biassou at once recognized his forgetfulness, and
 +drawing from his pocket a heavy purse, he threw it
 +into the plate, so as to prove that the line of the sun
 +never lies.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>But this miraculous horoscope of the general’s had
 +produced its effect upon the army. All the insurgents
 +who, since the news of the death of Bouckmann
 +attached greater weight than ever to the words of
 +the Obi, lost their feelings of uneasiness and became
 +violently enthusiastic, and trusting blindly in
 +their infallible sorcerer and their predestined chief,
 +<span class='pageno' title='202' id='Page_202'></span>
 +began to shout, “Long live our Obi! long live our
 +general!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The Obi and Biassou glanced at each other, and I
 +almost thought I could hear the stifled laugh of the
 +one replied to by the sardonic chuckle of the other.
 +I do not know how it was, but this Obi tormented me
 +dreadfully; I had a feeling that I had seen or heard
 +him before, and I made up my mind to speak to him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Ho, Obi, your reverence, doctor, here!” cried I
 +to him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He turned sharply round.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“There is some one here whose lot you have not
 +yet cast—it is mine.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He crossed his arms over the silver sun that
 +covered his hairy breast, but he made no reply.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I continued, “I would gladly know what you
 +prophesy with regard to my future, but your worthy
 +comrades have taken my watch and my purse, and I
 +suppose you will not give me a specimen of your
 +skill for nothing?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He advanced quickly to me, and muttered hoarsely
 +in my ear—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You deceive yourself, let me see your hand.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I gave it, looking fixedly at him; his eyes sparkled
 +as he bent over my hand.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“If the line of life,” said he, “is cut by two
 +transverse lines, it is the sign of immediate death,
 +your life will be a short one. If the line of health is
 +not in the centre of the hand, and if there is only
 +the line of life, and the line of fortune united so as to
 +form an angle, a natural death cannot be looked
 +for. Do not, therefore, look for a natural death!
 +<span class='pageno' title='203' id='Page_203'></span>
 +If the bottom of the forefinger has a long line cutting
 +it, a violent death will be the result. Prepare
 +yourself for a violent death!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>There was a ring of pleasure in his sepulchral
 +voice as he thus announced my death, but I listened
 +to him with contempt and indifference.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Sorcerer,” said I, with a disdainful smile, “you
 +are skilful, for you are speaking of a certainty.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Once more he came closer to me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You doubt my science,” cried he; “listen, then,
 +once more. The severance of the line of the sun on
 +your forehead shows me that you take an enemy for
 +a friend, and a friend for an enemy.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>These words seemed to refer to the treacherous
 +Pierrot, whom I loved, but who had betrayed me,
 +and to the faithful Habibrah, who I had hated, and
 +whose blood-stained garments attested his fidelity
 +and his devotion.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What do you say?” exclaimed I.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Listen until the end,” continued the Obi. “I
 +spoke of the future, listen to the past. The line of
 +the moon on your forehead is slightly curved—that
 +signifies that your wife has been carried off.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I trembled, and endeavoured to spring from my
 +seat, but my guards held me back.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You have but little patience,” continued the
 +sorcerer; “listen to the end. The little cross that
 +cuts the extremity of that curve shows me all; your
 +wife was carried off on the very night of your
 +nuptials.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Wretch,” cried I, “you know where she is!
 +Who are you?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='204' id='Page_204'></span>
 +I strove again to free myself, and to tear away his
 +veil, but I had to yield to numbers and to force, and
 +I had the mortification of seeing the mysterious Obi
 +move away repeating, “Do you believe me now?
 +Prepare for immediate death.”</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXIX.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>As</span> if to draw my attention from the perplexity into
 +which I had been thrown by the strange scene that
 +had just passed, a new and more terrible drama
 +succeeded to the farce that had been played between
 +Biassou and the Obi. Biassou had again taken his
 +place upon his mahogany throne, whilst Rigaud and
 +the Obi were seated on his right and left; the latter,
 +with his arms crossed on his breast, seemed to have
 +given himself up to deep thought. Biassou and
 +Rigaud were chewing tobacco, and an aide-de-camp
 +had just asked if he should order a general march
 +past of the forces, when a tumultuous crowd of
 +negroes, with hideous shouts, arrived at the entrance
 +of the grotto. They had brought with them three
 +white prisoners to be judged by Biassou, but what
 +they desired was easily shown by the cries of
 +“Muerte! Muerte!” “Death, death!” the latter,
 +no doubt, emanating from the English negroes of
 +Bouckmann’s band, many of whom had by this time
 +arrived to join the French and Spanish negroes of
 +Biassou.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The general with a gesture of his hand commanded
 +silence, and ordered the three captives to be brought
 +<span class='pageno' title='205' id='Page_205'></span>
 +to the entrance of the grotto. I recognized two of
 +them with considerable surprise; one was the Citizen
 +General C——, that philanthropist who was in
 +correspondence with all the lovers of the negro race
 +in different parts of the globe, and who had proposed
 +so cruel a mode of suppressing the insurrection to
 +the governor. The other was the planter of doubtful
 +origin, who manifested so great a dislike to the
 +mulattoes, amongst whom the whites insisted on
 +classing him. The third appeared to belong to a
 +section called “poor whites”—that is to say, white men
 +who had to work for their living: he wore a leathern
 +apron, and his sleeves were turned up to his elbows.
 +All the prisoners had been taken at different times,
 +endeavouring to hide themselves in the mountains.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The “poor white” was the first one that was
 +questioned.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Who are you?” asked Biassou.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I am Jacques Belin, carpenter to the Hospital
 +of the Fathers, at Cap.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Surprise and shame struggled for the mastery in
 +the features of the general.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Jacques Belin!” repeated he, biting his lips.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” replied the carpenter; “do you not recognize
 +me?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Begin,” retorted the general, furiously, “by
 +recognizing <span class='it'>me</span> and saluting me.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I do not salute <span class='it'>my slave</span>,” replied the carpenter,
 +sturdily.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Your slave, wretch!” cried the general.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” replied the carpenter; “yes, I was your
 +first master, you pretend not to recognize me, but
 +<span class='pageno' title='206' id='Page_206'></span>
 +remember, Jean Biassou, that I sold you for thirty
 +piastres in the Saint Domingo slave market.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>An expression of concentrated rage passed over
 +Biassou’s face.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Well,” continued the carpenter, “you appear
 +ashamed of having worked for me; ought not Jean
 +Biassou to feel proud of having belonged to Jacques
 +Belin? Your mother, the old idiot, has often swept
 +out my shop, but at last I sold her to the major-domo
 +of the Hospital of the Fathers, and she was so
 +old and decrepit, that he would only give me thirty-two
 +livres and six sous for her. There is my history
 +and yours, but it seems as if the negroes and the
 +mulattoes are growing proud, and that you have
 +forgotten the time when you served Master Jacques
 +Belin, the carpenter of Cap, on your knees.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Biassou listened to him with that sardonic smile
 +that gave him the appearance of a tiger.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Good,” said he; then turning to the negroes who
 +had captured Belin, “get two trestles, two planks,
 +and a saw, and take this man away. Jacques Belin,
 +carpenter of Cap, thank me, for you shall have a true
 +carpenter’s death.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>His sardonic laugh too fully explained the horrible
 +punishment that he destined for the pride of his
 +former master, but Jacques Belin did not blench, and
 +turning proudly to Biassou, cried—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, I ought to thank you, for I bought you for
 +thirty piastres, and I got work out of you to a
 +much greater amount.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>They dragged him away.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='207' id='Page_207'></span></p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXX.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>More</span> dead than alive, the other two prisoners had
 +witnessed this frightful prologue to their own chance.
 +Their timid and terrified appearance contrasted
 +with the courageous audacity of the carpenter; every
 +limb quivered with affright.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Biassou looked at them one after the other with
 +his fox-like glance, and, as if he took a pleasure in
 +prolonging their agony, began a discussion with
 +Rigaud upon the different kinds of tobacco, asserting
 +that that of Havana was only good for
 +manufacturing cigars, whilst for snuff he knew
 +nothing better than the Spanish tobacco, two barrels
 +of which Bouchmaun had sent him, being a portion
 +of the plunder of M. Lebattre’s stores in the island
 +of Tortue. Then, turning sharply upon the Citizen
 +General C——, he asked him—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What do you think?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This sudden address utterly confounded the timid
 +citizen, and he stammered out.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“General, I am entirely of your Excellency’s
 +opinion.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You flatter me,” replied Biassou; “I want <span class='it'>your</span>
 +opinion, not mine. Do you know any tobacco that
 +makes better snuff than that of M. Lebattres?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“No, my lord,” answered C——, whose evident
 +terror greatly amused Biassou.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>General, Your Excellency, My Lord!</span> you are an
 +aristocrat.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Oh no, certainly not,” exclaimed the citizen
 +<span class='pageno' title='208' id='Page_208'></span>
 +general. “I am a good patriot of ’91, and an ardent
 +<span class='it'>negrophile</span>.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Negrophile!” interrupted the general. “Pray
 +what is a negrophile?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It is a friend of the blacks,” stammered the
 +citizen.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It is not enough to be a friend of the blacks;
 +you must also be a friend of the men of colour.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Men of colour is what I should have said,”
 +replied the lover of the blacks, humbly. “I am
 +mixed up with all the most famous partisans of the
 +negroes and the mulattoes——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Delighted at the opportunity of humiliating a
 +white man, Biassou again interrupted him:</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Negroes and mulattoes!</span> What do you mean,
 +pray? Do you wish to insult me by making use of
 +those terms of contempt invented by the whites?
 +There are only men of colour and blacks here—do
 +you understand that, Mr. Planter?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It was a slip, a bad habit that I picked up in
 +childhood,” answered C——. “Pardon me, my
 +lord, I had no wish to offend you.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Leave off this <span class='it'>my lording</span> business; I have already
 +told you that I don’t like these aristocratic ways.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>C—— again endeavoured to excuse himself, and
 +began to stammer out a fresh explanation.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“If you knew, citizen——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Citizen indeed!” cried Biassou, in affected anger,
 +“I detest all this Jacobin jargon. Are you by chance
 +a Jacobin? Remember that you are speaking to the
 +generalissimo of the king’s troops.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The unhappy partisan of the negro race was
 +<span class='pageno' title='209' id='Page_209'></span>
 +dumbfounded, and did not know in what terms to
 +address this man who equally disdained the titles
 +of “my lord” or “citizen,” and the aristocratic or
 +republican modes of salutation. Biassou, whose
 +anger was only assumed, cruelly enjoyed the predicament
 +in which he had placed him. “Alas,” at
 +last said the citizen general, “you do not do me
 +justice, noble defender of the unwritten rights of the
 +larger portion of the human race.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>In his perplexity to hit upon an acceptable mode
 +of address to a man who appeared to disdain all
 +titles, he had recourse to one of those sonorous
 +periphrases which the republicans occasionally substituted
 +for the name and title of the persons with
 +whom they were in conversation.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Biassou looked at him steadily and said, “You
 +love the blacks and the men of colour?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Do I love them?” exclaimed the citizen C——.
 +“Why, I correspond with Brissot and——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Biassou interrupted him with a sardonic laugh.
 +“Ha, ha, I am glad to find in you so trusty a friend
 +to our cause; you must, of course, thoroughly detest
 +those wretched colonists who punished our insurrection
 +by a series of the most cruel executions, and
 +you, of course, think with us, that it is not the
 +blacks, but the whites, who are the true rebels, since
 +they are in arms against the laws of nature and
 +humanity? You must execrate such monsters!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I do execrate them,” answered C——.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Well,” continued Biassou, “what do you think
 +of a man who, in his endeavours to crush the last
 +efforts of the slaves to regain their liberty, placed
 +<span class='pageno' title='210' id='Page_210'></span>
 +the heads of fifty black men on each side of the
 +avenue that led to his house?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>C—— grew fearfully pale.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What do you think of a white man who would
 +propose to surround the town of Cap with a circle
 +of negro heads?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Mercy, mercy!” cried the terrified citizen general.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Am I threatening you?” replied Biassou, coldly.
 +“Let me finish; a circle of heads that would reach
 +from Fort Picolet to Cape Caracol. What do you
 +think of that? Answer me.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The words of Biassou, “Do I threaten you,” had
 +given a faint ray of hope to C——, for he fancied that
 +the general might have heard of this terrible proposition
 +without knowing the author of it; he therefore
 +replied with all the firmness that he could muster,
 +in order to remove any impression that the idea was
 +his own: “I consider such a suggestion an atrocious
 +crime.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Biassou chuckled.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Good, and what punishment should be inflicted
 +on the man who proposed it?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The unfortunate C—— hesitated.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What!” cried Biassou, “you hesitate! Are you,
 +or are you not, the friend of the blacks?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Of the two alternatives the wretched man chose the
 +least threatening one, and seeing no hostile light in
 +Biassou’s eyes, he answered in a low voice—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The guilty person deserves death.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Well answered,” replied Biassou, calmly, throwing
 +aside the tobacco that he had been chewing.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>His assumed air of indifference had completely
 +<span class='pageno' title='211' id='Page_211'></span>
 +deceived the unfortunate lover of the negro race, and
 +he made another effort to dissipate any suspicions
 +which might have been engendered against him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“No one,” cried he, “has a more ardent desire
 +for your success than I. I correspond with Brissot
 +and Pruneau de Pomme-Gouge in France, with
 +Magaw in America, with Peter Paulus in Holland,
 +with the Abbé Tamburini in Italy.” And he was
 +continuing to unfold the same string of names which
 +he had formerly repeated, but with a different motive,
 +at the council held at M. de Blanchelande’s, when
 +Biassou interrupted him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What do I care with whom you correspond!
 +Tell me rather where are your granaries and store-houses,
 +for my army has need of supplies; your plantation
 +is doubtless a rich one, and your business
 +must be lucrative since you correspond with so many
 +merchants.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>C—— ventured timidly to remark—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Hero of humanity, they are not merchants, but
 +philosophers, philanthropists, lovers of the race of
 +blacks.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Then,” said Biassou, with a shake of his head,
 +“if you have nothing that can be plundered, what
 +good are you?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This question afforded a chance of safety of which
 +C—— eagerly availed himself.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Illustrious warrior,” exclaimed he, “have you
 +an economist in your army?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What is that?” asked the general.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It is,” replied the prisoner, with as much calmness
 +as his fears would permit him to assume, “a
 +<span class='pageno' title='212' id='Page_212'></span>
 +most necessary man, one whom all appreciate, one
 +who follows out and classes in their proper order the
 +respective material resources of an empire, and gives
 +to each its real value, increasing and improving them
 +by combining their sources and results, and pouring
 +them like fertilizing streams into the main river of
 +general utility, which in its turn swells the great sea
 +of public prosperity.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Caramba</span>,” observed Biassou, leaning over towards
 +the Obi. “What the deuce does he mean by
 +all these words strung together like the beads on
 +your rosary?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The Obi shrugged his shoulders in sign of ignorance
 +and disdain as citizen C—— continued—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“If you will permit me to observe, valiant chief of
 +the regenerators of Saint Domingo, I have carefully
 +studied the works of the greatest economists of the
 +world—Turgot, Raynal, and Mirabeau the friend of
 +man. I have put their theories into practice, I
 +thoroughly understand the science indispensable for
 +the government of kingdoms and states——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The economist is not economical of his words,”
 +observed Rigaud, with his bland and cunning smile.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“But you, eternal talker,” cried Biassou, “tell me,
 +have I any kingdoms or states to govern?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Not yet perhaps, great man, but they will come;
 +and besides, my knowledge descends to all the useful
 +details which are comprised in the interior economy
 +of an army.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The general again interrupted him: “I have
 +nothing to do with the interior economy of the army,
 +I command it.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='213' id='Page_213'></span>
 +“Good,” replied the citizen; “you shall be the
 +commander, I will be the commissary; I have much
 +special knowledge as to the increase of cattle——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Do you think we are going to breed cattle?” cried
 +Biassou, with his sardonic laugh. “No, my good
 +fellow, we are content with eating them; when cattle
 +become scarce in the French colony I shall cross the
 +line of mountains on the frontier and take the Spanish
 +sheep and oxen from the plains of Cotury, of La Vega,
 +of St. Jago, and from the banks of the Yuna; if necessary
 +I will go as far as the Island of Jamaica, and to
 +the back of the mountain of Cibos, and from the
 +mouths of the Neybe to those of Santo Domingo;
 +besides, I should be glad to punish those infernal
 +Spanish planters for giving up Ogé to the French.
 +You see I am not uneasy as regards provisions, and
 +so have no need of <span class='it'>your knowledge</span>.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This open declaration rather disconcerted the poor
 +economist; he made, however, one more effort for
 +safety. “My studies,” said he, “have not been limited
 +to the reproduction of cattle, I am acquainted with
 +other special branches of knowledge that may be very
 +useful to you; I can show you the method of manufacturing
 +pitch and working coal mines.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What do I care for that!” exclaimed Biassou.
 +“When I want charcoal I burn a few leagues of
 +forest.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I can tell you the proper kinds of wood to use
 +for shipbuilding—the <span class='it'>chicarm</span> and the <span class='it'>sabicca</span> for the
 +keels, the <span class='it'>yabas</span> for the knees, the medlars for the
 +framework, the <span class='it'>hacotnas</span>, the <span class='it'>gaïacs</span>, the cedars, the
 +acomas——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='214' id='Page_214'></span>
 +“<span class='it'>Que te lleven todos los demonios de los diez-y-siete
 +infernos!</span>” (“May the devils of the thirty-seven hells
 +fly away with you!”), cried Biassou, boiling over with
 +impatience.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I beg your pardon, my gracious patron,” said the
 +trembling economist, who did not understand Spanish.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Listen,” said Biassou, “I don’t want to build
 +vessels; there is only one vacancy that I can offer you,
 +and that is not a very important one; I want a man
 +to wait upon me; and now, Mr. Philosopher, tell me
 +if that will suit you; you will have to serve me on
 +your bended knees, you will prepare my pipe, cook
 +my <span class='it'>calalou</span> and turtle soup, and you will stand behind
 +me with a fan of peacock or parrot feathers like those
 +two pages; now will the situation suit you?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Citizen C——, whose only desire was to save his
 +life, bent to the earth with a thousand expressions of
 +joy and gratitude.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You accept my offer, then?” asked Biassou.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Can you ask such a question, generous master?
 +do you think that I should hesitate for a moment in
 +accepting so distinguished a post as that of being in
 +constant attendance on you?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At this reply the diabolical sneer of Biassou became
 +more pronounced. He rose up with an air of triumph,
 +crossed his arms on his chest, and thrusting aside
 +with his foot the white man’s head who was prostrate
 +on the ground before him, he cried in a loud voice—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I am delighted at being able to fathom how far
 +the cowardice of the white man could go, I have
 +already measured the extent of his cruelty. Citizen
 +C——, it is to you that I owe this double experience.
 +<span class='pageno' title='215' id='Page_215'></span>
 +I knew all; how could you have been sufficiently
 +besotted to think that I did not? It was you who
 +presided at the executions of June, July, and August;
 +it was you who placed fifty negro heads on each side
 +of your avenue; it was you who proposed to slaughter
 +the five hundred negroes who were confined in irons
 +after the revolt, and to encircle the town of Cap with
 +their heads from Fort Picolet to Cape Caracol. If
 +you could have done it you would have placed my
 +head amongst them, and now you think yourself
 +lucky if I will take you as my body-servant. No,
 +no! I have more regard for your honour than you
 +yourself have, and I will not inflict this affront on
 +you; prepare to die!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At a gesture of his hand the negroes removed the
 +unhappy lover of the blacks to a position near me,
 +where overwhelmed by the honour of his position, he
 +fell to the ground without being able to articulate a
 +word.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXXI.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>“It</span> is your turn now,” said the general, turning to
 +the last of the prisoners, the planter who was accused
 +by the white men of having black blood in his veins,
 +and who had on that account sent me a challenge.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A general clamour drowned the reply of the planter.
 +“Muerte! Death! Mort! Touyé!” cried the negroes,
 +grinding their teeth, and shaking their fists at the
 +unhappy captive.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“General,” said a mulatto, making himself heard
 +<span class='pageno' title='216' id='Page_216'></span>
 +above the uproar, “he is a white man, and he must
 +die.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The miserable planter, by cries and gesticulations,
 +managed to edge in some words. “No, general, no,
 +my brothers, it is an infamous calumny, I am a
 +mulatto like yourselves, of mixed blood; my mother
 +was a negress, like your mothers and sisters.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“He lies,” cried the infuriated negroes, “he is a
 +white man, he has always detested the coloured
 +people.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Never,” retorted the prisoner; “it is the whites
 +that I detest; I have always said with you, ‘<span class='it'>Negre cé
 +blan, blan cé negre</span>’ (‘The negroes are the masters, the
 +whites are the slaves’).”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Not at all,” cried the crowd, “not at all; kill the
 +white man, kill him!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Still the unhappy wretch kept repeating in heart-rending
 +accents, “I am a mulatto, I am one of yourselves.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Give me a proof,” was Biassou’s sole reply.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“A proof,” answered the prisoner, wildly, “the
 +proof is that the whites have always despised me.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“That may be true,” returned Biassou, “but you are
 +an insolent hound to tell us so.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A young mulatto stepped to the front and addressed
 +the planter in an excited manner.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“That the whites despised you is a fact; but, on
 +the other hand, you affected to look down upon the
 +mulattoes amongst whom they classed you. It has
 +even been reported that you once challenged a white
 +man who called you a half caste.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A howl of execration arose from the crowd, and
 +<span class='pageno' title='217' id='Page_217'></span>
 +the cry of “death” was repeated more loudly than
 +ever, whilst the planter, casting an appealing glance
 +at me, continued, with tears in his eyes—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It is a calumny, my greatest glory and happiness
 +is in belonging to the blacks, I am a mulatto.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“If you really were a mulatto,” observed Rigaud,
 +quietly, “you would not make use of such an expression.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“How do I know what I am saying?” asked the
 +panic-stricken wretch. “General, the proof that I am
 +of mixed blood is in the black circle that you see
 +round the bottom of my nails.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Biassou thrust aside the suppliant hand.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I do not possess the knowledge of our chaplain,
 +who can tell what a man is by looking at his hand.
 +But listen to me: my soldiers accuse you—some, of
 +being a white man; others, of being a false brother.
 +If this is the case you ought to die. You, on the
 +other hand, assert that you belong to our race, and
 +that you have never denied it. There is one method
 +by which you can prove your assertions. Take this
 +dagger and stab these two white prisoners!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>As he spoke, with a wave of his hand, he designated
 +the citizen C—— and myself.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The planter drew back from the dagger which,
 +with a devilish smile on his face, Biassou presented
 +to him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What,” said the general, “do you hesitate? It
 +is your only chance of proving your assertion to the
 +army that you are not a white, and are one of ourselves.
 +Come, decide at once, for we have no time to
 +lose.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='218' id='Page_218'></span>
 +The prisoner’s eyes glared wildly; he stretched out
 +his hand towards the dagger, then let his arm fall
 +again, turning away his head, whilst every limb
 +quivered with emotion.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Come, come,” cried Biassou, in tones of impatience
 +and anger, “I am in a hurry. Choose—either kill
 +them, or die with them!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The planter remained motionless, as if he had been
 +turned to stone.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Good!” said Biassou, turning towards the negroes,
 +“he does not wish to be the executioner, let him be
 +the victim. I can see that he is nothing but a white
 +man—away with him!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The negroes advanced to seize him. This movement
 +impelled him to immediate choice between
 +giving or receiving death.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Extreme cowardice produces a bastard species of
 +courage.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Stepping forward, he snatched the dagger that
 +Biassou still held out to him, and without giving
 +himself time to reflect upon what he was about to
 +do, he precipitated himself like a tiger upon citizen
 +C——, who was lying on the ground near me.
 +Then a terrible struggle commenced. The lover of
 +the negro race, who had, at the conclusion of his
 +interview with Biassou, remained plunged in a state
 +of despair and stupor, had hardly noticed the scene
 +between the general and the planter, so absorbed was
 +he in the thought of his approaching death; but
 +when he saw the man rush upon him, and the steel
 +gleam above his head, the imminence of his danger
 +aroused him at once. He started to his feet, grasped
 +<span class='pageno' title='219' id='Page_219'></span>
 +the arm of his would-be murderer, and exclaimed in
 +a voice of terror—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Pardon, pardon! What are you doing? What
 +have I done?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You must die, sir,” said the half-caste, fixing his
 +frenzied eyes upon his victim, and endeavouring to
 +disengage his arm. “Let me do it; I will not hurt
 +you.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Die by your hand,” cried the economist; “but
 +why? Spare me; you wish perhaps to kill me because
 +I used to say that you were a mulatto. But spare
 +my life, and I vow that I will always declare that
 +you are a white man. Yes, you are white, I will say
 +so everywhere, but spare me!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The unfortunate man had taken the wrong method
 +of sueing for mercy.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Silence, silence!” cried the half-caste, furious at
 +the idea of the danger he was incurring, and fearing
 +that the negroes would hear the assertion.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>But the other cried louder than ever, that he knew
 +that he was a white man, and of good family.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The half-caste made a last effort to impose silence
 +on him; then finding his efforts vain, he thrust aside
 +his arms, and pressed the dagger upon C——’s
 +breast.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The unhappy man felt the point of the weapon,
 +and in his despair bit the arm that was driving the
 +dagger home.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Monster! wretch!” exclaimed he, “you are murdering
 +me.” Then casting a glance of supplication
 +towards Biassou, he cried, “Defend me, avenger of
 +humanity.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='220' id='Page_220'></span>
 +Then the murderer pressed more heavily on the
 +dagger; a gush of blood bubbled over his fingers, and
 +spattered his face. The knees of the unhappy lover
 +of the negro race bent beneath him, his arms fell by
 +his side, his eyes closed, he uttered a stifled groan,
 +and fell dead.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXXII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>I was</span> paralyzed with horror at this scene, in which
 +I every moment expected to play an important part.
 +The <span class='it'>Avenger of Humanity</span> had gazed on the struggle
 +without a lineament of his features changing. When
 +all was over, he turned to his terrified pages. “More
 +tobacco,” said he, and began to chew calmly.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The Obi and Rigaud were equally impassible, but
 +the negroes appeared terrified at the horrible drama
 +that their general had caused to be enacted before
 +them.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>One white man, however, yet remained to be
 +slaughtered—my turn had come. I cast a glance
 +upon the murderer who was about to become my
 +executioner, and a feeling of pity came over me.
 +His lips were violet, his teeth chattered, a convulsive
 +tremor caused every limb to quiver. By a mechanical
 +movement his hand was continually passed over his
 +forehead, as if to obliterate the traces of the blood
 +which had so liberally sprinkled it; he looked with
 +an air of terrified wonder at the bleeding body which
 +lay at his feet, as though he were unable to detach
 +his strained eyeballs from the spectacle of his victim.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='221' id='Page_221'></span>
 +I waited for the moment when he would resume
 +his task of blood. The position was a strange one:
 +he had already tried to kill me and failed, to prove
 +that he was white, and now he was going to murder
 +me to show that he was black.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Come,” said Biassou, addressing him, “this is
 +good; I am pleased with you, my friend.” Then
 +glancing at me, he added. “You need not finish the
 +other one; and now I declare you one of us, and
 +name you executioner to the army.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At these words a negro stepped out of the ranks,
 +and bowing three times to the general, cried out in
 +his jargon—which I will spare you—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“And I, general?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Well, what do you want?” asked Biassou.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Are you going to do nothing for me, general?”
 +asked the negro. “Here you give an important post
 +to this dog of a white, who murders to save his own
 +skin, and to prove that he is one of ourselves. Have
 +you no post to give to me, who am a true black?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This unexpected request seemed to embarrass
 +Biassou, and Rigaud whispered to him in French—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You can’t satisfy him; try to elude his request.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You wish for promotion, then?” asked Biassou
 +of the <span class='it'>true black</span>. “Well, I am willing enough to
 +grant it to you. What grade do you wish for?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I wish to be an officer.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“An officer, eh?—and what are your claims to the
 +epaulet founded on?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It was I,” answered the negro, emphatically,
 +“who set fire to the house of Lagoscelte in the first
 +days of August last. It was I who murdered M.
 +<span class='pageno' title='222' id='Page_222'></span>
 +Clement the planter, and carried the head of his
 +sugar refiner on my pike. I killed ten white women
 +and seven small children, one of whom on the point
 +of a spear served as a standard for Bouckmann’s
 +brave blacks. Later on I burnt alive the families of
 +four colonists, whom I had locked up in the strong
 +room of Fort Galifet. My father was broken on the
 +wheel at Cap, my brother was hung at Rocrow, and
 +I narrowly escaped being shot. I have burnt three
 +coffee plantations, six indigo estates, and two hundred
 +acres of sugar-cane; I murdered my master, M. Noé,
 +and his mother——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Spare us the recital of your services,” said
 +Rigaud, whose feigned benevolence was the mask
 +for real cruelty, but who was ferocious with decency,
 +and could not listen to this cynical confession of
 +deeds of violence.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I could quote many others,” continued the negro,
 +proudly, “but you will no doubt consider that these
 +are sufficient to insure my promotion, and to entitle
 +me to wear a gold epaulet like my comrades there,”
 +pointing to the staff of Biassou.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The general affected to reflect for a few minutes,
 +and then gravely addressed the negro.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I am satisfied with your services, and should be
 +pleased to promote you, but you must satisfy me on
 +one point. Do you understand Latin?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The astonished negro opened his eyes widely.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Eh, general?” said he.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” repeated Biassou, quickly; “do you understand
 +Latin?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“La—Latin?” stammered the astonished negro.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='223' id='Page_223'></span>
 +“Yes, yes, yes, Latin; do you understand Latin?”
 +said the cunning chief, and unfolding a banner upon
 +which was embroidered the verse from the Psalms,
 +“<span class='it'>In exitu Israël de Egypto</span>,” he added, “Explain the
 +meaning of these words.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The negro, in complete ignorance of what was
 +meant, remained silent and motionless, fumbling
 +with the waistband of his trousers, whilst his astonished
 +eyes wandered from the banner to the general,
 +and from the general back again to the banner.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Come, go on,” exclaimed Biassou, impatiently.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The negro opened and shut his mouth several
 +times, scratched his head, and at last said slowly—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I don’t understand it, general.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“How, scoundrel!” cried Biassou; “you wish
 +to become an officer, and you do not understand
 +Latin!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“But, general,” stammered the puzzled negro.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Silence,” roared Biassou, whose anger appeared
 +to increase; “I do not know what prevents me from
 +having you shot at once. Did you ever hear such a
 +thing, Rigaud? he wants to be an officer, and does
 +not understand Latin. Well then, idiot, as you do
 +not understand, I will explain what is written on this
 +banner: <span class='it'>In exitu</span>—every soldier, <span class='it'>Israël</span>—who does not
 +understand Latin, <span class='it'>de Egypto</span>—cannot be made an
 +officer. Is not that the translation, reverend sir?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The Obi bowed his head in the affirmative, and
 +Biassou continued—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“This brother of whom you are jealous, and whom
 +I have appointed executioner, understands Latin!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He turned to the new executioner—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='224' id='Page_224'></span>
 +“You know Latin, do you not? prove it to this
 +blockhead. What is the meaning of <span class='it'>Dominus vobiscum</span>?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The unhappy half-caste, roused from his gloomy
 +reverie by the dreaded voice, raised his head, and
 +though his brain was still troubled by the cowardly
 +murder that he had just committed, terror compelled
 +him to be obedient.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>There was something pitiable in his manner, as
 +his mind went back to his schooldays, and in the
 +midst of his terrible feelings and remorse he repeated,
 +in the tone of a child saying its lesson, “<span class='it'>Dominus
 +vobiscum</span>—that means, ‘May the Lord be with you.’ ”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Et cum spirito tuo</span>,” added the mysterious Obi,
 +solemnly.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Amen,” repeated Biassou; then resuming his
 +angry manner, and mingling with his reproaches
 +some Latin phrases to impress the negroes with the
 +superior attainments of their chief, he cried, “Go to
 +the rear rank, <span class='it'>sursum corda</span>; never attempt to enter
 +the places of those who know Latin, <span class='it'>orate fratres</span>, or
 +I will have you hung. <span class='it'>Bonus, bona, bonum!</span>”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The astonished and terrified negro slunk away,
 +greeted by the hoots and hisses of his comrades,
 +who were indignant at his presumption, and impressed
 +with the deep learning of their general.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Burlesque though this scene was, it inspired me
 +with a very high idea of Biassou’s administrative
 +capabilities. He had made ridicule the means of
 +repressing ambitious aspirations, which are always
 +so dangerous to authority in undisciplined bodies;
 +and his cunning gave me a fuller idea of his mental
 +<span class='pageno' title='225' id='Page_225'></span>
 +powers, and the crass ignorance of the negroes under
 +his command.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> breakfast hour had now arrived; the shell of a
 +turtle was placed before Biassou, in which smoked a
 +species of <span class='it'>olla-podrida</span> seasoned with bacon, in which
 +turtle flesh took the place of lamb; an enormous
 +carib cabbage floated on the surface of the stew, and
 +in addition, on strips of bark, were dried raisins and
 +water-melons, a loaf of maize bread; and a bottle of
 +wine, bound round with tarred string, completed the
 +feast. Biassou took from his pocket a few heads of
 +garlic and rubbed his bread with them; then, without
 +even ordering the bleeding form to be carried away,
 +he began to eat, inviting Rigaud to do the same.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>There was something terrible in Biassou’s appetite.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The Obi did not join their repast; like others in
 +his profession, I could easily understand that he
 +never took anything in public, to induce a belief
 +amongst the negroes that he lived entirely without
 +food.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>During breakfast, Biassou ordered one of his aides-de-camp
 +to order the march past to commence, and
 +the different corps began to defile past in fairly good
 +order. The negroes of Morne-Rouge were the first;
 +there were about four thousand of them, divided into
 +companies commanded by chiefs, who were distinguished
 +by their scarlet breeches and sashes.
 +This force was composed of tall and powerful negroes;
 +<span class='pageno' title='226' id='Page_226'></span>
 +some of them carried guns, axes, and sabres, but
 +many had no other arms than bows and arrows, and
 +javelins rudely fashioned by themselves. They
 +carried no standard, and moved past in mournful
 +silence. As they marched on, Biassou whispered
 +to Rigaud—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“When will Blanchelande’s and Rouvray’s shot
 +and shell free me from these bandits of Morne-Rouge?
 +I hate them, they are nearly all of them
 +<span class='it'>Congos</span>, and they only believe in killing in open battle—following
 +the example of their chief Bug-Jargal, a
 +young fool, who plays at being generous and magnanimous.
 +You do not know him, Rigaud, and I
 +hope you never will, for the whites have taken him
 +prisoner, and they may perhaps rid me of him, as
 +they did of Bouckmann.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Speaking of Bouckmann,” answered Rigaud,
 +“there are the negroes of Macaya just passing, and
 +I see in their ranks the negro whom Jean François
 +sent to you with the news of Bouckmann’s death.
 +Do you know that that man might upset all the
 +prophecies of the Obi, if he were to say that he had
 +been kept for more than half an hour at the outposts,
 +and that he had told me the news before you sent
 +for him?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Diabolo!” answered Biassou, “you are in the
 +right, my friend; this man’s mouth must be shut.
 +Wait a bit.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then raising his voice he called out “Macaya.”
 +The leader of the division left the ranks, and approached
 +the general with the stock of his firelock
 +reversed, in token of respect.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='227' id='Page_227'></span>
 +“Make that man who does not belong to your
 +division leave his rank and come forward.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Macaya speedily brought the messenger of Jean
 +François before the general, who at once assumed
 +that appearance of anger which he knew so well how
 +to simulate.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Who are you?” cried he.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“General, I am a black.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Carramba, I can see that well enough; but
 +what is your name?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“My name is Vavelan, my patron saint is Sabas,
 +deacon and martyr, whose feast is on the twentieth
 +day before the Nativity of our Lord.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Biassou interrupted him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“How dare you present yourself on parade, amidst
 +shining muskets and white cross-belts, with your
 +sword without a sheath, your breeches torn, and
 +your feet muddy?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“General,” answered the negro, “it is not my
 +fault. I was despatched by the Grand Admiral,
 +Jean François, to bring you the news of the death of
 +the chief of the English negroes; and if my clothes
 +are torn and my feet bemired, it is because I have
 +run, without stopping to take breath, to bring you the
 +news as soon as possible, but they detained me at——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Biassou frowned.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I did not ask you about that, but how you
 +dared to enter the ranks in so unbecoming a dress.
 +Commend your soul to Saint Sabas, your patron,
 +the deacon and martyr, and go and get yourself
 +shot.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>And here I had another proof of the ascendency
 +<span class='pageno' title='228' id='Page_228'></span>
 +that Biassou exercised over the insurgents. The
 +unfortunate man who was ordered to go and get
 +himself executed did not utter a protest; he bowed
 +his head, crossed his arms on his breast, saluted his
 +pitiless judge three times, and after having knelt to
 +the Obi, who gave him plenary absolution, he left
 +the cavern.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A few minutes afterwards a volley of musketry told
 +us that Biassou’s commands had been obeyed, and
 +that the negro was no more.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Freed from all sources of uneasiness, the general
 +turned to Rigaud, a gleam of pleasure in his eye, and
 +gave a triumphant chuckle which seemed to say—“Admire
 +me!”</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>But</span> the march past still continued. This army,
 +which had presented so curious a spectacle in camp,
 +had a no less extraordinary appearance under arms.
 +Sometimes a horde of almost naked negroes would
 +come along armed with clubs and tomahawks,
 +marching to the notes of a goat’s horn like mere
 +savages; then would come regiments of mulattoes,
 +dressed in the English or Spanish manner, well
 +armed and equipped, regulating the pace by the roll
 +of the drum; then a band of negresses and their
 +children carrying forks and spits, then some tag-rag
 +bent under the weight of an old musket without lock
 +or barrel; <span class='it'>griotes</span> with their feathered aprons, <span class='it'>griots</span>
 +dancing with hideous contortions, and singing incoherent
 +<span class='pageno' title='229' id='Page_229'></span>
 +airs to the accompaniment of guitars, tom-toms,
 +and balafos. Then would be a procession of
 +priests, or Obi men, half-castes, quarter-castes, free
 +mulattoes, or wandering hordes of escaped slaves with
 +a proud look of liberty on their faces and shining
 +muskets on their shoulders, dragging in their ranks
 +well-filled waggons, or some artillery taken from the
 +whites, which were looked on more as trophies than
 +as military engines, and yelling out at the top of
 +their voices the songs of Grand-Pré and Oua-Nassé.
 +Above their heads floated flags, banners, and
 +standards of every form, colour, and device—white,
 +red, tricolour, with the lilies, with the cap of liberty,
 +bearing inscriptions—<span class='it'>Death to Priests and Nobles</span>;
 +<span class='it'>Long live Religion</span>; <span class='it'>Liberty and Equality</span>; <span class='it'>Long live
 +the King</span>; <span class='it'>Viva España</span>; <span class='it'>No more Tyrants</span>, &amp;c.;—a
 +confusion of sentiments which showed that the insurgents
 +were a mere crowd collected together, with
 +ideas as different as were the men who composed it.
 +On passing in their turn before the cave the companies
 +drooped their banners, and Biassou returned
 +the salute. He addressed every band either in praise
 +or censure, and each word that dropped from his
 +mouth was received by his men with fanatical respect
 +or superstitious dread.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The wave of savage soldiery passed away at last.
 +I confess that the sight that had at first afforded
 +some distraction to my feelings, finished by wearying
 +me. The sun went down as the last ranks filed
 +away, and his last rays cast a copper-coloured hue
 +upon the granite portals of the cave.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='230' id='Page_230'></span></p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXXV.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Biassou</span> seemed to be dreaming. When the review
 +was concluded, his last orders had been given, and
 +the insurgents had retired to the huts, he condescended
 +to address me again.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Young man,” said he, “you have now had the
 +means of judging of my power and genius; the
 +time has now arrived for you to bear the report to
 +Leogri.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It is not my fault that he has not had it earlier,”
 +answered I, coldly.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You are right,” replied Biassou. He then
 +paused, as if to note what the effect would be upon
 +me of what he was going to say, and then added,
 +“But it will depend upon yourself whether you ever
 +carry the message or not.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What do you mean?” exclaimed I, in astonishment.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Why,” replied he, “that your life depends upon
 +yourself, and that you can save it if you will.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This sudden paroxysm of pity—the first, and no
 +doubt the last, which had ever possessed Biassou—surprised
 +me much, and astonished the Obi so greatly
 +that he leapt from the position which he had so long
 +maintained, and, placing himself face to face with
 +the general, addressed him in angry tones.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What are you saying? Have you forgotten your
 +promise? Neither God nor you can dispose of this
 +life, for it belongs to me.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At that instant I thought that I recognized the
 +<span class='pageno' title='231' id='Page_231'></span>
 +voice; but it was but a fleeting recollection, and in a
 +moment had passed away.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Biassou got up from his seat without betraying
 +any anger, spoke for a few moments in whispers to
 +the Obi, and pointed to the black flag which I had
 +already remarked, and after a little more conversation
 +the Obi nodded in sign of assent. Both of them
 +then reverted to their former positions.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Listen to me,” said the general, drawing from
 +his pocket the dispatch which Jean François had
 +sent to him. “Things are going ill. Bouckmann has
 +been killed. The whites have slaughtered more than
 +two thousand of our men in the district of Cul-de-Sac.
 +The colonists are continuing to establish and to
 +fortify military posts. By our own folly we have lost
 +the chance of taking Cap, and it will be long before
 +another occasion will present itself. On the eastern
 +side our line of march has been cut by a river, and
 +the whites have defended the passage by a pontoon
 +battery and a fortified camp. On the south side
 +they have planted artillery on the mountainous road
 +called the Haut-du-Cap. The position is, in addition,
 +defended by a strong stockade, at which all the inhabitants
 +have laboured, and in front of it there is a
 +strong <span class='it'>chevaux de frise</span>. Cap, therefore, is beyond
 +our reach. Our ambush in the ravines of Dompté-Mulâtre
 +was a failure; and, to add to all these misfortunes,
 +the Siamese fever has devastated our camps.
 +In consequence, the Grand Admiral (and I agree
 +with him) has decided to treat with the Governor
 +Blanchelande and the Colonial Assembly. Here is
 +the letter that we have addressed to the assembly on
 +this matter. Listen!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='232' id='Page_232'></span></p>
 +
 +<div class='blockquote'>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“ ‘<span class='sc'>Gentlemen of the House of Deputies</span>,—</p>
 +
 +<p class='indent4'>“ ‘In the great misfortunes which have afflicted
 +this great and important colony we have also been
 +enveloped, and there remains nothing for us to say
 +in justification of our conduct. One day you will
 +render us the justice that our conduct merits.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“ ‘According to us, the King of Spain is a good
 +king who treats us well, and has <span class='it'>testified it to us by
 +rewards</span>; so we shall continue to serve him with zeal
 +and devotion.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“ ‘We see by the law of September 28, 1791,
 +that the National Assembly and the King have
 +agreed to settle definitely the status of slaves, and
 +the political situation of people of colour. We will
 +defend the decrees of the National Assembly with
 +the last drop of our blood.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“ ‘It would be most interesting to us if you would
 +declare, by an order sanctioned by your general, as to
 +your intentions regarding the position of the slaves.
 +Knowing that they are the objects of your solicitude
 +through their chiefs, who send you this, they will be
 +satisfied if the relations now broken are once again
 +resumed.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Do not count, gentlemen Deputies, upon our
 +consenting to take up arms for the revolutionary
 +Assemblies. We are the subjects of three kings—the
 +King of Congo, the born master of all the blacks;
 +the King of France, who represents our fathers; and
 +the King of Spain, who is the representative of our
 +mothers. These three kings are the descendants of
 +those who, conducted by a star, worshipped the Man
 +God. If we were to consent to serve the Assemblies,
 +<span class='pageno' title='233' id='Page_233'></span>
 +we might be forced to take up arms and to make war
 +against our brothers, the subjects of those three
 +kings to whom we have sworn fidelity. And, besides,
 +we do not know what is meant by the will of the
 +Nation, seeing that since the world has been in existence
 +we have always executed that of the King. The
 +Prince of France loves us; the King of Spain never
 +ceases to help us. We aid them—they aid us; it is
 +the cause of humanity; and, besides, if these kings
 +should fail us we could soon <span class='it'>enthrone a king of our
 +own</span>.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Such are our intentions, although we now consent
 +to make peace.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“ ‘<span class='it'>Signed</span>, <span class='sc'>Jean François</span>, General; <span class='sc'>Biassou</span>,
 +Brigadier; <span class='sc'>Desprez</span>, <span class='sc'>Manzeau</span>, <span class='sc'>Toussaint</span>, <span class='sc'>Aubert</span>,
 +Commissaires; <span class='it'>ad hoc</span>.’ ”<a id='r3'/><a href='#f3' style='text-decoration:none'><sup><span style='font-size:0.9em'>[3]</span></sup></a></p>
 +
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You see,” said Biassou, after he had read this
 +piece of negro diplomacy, every word of which has
 +remained imprinted on my memory, “that our intentions
 +are peaceable; but this is what we want
 +you to do: neither Jean François nor I have been
 +brought up in the schools of the whites, or learned
 +the niceties of their language. We know how to
 +fight, but not how to write. Now we do not wish
 +that there should be anything in our letter at which
 +our former masters could laugh. You seem to have
 +learned those frivolous accomplishments in which
 +we are lacking. Correct any faults you may find in
 +<span class='pageno' title='234' id='Page_234'></span>
 +this dispatch, so that it may excite no derision
 +amongst the whites, and—I will give you your life!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This proposition of becoming the corrector of
 +Biassou’s faults of spelling and composition was
 +too repugnant to my pride for me to hesitate for a
 +moment; and besides, what did I care for life. I
 +declined his offer. He appeared surprised.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What!” exclaimed he, “you prefer death to
 +scrawling a few marks with a pen on a piece of
 +paper?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” replied I.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>My determination seemed to embarrass him. After
 +a few moments of thought he again addressed me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Listen, young fool. I am less obstinate than you
 +are; I give you until to-morrow evening, up to the
 +setting of the sun, when you shall again be brought
 +before me. Think well then, before you refuse to
 +obey my wishes. Adieu. Let night bring reflection
 +to you, and remember that with us death is not
 +simply death—much comes before you reach it.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The frightful sardonic grin with which he concluded
 +his last speech too plainly brought to my recollection
 +the awful tortures which it was Biassou’s greatest
 +pleasure to inflict upon his prisoners.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Candi,” continued Biassou, “remove the prisoner,
 +and give him in charge to the men of Morne-Rouge.
 +I wish him to live for another day, and perhaps my
 +other soldiers would not have the patience to let him
 +do so.” The mulatto Candi, who commanded the
 +guard, caused my arms to be bound behind my back,
 +a soldier took hold of the end of the cord, and we left
 +the grotto.</p>
 +
 +<hr class='footnotemark'/>
 +
 +<div class='footnote'>
 +<table summary='footnote_3'>
 +<colgroup>
 +<col span='1' style='width: 3em;'/>
 +<col span='1'/>
 +</colgroup>
 +<tr><td style='vertical-align:top;'>
 +<div id='f3'><a href='#r3'>[3]</a></div>
 +</td><td>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>It is a fact that this ridiculously characteristic letter was
 +sent to the Assembly.</p>
 +
 +</td></tr>
 +</table>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='235' id='Page_235'></span></p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>When</span> any extraordinary events, unexpected anxieties
 +or catastrophes, intrude themselves suddenly into a
 +life up to that period peaceful and happy, these
 +unexpected emotions interrupt the repose of the soul
 +which lay dreaming in the monotony of prosperity.
 +Misfortune which comes on you in this manner does
 +not seem like an awakening from bliss, but rather
 +like a dream of evil. With the man who has been
 +invariably happy, despair begins with stupor. Unexpected
 +misery is like cramp—it clasps, and deadens
 +everything. Men, acts, and things, at that time pass
 +before us like a fantastic apparition, and move along
 +as if in a dream. Everything in the horizon of our
 +life is changed, both the atmosphere and the perspective,
 +but it still goes on for a long time before
 +our eyes have lost that sort of luminous image of past
 +happiness which follows in its train, and interposes
 +without cessation between it and the sombre present.
 +Then everything that is, appears to be unreal and
 +ridiculous, and we can scarcely believe in our own
 +existence, because we find nothing around us that
 +formerly used to compose our life, and we cannot
 +understand how all can have gone away without
 +taking us with it, and why nothing of our life remains
 +to us.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Were this strained position of the soul to continue
 +long, it would disturb the equilibrium of the brain and
 +become madness—a state happier perhaps than that
 +which remains, for life then is nothing but a vision of
 +past misfortune, acting like a ghost.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='236' id='Page_236'></span></p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Gentlemen</span>, I hardly know why I lay before you my
 +ideas upon such a subject; they are not those which
 +you understand, or can be made to understand. To
 +thoroughly comprehend them, you must have gone
 +through what I have. But such was the state of my
 +mind when the guards of Biassou handed me over to
 +the negroes of Morne-Rouge. I was still in a dream:
 +it appeared as if one body of phantoms passed me
 +over to another, and without opposing any resistance
 +I permitted them to bind me by the middle to a tree.
 +They then gave me some boiled potatoes, which I ate
 +with the mechanical instinct that God grants to man
 +even in the midst of overwhelming thought.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The darkness had now come on, and my guards
 +took refuge in their huts, with the exception of half
 +a dozen who remained with me, lying before a large
 +fire that they had lighted to preserve themselves from
 +the cold night-air. In a few moments they were all
 +buried in profound sleep.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The state of physical weakness into which I had
 +fallen caused my thoughts to wander in a strange
 +manner. I thought of those calm and peaceful days
 +which, but a few weeks ago, I had passed with Marie,
 +without being able to foresee any future but one of
 +continued happiness. I compared them with the day
 +that had just expired, a day in which so many strange
 +events had occurred as almost to make me wonder
 +whether I was not labouring under some delusion.
 +I had been three times condemned to death, and still
 +<span class='pageno' title='237' id='Page_237'></span>
 +remained under sentence. I thought of my future,
 +bounded only by the morrow, and which offered
 +nothing but misfortune, and a death happily near at
 +hand. I seemed to be the victim of some terrible
 +nightmare. Again and again I asked myself if all
 +that had happened was real: was I really in the
 +power of the sanguinary Biassou, and was my Marie
 +lost to me for ever? Could this prisoner, guarded by
 +six savages, bound to a tree, and condemned to
 +certain death, really be me? In spite of all my
 +efforts to repel them, the thoughts of Marie would
 +force themselves upon me. In anguish I thought of
 +her fate, I strained my bonds in my efforts to break
 +them, and to fly to her succour, ever hoping that the
 +terrible dream would pass away; and that Heaven
 +would not permit all the horrors that I dreaded to
 +fall upon the head of her, who had been united to me
 +in a sacred bond. In my sad preoccupation the
 +thought of Pierrot returned to me, and rage nearly
 +took away my senses; the pulses of my temples
 +throbbed nearly to bursting. I hated him, I cursed
 +him; I despised myself for having ever had friendship
 +for Pierrot at the same time I had felt love for Marie;
 +and without caring to seek for the motive which had
 +urged him to cast himself into the waters of Grande-Riviere,
 +I wept because he had escaped me. He was
 +dead, and I was about to die, and all that I regretted
 +was that I had been unable to wreak my vengeance
 +upon him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>During the state of semi-somnolency into which
 +my weakness had plunged me, these thoughts passed
 +through my brain. I do not know how long it lasted,
 +<span class='pageno' title='238' id='Page_238'></span>
 +but I was aroused by a man’s voice singing distinctly,
 +but at some distance, the old Spanish song, “<span class='it'>Yo que
 +soy contrabandista</span>.” Quivering with emotion I opened
 +my eyes; all was dark around me, the negroes slept,
 +the fire was dying down. I could hear nothing more.
 +I fancied that the voice must have been a dream, and
 +my sleep-laden eyelids closed again. In a second I
 +opened them; again I heard the voice singing sadly
 +but much nearer, the same song—</p>
 +
 +<div class='blockquoter9'>
 +
 +<div class='literal-container' style=''><div class='literal'> <!-- rend=';' -->
 +<p class='line'>’Twas on the field of Ocanen</p>
 +<p class='line'>&ensp;&ensp;That I fell in their power,</p>
 +<p class='line'>To Cotadilla taken,</p>
 +<p class='line'>&ensp;&ensp;Unhappy from that hour.</p>
 +</div></div> <!-- end rend -->
 +
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This time it was not a charm—it <span class='it'>was</span> Pierrot’s
 +voice. A few moments elapsed, then it rose again
 +through the silence and the gloom, and once more I
 +heard the well-known air of “<span class='it'>Yo soy que contrabandista</span>.”
 +A dog ran eagerly to greet me, and rolled at my feet
 +in token of welcome; it was Rask! A tall negro
 +stood facing me, and the glimmer of the fire threw
 +his shadow, swelled to colossal proportions, upon the
 +sward; it was Pierrot!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The thirst for vengeance fired my brain; surprise
 +rendered me motionless and dumb. I was not asleep.
 +Could the dead return? If not a dream, it must be
 +an apparition. I turned from him with horror.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>When he saw me do this, his head sank upon his
 +breast.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Brother,” murmured he, “you promised that you
 +would never doubt me when you heard me sing that
 +<span class='pageno' title='239' id='Page_239'></span>
 +song. My brother, have you forgotten your promise?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Rage restored the power of speech to me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Monster,” exclaimed I, “do I see you at last!
 +Butcher, murderer of my uncle, ravisher of Marie,
 +dare you call me your brother? Do not venture to
 +approach me.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I forgot that I was too securely tied to make the
 +slightest movement, and glanced to my left side as
 +though to seek my sword.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>My intention did not escape him, and he continued
 +in a sorrowful tone of voice—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“No, I will not come near you—you are unhappy
 +and I pity you; whilst you have no pity for me, though
 +I am much more wretched than you are.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I shrugged my shoulders; he understood my feelings,
 +and in a half dreamy manner continued—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, you have lost much; but, believe me, I have
 +lost more than you have.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>But the sound of our conversation had aroused
 +the negro guard. Perceiving a stranger they leapt to
 +their feet, and seized their weapons; but as soon as
 +they recognized the intruder they uttered a cry of
 +surprise and joy, and cast themselves at his feet,
 +striking the ground with their foreheads.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>But the homage that the negroes rendered to
 +Pierrot, and the fondlings of Rask, made no impression
 +upon me at the moment. I was boiling over
 +with passion, and maddened at the bonds that
 +restrained me, and at length my fury found words.
 +“Oh, how unhappy I am!” I exclaimed, shedding
 +tears of rage. “I was grieving because I thought
 +that this wretch had committed suicide, and robbed
 +<span class='pageno' title='240' id='Page_240'></span>
 +me of my just revenge; and now he is here to mock
 +me, living and breathing under my very eyes, and
 +I am powerless to stab him to the heart. Is there
 +no one to free me from these accursed cords?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Pierrot turned to the negroes, who where still
 +prostrate before him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Comrades,” said he, “release the prisoner.”</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>He</span> was promptly obeyed. With the greatest
 +eagerness my guards cut asunder the ropes that
 +confined me. I rose up free, but I remained motionless,
 +for surprise rooted me to the spot.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“That is not all,” said Pierrot, and snatching a
 +dagger from one of the negroes, he handed it to me.
 +“You can now have your wish; Heaven would not
 +be pleased should I dispute your right to dispose of
 +my life. Three times you have preserved it. Strike,
 +it is yours, I say, and if you wish, strike!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>There was no sign of anger or of bitterness in his
 +face; he appeared resigned and mournful.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The very vengeance offered to me by the man with
 +whom I had so much longed to stand face to face,
 +prevented my seizing the opportunity. I felt that
 +all my hatred for Pierrot, all my love for Marie,
 +could not induce me to commit a cowardly murder;
 +besides, however damning appearances might be,
 +yet a voice from the depths of my heart warned me
 +that no criminal, no guilty man, would thus dare to
 +stand before me and brave my vengeance. Shall
 +<span class='pageno' title='241' id='Page_241'></span>
 +I confess it to you, there was a certain imperious
 +fascination about this extraordinary being which
 +conquered me in spite of myself; I pushed aside the
 +dagger he offered to me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Wretch,” cried I, “I wish to kill you in fair
 +fight, but I am no assassin. Defend yourself.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Defend myself,” replied he, in tones of astonishment,
 +“and against whom?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Against me!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He started back. “Against you! that is the only
 +thing in which I cannot obey you. Look at Rask
 +there—I could easily kill him, for he would let me
 +do it; but as for making him fight me, the thing
 +would be impossible, he would not understand me
 +if I told him to do so. I do not understand you; in
 +your case I am Rask.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>After a short silence, he added, “I see the gleam
 +of hate in your eyes, as you once saw it in mine. I
 +know that you have suffered much, that your uncle
 +has been murdered, your plantations burned, your
 +friends slaughtered—yes, they have plundered your
 +house, and devastated your inheritance; but it was
 +not I that did these things, it was my people.
 +Listen to me. I one day told you that your people had
 +done me much injury, you said that you must not be
 +blamed for the acts of others. What was my reply?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>His face grew brighter as he awaited my reply,
 +evidently expecting that I should embrace him; but
 +fixing an angry gaze upon him, I answered—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You disdain all responsibility as to the acts of
 +your people, but you say nothing about what you
 +have yourself done.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='242' id='Page_242'></span>
 +“What have I done?” asked he.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I stepped up close to him, and in a voice of
 +thunder I demanded, “Where is Marie? what
 +have you done with Marie?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At this question a cloud passed over his face; he
 +seemed momentarily embarrassed. At last he spoke.
 +“Maria!” said he, “yes; you are right—but too
 +many ears listen to us here.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>His embarrassment, the words “You are right,”
 +raised the hell of jealousy in my heart, yet still he
 +gazed upon me with a perfectly open countenance,
 +and in a voice trembling with emotion said, “Do
 +not suspect me, I implore you. Besides, I will tell
 +you everything; love me, as I love you, with perfect
 +trust.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He paused to mark the effect of his words, and
 +then added tenderly, “May I not again call you
 +brother?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>But I was a prey to my jealous feelings, and his
 +friendly words seemed to me but the deep machinations
 +of a hypocrite, and only served to exasperate
 +me more. “Dare you recall the time when you
 +did so, you monster of ingratitude?” I exclaimed.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He interrupted me, a tear shining in his eye:
 +“It is not I who am ungrateful.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Well then,” I continued, “tell me what you have
 +done with Marie?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Not here, not here,” answered he, “other ears
 +than ours listen to our words; besides, you would not
 +believe me, and time presses. The day has come,
 +and you must be removed from this. All is at an
 +end. Since you doubt me, far better would it have
 +<span class='pageno' title='243' id='Page_243'></span>
 +been for you to take the dagger and finish all; but
 +wait a little before you take what you call your
 +vengeance—I must first free you. Come with me to
 +Biassou.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>His manner, both in speaking and acting, concealed
 +a mystery which I could not understand. In
 +spite of all my prejudices against the man, his voice
 +always made my heart vibrate. In listening to him
 +a certain hidden power that he possessed subjugated
 +me. I found myself hesitating between vengeance
 +and pity, between the bitterest distrust and the
 +blindest confidence. I followed him.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XXXIX.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>We</span> left the camp of the negroes of Morne-Rouge.
 +I could not help thinking it strange to find myself
 +at perfect liberty amongst a horde of savages, in a
 +spot where the evening before each man had seemed
 +only too ready to shed my blood. Far from seeking
 +to bar our progress, both the negroes and the
 +mulattoes prostrated themselves on all sides, with
 +exclamations of surprise, joy, and respect. I was
 +ignorant what rank Pierrot held in the army of the
 +insurgents, but I remembered the influence that he
 +used to exercise over his companions in slavery, and
 +this appeared to me to account for the respect with
 +which he was now treated.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>On our arrival at the guard before the grotto, the
 +mulatto Candi advanced before us with threatening
 +gestures, demanding how we dared approach so
 +<span class='pageno' title='244' id='Page_244'></span>
 +near the general’s quarters; but when he came near
 +enough to recognize my conductor, he hurriedly
 +removed his gold-laced cap, as though terrified at his
 +own audacity, bowed to the ground, and at once
 +introduced us into Biassou’s presence, with a thousand
 +apologies of which Pierrot took no heed.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The respect with which the simple negro soldiers
 +had treated Pierrot excited my surprise very little,
 +but seeing Candi, one of the principal officers of the
 +army, humiliate himself thus before my uncle’s slave,
 +made me ask myself who this man could be whose
 +power was illimitable. How much more astonished
 +was I, then, upon being introduced into the presence
 +of Biassou, who was alone when we entered, and was
 +quietly enjoying his <span class='it'>calalou</span>. He started to his feet,
 +concealing disappointment and surprise under the
 +appearance of profound respect, bowed humbly to my
 +companion, and offered him his mahogany throne.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Pierrot declined it. “No, Jean Biassou,” said he,
 +“I have not come to take your place, but simply to
 +ask a favour at your hands.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Your Highness,” answered Biassou, redoubling
 +his obeisances, “you know well that all Jean Biassou
 +has is yours, and that you can dispose as freely of
 +all as you can of Jean Biassou himself.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I do not ask for so much,” replied Pierrot,
 +quickly; “all I ask is the life and liberty of this
 +prisoner,” and he pointed to me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>For a moment Biassou appeared embarrassed,
 +but he speedily recovered himself.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Your servant is in despair, your Highness, for
 +you ask of him, to his great regret, more than he can
 +<span class='pageno' title='245' id='Page_245'></span>
 +grant; he is not Jean Biassou’s prisoner, does not
 +belong to Jean Biassou, and has nothing to do with
 +Jean Biassou.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What do you mean?” asked Pierrot, in severe
 +tones, “by saying that he does not belong to you?
 +Does any one else hold authority here except you?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Alas, yes, your Highness.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Who is it?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“My army.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The sly and obsequious manner in which Biassou
 +eluded the frank and haughty questions of Pierrot,
 +showed, had it depended solely upon himself, he
 +would gladly have treated his visitor with far less
 +respect than he felt himself now compelled to do.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What!” exclaimed Pierrot, “your army; and do
 +not you command it?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Biassou, with every appearance of sincerity,
 +replied—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Does your Highness really think that we can
 +command men who are in insurrection because they
 +will not obey?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I cared too little for my life to break the silence
 +that I had imposed upon myself, else, having seen
 +the day before the despotic authority that Biassou
 +exercised over his men, I could have contradicted
 +his assertions, and laid bare his duplicity to Pierrot.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Well, if you have no authority over your men,
 +and if they are your masters, what reason can they
 +have for hating your prisoner?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Bouckmann has been killed by the white troops,”
 +answered Biassou, endeavouring to conceal his
 +sardonic smile under a mask of sorrow, “and my
 +<span class='pageno' title='246' id='Page_246'></span>
 +men are determined to avenge upon this white the
 +death of the chief of the Jamaica negroes. They
 +wish to show trophy against trophy, and desire that
 +the head of this young officer should serve as a
 +counterpoise to the head of Bouckmann in the scales
 +in which the good <span class='it'>Giu</span> weighs both parties.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Do you still continue to carry on this horrible
 +system of reprisals. Listen to me, Jean Biassou: it
 +is these cruelties that are the ruin of our just cause.
 +Prisoner as I was in the camp of the whites (from
 +which I have managed to escape), I had not heard of
 +the death of Bouckmann until you told me. It is
 +the just punishment of heaven for his crimes. I will
 +tell you another piece of news: Jeannot, the negro
 +chief who served as a guide to draw the white troops
 +into the ambush of Dompté-Mulâtre, Jeannot also is
 +dead. You know—do not interrupt me, Biassou—that
 +he rivalled you and Bouckmann in his atrocities; and
 +pay attention to this, it was not the thunderbolt of
 +heaven, nor the bullets of the whites, that struck
 +him—it was Jean François himself who ordered this
 +act of justice to be performed.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Biassou, who had listened with an air of gloomy
 +respect, uttered an exclamation of surprise. At this
 +moment Rigaud entered, bowed respectfully to
 +Pierrot, and whispered in Biassou’s ear.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The murmur of many voices was heard in the
 +camp.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” continued Pierrot, “Jean François, who
 +has no fault except a preposterous love of luxury and
 +show, whose carriage with its six horses takes him
 +every day to hear mass at the Grande-Riviere, Jean
 +<span class='pageno' title='247' id='Page_247'></span>
 +François himself has put a stop to the crimes of
 +Jeannot. In spite of the cowardly entreaties of the
 +brigand, who clung in despair to the knees of the
 +Priest of Marmalade, who attended him in his last
 +moments, he was shot beneath the very tree upon
 +which he used to hang his living victims upon iron
 +hooks. Think upon this, Biassou. Why these
 +massacres which provoke the whites to reprisals?
 +Why all these juggleries which only tend to excite
 +the passions of our unhappy comrades, already too
 +much exasperated? There is at Trou-Coffi a
 +mulatto impostor, called Romaine the Prophet, who
 +is in command of a fanatical band of negroes; he
 +profanes the holy sacrament of the mass, he pretends
 +that he is in direct communication with the Virgin,
 +and he urges on his men to murder and pillage in
 +the name of Marie.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>There was a more tender inflection in the voice of
 +Pierrot as he uttered this name than even religious
 +respect would have warranted, and I felt annoyed
 +and irritated at it.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“And you,” continued he, “you have in your camp
 +some Obi, I hear—some impostor like this Romaine
 +the Prophet. I well know that having to lead an
 +army composed of so many heterogeneous materials,
 +a common bond is necessary; but can it be found
 +nowhere save in ferocious fanaticism and ridiculous
 +superstition? Believe me, Biassou, the white men
 +are not so cruel as we are. I have seen many planters
 +protect the lives of their slaves. I am not ignorant
 +that in some cases it was not the life of a man, but a
 +sum of money that they desired to save, but at any
 +<span class='pageno' title='248' id='Page_248'></span>
 +rate their interest gave them the appearance of a
 +virtue. Do not let us be less merciful than they are,
 +for it is our interest to be so. Will our cause be
 +more holy and more just because we exterminate the
 +women, slaughter the children, and burn the colonists
 +in their own houses? These, however, are every-day
 +occurrences. Answer me, Biassou: must the
 +traces of our progress be always marked by a line of
 +blood and fire?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He ceased; the fire of his glance, the accent of his
 +voice, gave to his words a force of conviction and
 +authority which it is impossible for me to imitate.
 +Like a fox in the clutches of a lion, Biassou seemed
 +to seek for some means of escape from the power
 +that constrained him. Whilst he vainly sought for
 +a pretext, the chief of the negroes of Cayer, Rigaud,
 +who the evening before had calmly watched the
 +horrors that had been perpetrated in his presence,
 +seemed to be shocked at the picture that Pierrot
 +had drawn, and exclaimed with a hypocritical affectation
 +of grief—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Great heavens! how terrible is a nation when
 +roused to fury.”</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XL.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> confusion in the camp appeared to increase, to
 +the great uneasiness of Biassou. I heard afterwards
 +that it was caused by the negroes of Morne-Rouge,
 +who hurried from one end of the camp to the other,
 +announcing the return of my liberator, and declaring
 +<span class='pageno' title='249' id='Page_249'></span>
 +their intention of supporting him in whatever object
 +he had come to Biassou’s camp for. Rigaud had
 +informed the generalissimo of this, and it was the
 +fear of a fatal division in the camp that prompted
 +Biassou to make some sort of concession to the
 +wishes of Pierrot.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Your Highness,” remarked he, with an air of
 +injured innocence, “if we are hard on the whites,
 +you are equally severe upon us. You are wrong in
 +accusing us of being the cause of the torrent, for it
 +is the torrent that drags us away with it; but <span class='it'>que
 +podria hacer a hora</span> (“but what can I do at present”)
 +that will please you?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I have already told you, Señor Biassou,” answered
 +Pierrot; “let me take this prisoner away with me.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Biassou remained for a few moments silent, as
 +though in deep thought; then putting on an expression
 +of as great frankness as he was able, he
 +answered—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Your Highness, I wish to prove to you that I
 +have every wish to please you. Permit me to have
 +two words in private with the prisoner, and he shall
 +be free to follow you.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“If that is all you ask, I agree,” replied Pierrot.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>His eyes, which up to that moment had wandered
 +about in a distrustful manner, glistened with delight,
 +and he moved away a few paces to leave us to our
 +conversation.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Biassou drew me on one side into a retired part of
 +the cavern, and said in a low voice—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I can only spare your life upon the condition that
 +I proposed; are you ready to fulfil it?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='250' id='Page_250'></span>
 +He showed me the dispatch of Jean François; to
 +consent appeared to me too humiliating.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Never,” answered I, firmly.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Aha,” repeated he, with his sardonic chuckle,
 +“are you always as firm? You have great confidence,
 +then, in your protector. Do you know who he is?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I do,” answered I, quickly, “he is a monster, as
 +you are, only he is a greater hypocrite.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He started back in astonishment, seeking to read
 +in my glance if I spoke seriously.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What!” exclaimed he, “do you not know him
 +then?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>With a disdainful look, I replied—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I only know him as my uncle’s slave, and his
 +name is Pierrot.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Again Biassou smiled bitterly.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Aha, that indeed is strange; he asks for your life
 +and liberty, and you say that you only know him for
 +a monster like myself.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What matters that?” I answered; “if I do gain
 +a little liberty, it is not to save my own life, but to
 +take his.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What is that you are saying?” asked Biassou.
 +“And yet you seem to speak as you believe; I cannot
 +think that you would trifle with your life. There
 +is something beneath all this that I do not understand.
 +You are protected by a man that you hate;
 +he insists upon your life being spared, and you, are
 +longing to take his. But it matters little to me;
 +you desire a short spell of freedom—it is all that I
 +can give you. I will leave you free to follow him,
 +but swear to me by your honour, that you will return
 +<span class='pageno' title='251' id='Page_251'></span>
 +to me and reconstitute yourself my prisoner two
 +hours before the sun sets. You are a Frenchman,
 +and I will trust you.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>What shall I say, gentlemen. Life was a burden to
 +me, and I hated the idea of owing it to Pierrot, for
 +every circumstance pointed him out as a just object
 +of my hatred. I do not think for a moment that
 +Biassou (who did not easily permit his prey to escape
 +him) would allow me to go free except upon his own
 +conditions. All I desired was a few hours’ liberty
 +which I could devote to discovering the fate of my
 +beloved before my death. Biassou, relying upon my
 +honour as a Frenchman, would grant me these, and
 +without hesitation I pledged it.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Your Highness,” said Biassou, in obsequious
 +tones, “the white prisoner is at your disposal; you
 +can take him with you, for he is free to accompany
 +you wherever you wish.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Thanks, Biassou,” cried Pierrot, extending his
 +hand. “You have rendered me a service which
 +places me entirely at your disposal. Remain in
 +command of our brethren of Morne-Rouge until my
 +return.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then he turned towards me—I never saw so much
 +happiness in his eyes before.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Since you are free,” cried he, “come with me.”
 +And with a strange earnestness he drew me away
 +with him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Biassou looked after us with blank astonishment,
 +which was even perceptible through the respectful
 +leave that he took of my companion.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='252' id='Page_252'></span></p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XLI.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>I was</span> longing to be alone with Pierrot. His embarrassment
 +when I had questioned him as to the
 +fate of Marie, the ill-concealed tenderness with which
 +he had dared to pronounce her name, had made those
 +feelings of hatred and jealousy which had sprung
 +up in my heart take far deeper root than at the
 +time I saw him bearing away through the flames
 +of Fort Galifet, her whom I could scarcely call my
 +wife.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>What did I care for the generous indignation with
 +which he had reproved the cruelties of Biassou, the
 +trouble which he had taken to preserve my life, and
 +the curious manner which marked all his words and
 +actions. What cared I for the mystery that appeared
 +to envelop him, which brought him living before my
 +eyes, when I thought to have witnessed his death.
 +He proved to be a prisoner of the white troops when
 +I believed that he lay buried in the depths of Grande-Riviere—the
 +slave become a king, the prisoner a
 +liberator. Of all these incomprehensible things
 +one was clear—Marie had been carried off by him;
 +and I had this crime to punish, this outrage to
 +avenge.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>However strange were the events that had passed
 +under my eyes, they were not sufficient to shake my
 +determination, and I had waited with impatience for
 +the moment when I could compel my rival to explain
 +all. That moment had at last arrived.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>We had passed through crowds of negroes, who
 +<span class='pageno' title='253' id='Page_253'></span>
 +cast themselves on the ground as we pursued our
 +way, exclaiming in tones of surprise, “<span class='it'>Miraculo! ya
 +no esta prisonero!</span>” (“A miracle! he is no longer a
 +prisoner!”), but whether they referred to Pierrot or to
 +myself I neither knew nor cared. We had gained
 +the outskirts of the camp, and rocks and trees concealed
 +from our view the outposts of Biassou; Rask
 +in high good humour was running in front of us, and
 +Pierrot was following him with rapid strides, when I
 +stopped him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Listen to me,” cried I; “it is useless to go any
 +farther—the ears that you dreaded can no longer
 +listen to us. What have you done with Marie? tell
 +me!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Concentrated emotion made my voice tremble. He
 +gazed upon me kindly.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Always the same question!” said he.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, always,” returned I, furiously; “always. I
 +will put that question to you as you draw your last
 +breath, or as I utter my last sigh. Where is Marie?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Can nothing, then, drive away your doubts of my
 +loyalty? But you shall know all soon.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Soon, monster!” repeated I, “soon; it is now,
 +at this instant, that I want to know all. Where is
 +Marie? where is Marie? Answer, or stake your life
 +against mine. Defend yourself.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I have already told you,” answered he, sadly,
 +“that that is impossible; the stream will not struggle
 +against its source, and my life, which you have three
 +times saved, cannot contend against yours. Besides,
 +even if I wished it the thing is impossible; we have
 +but one dagger between us.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='254' id='Page_254'></span>
 +As he spoke, he drew the weapon from his girdle
 +and offered it to me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Take it,” said he.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I was beside myself with passion, I seized the
 +dagger and placed the point on his breast, he never
 +attempted to move.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Wretch,” cried I, “do not force me to murder
 +you; I will plunge this blade into your heart if you
 +do not at once tell me where my wife is.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He replied, in his calm way, “You are the master
 +to do as you like, but with clasped hands I implore
 +you to grant me one hour of life, and to follow me.
 +Can you doubt him who thrice has owed his life to
 +you, and whom you once called <span class='it'>brother</span>? Listen: if
 +in one hour from this time you still doubt me, you
 +shall be at perfect liberty to kill me. That will be
 +time enough; you see that I do not attempt to resist
 +you. I conjure you in the name of Maria—of
 +your wife,” he added slowly, as though the victim of
 +some painful recollection, “give me but another
 +hour, I beg of you, not for my sake, but for yours.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>There was so much pathos in his entreaties that
 +an inner feeling warned me to grant his request, and
 +I yielded to that secret ascendency which he exercised
 +over me, but which at that time I should have
 +blushed to have confessed.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Well,” said I, slowly, “I will grant you one
 +hour, and I am ready to follow you;” and as I spoke
 +I handed him his dagger.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“No,” answered he, “keep it; you still distrust
 +me, but let us lose no time.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='255' id='Page_255'></span></p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XLII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Again</span> we started. Rask, who, during our conversation,
 +had shown frequent signs of impatience to
 +renew his journey, bounded joyously before us. We
 +plunged into a virgin forest, and after half an hour’s
 +walking we came out on a grassy opening in the
 +wood. On one side was a waterfall dashing over
 +rugged rocks, whilst the primeval trees of the forest
 +surrounded it on all sides. Amongst the rocks was
 +a cave, the grey face of which was shrouded by a
 +mass of climbing plants. Rask ran towards it barking,
 +but at a sign from Pierrot he became silent, and
 +the latter taking me by the hand led me without a
 +word to the entrance of the cave.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A woman with her back towards the light was
 +seated on a mat: at the sound of our steps she turned——my
 +friends——it was Marie! She wore the
 +same white dress that she had done on the day of
 +our marriage, and the wreath of orange blossoms
 +was still on her head. She recognized me in a
 +moment, and with a cry of joy threw herself into my
 +arms. I was speechless with surprise and emotion.
 +At her cry an old woman carrying a child in her
 +arms hurried from an inner chamber formed in the
 +depth of the cave, she was Marie’s nurse, and she
 +carried my uncle’s youngest child.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Pierrot hastened to bring some water from the
 +neighbouring spring, and threw a few drops in
 +Marie’s face, who was overcome by emotion; she
 +speedily recovered, and opening her eyes, exclaimed—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='256' id='Page_256'></span>
 +“Leopold, my Leopold!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Marie,” cried I, and my words were stifled in a
 +kiss.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Not before me, for pity’s sake,” cried a voice, in
 +accents of agony.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>We looked round; it came from Pierrot. The
 +sight of our endearments appeared to inflict terrible
 +torture on him, his bosom heaved, a cold perspiration
 +bedewed his forehead, and every limb quivered.
 +Suddenly he hid his face in his hands, and fled from
 +the grotto repeating in tones of anguish—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Not before me! not before me!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Marie half raised herself in my arms, and following
 +his retreating form with her eyes, exclaimed—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Leopold, our happiness seems to trouble him;
 +can it be that he loves me?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The exclamation of the slave had showed that he
 +was my rival, but Marie’s speech proved that he was
 +my trusty friend.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Marie,” answered I, as the wildest happiness
 +mingled with the deepest regret filled my heart,
 +“Marie, were you ignorant of it?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Until this moment I was,” answered she, a blush
 +overspreading her beautiful features. “Does he
 +really love me, for he never let me know it.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I clasped her to my bosom, in all the madness of
 +happiness.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I have recovered both wife and friend; how happy
 +am I, but how guilty, for I doubted him!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What!” cried Marie, in surprise, “had you
 +doubts of Pierrot? oh, you have indeed been in fault.
 +Twice has he saved my life, and perhaps more than
 +<span class='pageno' title='257' id='Page_257'></span>
 +life,” she added, casting down her eyes; “without
 +him the alligator would have devoured me, without
 +him the negroes: it was Pierrot who rescued me
 +from their hands, when they were about to send me
 +to rejoin my unhappy father.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>She broke off her speech with a flood of tears.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“And why,” asked I, “did not Pierrot send you to
 +Cap, to your husband?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“He tried to do so,” replied she, “but it was
 +impossible, compelled as he was to conceal me both
 +from the whites and the blacks, his position was a
 +most difficult one; and then, too, he was ignorant
 +where you were. Some said that they had seen you
 +killed, but Pierrot assured me that this was not the
 +case, and a something convinced me that he spoke
 +the truth, for I felt that had you been dead, I should
 +have died at the same time.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Then, Pierrot brought you here?” asked I.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, my Leopold, this solitary cave is known
 +only to him. At the same time that he rescued me,
 +he saved all that remained alive of our family, my
 +little brother and my old nurse, and hid us here.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The place is very nice, and now that the war
 +has destroyed our house, and ruined us, I should
 +like to live here with you. Pierrot supplied all our
 +wants. He used to come very often; he wore a plume
 +of red feathers on his head. He used to console me
 +by talking of you, and always assured me that we
 +should meet again, but for the past three days I have
 +not seen him, and I was beginning to be uneasy,
 +when to-day he came back with you. He had been
 +seeking for you, had he not?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='258' id='Page_258'></span>
 +“Yes,” replied I.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“But if so, how can he be in love with me? Are
 +you sure of it?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Quite,” answered I, “it was he who was about
 +to stab me beneath your window, and spared me lest
 +it should afflict you; it was he who sang the love
 +songs at the pavilion by the river.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Then he is your rival,” exclaimed Marie, with
 +naïve surprise, “and the wicked man with the wild
 +marigolds is Pierrot; I can hardly believe that. He
 +was so respectful and humble to me, much more so
 +than when he was our slave. It is true that sometimes
 +he looked at me in a strange manner, but I
 +attributed his sadness to our misfortunes. If you
 +could only know with what tenderness he spoke of
 +you, my Leopold. His friendship made him speak
 +of you as much as my love did.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>These explanations of Marie enchanted and yet
 +grieved me. I felt how cruelly I had treated the
 +noble-hearted Pierrot, and I felt all the force of his
 +gentle reproach, “<span class='it'>It is not I who am ungrateful</span>.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At this instant Pierrot returned. His face was
 +dark and gloomy, and he looked like a martyr returning
 +from the place of torture, but yet retaining an
 +air of triumph.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He came towards me, and pointing to the dagger
 +in my belt, said—“The hour has passed!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Hour, what hour?” asked I.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The one you granted me; it was necessary for
 +me to have so much time allowed me in which to
 +bring you here. Then I conjured you to spare my
 +life, now I supplicate you to take it away.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='259' id='Page_259'></span>
 +The most tender feelings of the heart, love, gratitude,
 +and friendship, united themselves together to
 +torture me. Unable to say a word, but sobbing
 +bitterly, I cast myself at the feet of the slave. He
 +raised me up in haste.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What are you doing?” cried he.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I pay you the homage that is your due, but I am
 +no longer worthy of friendship such as yours; can
 +your friendship be pushed so far as to forgive me my
 +ingratitude?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>For a time his expression remained stern, he
 +appeared to be undergoing a violent mental contest.
 +He took a step towards me; then drew back, and
 +seemed on the point of speaking, but no words passed
 +his lips. The struggle was a short one, he opened
 +his arms to embrace me, saying—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“May I <span class='it'>now</span> call you brother?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>My only reply was to cast myself on his breast.
 +After a short pause, he added—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You were always kind, but misfortune had
 +rendered you unjust.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I have found my brother once again,” said I.
 +“I am unfortunate no longer, but I have been very
 +guilty.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Guilty, brother, I also have been guilty, and
 +more so than you; you are no longer unhappy, but I
 +shall be so for ever!”</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XLIII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> expression of pleasure which the renewal of our
 +friendship had traced on his features, faded away
 +<span class='pageno' title='260' id='Page_260'></span>
 +and an appearance of deep grief once more pervaded
 +them.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Listen,” said he, coldly; “my father was the
 +King of Kakongo. Each day he sat at the door of
 +his hut and dispensed justice amongst his subjects.
 +After every judgment, according to the custom of the
 +kings his ancestors, he drank a full goblet of palm
 +wine. We were happy and powerful. But the
 +Europeans came to our country; it was from them
 +that I learnt the accomplishments which you appeared
 +to be surprised at my possessing. Our
 +principal acquaintance amongst the Europeans was
 +a Spanish captain; he promised my father territories
 +far greater than those he now ruled over, treasure,
 +and white women; my father believed him, and
 +gathering his family together, followed him....
 +Brother, he sold us as slaves!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The breast of the negro rose and fell, as he strove
 +to restrain himself; his eyes shot forth sparks of fire;
 +and without seeming to know what he did, he broke
 +in his powerful grasp a fancy medlar tree that stood
 +beside him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The master of Kakongo in his turn had a master,
 +and his son toiled as a slave in the furrows of Saint
 +Domingo. They tore the young lion from his father,
 +that they might the more easily tame him; they
 +separated the wife from the husband, and the little
 +children from the mother who nursed them, and the
 +father who used to bathe them in the torrents of their
 +native land. In their place they found cruel masters
 +and a sleeping place shared with the dogs!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He was silent, though his lips moved as though he
 +<span class='pageno' title='261' id='Page_261'></span>
 +were still continuing his narrative; after a moment’s
 +pause he seized me roughly by the arm, and continued—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Brother, do you understand, I have been sold to
 +different masters like a beast of burden? Do you
 +remember the punishment of Ogé? it was on that
 +day that I saw my father after a long separation—<span class='it'>he
 +was on the wheel</span>!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I shuddered; he went on—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“My wife was outraged by white men, and she
 +died calling for revenge. Must I tell you I was guilty
 +towards her, for I loved another; but let that pass by.
 +All my people urged me to deliver and avenge them;
 +Rask brought me their messages, I could do nothing
 +for them, I was fast in your uncle’s prison. The day
 +upon which you obtained my release, I hurried off to
 +save my children from the power of a cruel master.
 +Upon the very day that I arrived, the last of the
 +grandchildren of the King of Kakongo had expired
 +under the blows of the white man; he had followed
 +the others!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He interrupted his recital, and coldly asked me:</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Brother, what would you have done?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This frightful tale froze me with horror. I replied
 +by a threatening gesture. He understood me, and
 +with a bitter smile he continued—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The slaves rose against their master, and punished
 +the murder of my children. They chose me for
 +their chief. You know the frightful excesses that
 +were perpetrated by the insurgents. I heard that
 +your uncle’s slaves were on the point of rising. I
 +arrived at Acul on the night upon which the insurrection
 +<span class='pageno' title='262' id='Page_262'></span>
 +broke out. You were away. Your uncle
 +had been murdered in his bed, and the negroes had
 +already set fire to the plantation. Not being able to
 +restrain them—for in destroying your uncle’s property
 +they thought that they were avenging my injuries—I
 +determined to save the survivors of his family. I
 +entered the fort by the breach that I had made. I
 +entrusted your wife’s nurse to a faithful negro. I had
 +more trouble in saving your Marie; she had hurried
 +to the burning portion of the fort to save the youngest
 +of her brothers, the sole survivor of the massacre.
 +The insurgents surrounded her, and were about to
 +kill her.... I burst upon them, and ordered them
 +to leave her to my vengeance; they obeyed me, and
 +retired. I took your wife in my arms, I entrusted
 +the child to Rask, and I bore them both away to
 +this cavern, of which I alone knew the existence and
 +the access. Brother, such was my crime.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>More than ever overwhelmed with gratitude and
 +remorse, I would again have thrown myself at his
 +feet, but he stopped me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Come,” said he, “take your wife, and let us
 +leave this, all of us.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>In wonder I asked him whither he wished to
 +conduct us.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“To the camp of the whites,” answered he. “This
 +retreat is no longer safe. To-morrow at break of
 +day the camp of Biassou will be attacked, and the
 +forest will assuredly be set on fire. Besides, I have
 +no time to lose. Ten lives are in jeopardy until my
 +return. We <span class='it'>can</span> hasten because you are free; we
 +<span class='it'>must</span> hasten because I am not.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='263' id='Page_263'></span>
 +These words increased my surprise, and I pressed
 +him for an explanation.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Have you not heard that Bug-Jargal is a
 +prisoner?” replied he, impatiently.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes; but what has Bug-Jargal to do with you?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>In his turn he seemed astonished, and then in a
 +grave voice he answered—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>I am Bug-Jargal.</span>”</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XLIV.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>I had</span> thought that nothing that related to this extraordinary
 +man could have surprised me. I had
 +experienced some feelings of astonishment in finding
 +the slave Pierrot transformed into an African King,
 +but my admiration reached its height, when from his
 +own confession I learned that he was the courageous,
 +and magnanimous Bug-Jargal, the chief of the insurgents
 +of Morne-Rouge; and I understood the
 +respectful demeanour shown by all the rebels, even
 +by Biassou, to Bug-Jargal, the King of Kakongo. He
 +did not notice the impression that his last words had
 +made upon me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“They told me,” continued he, “that you were a
 +prisoner in Biassou’s camp, and I hastened to
 +deliver you.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“But you told me just now that you too were a
 +prisoner.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He glanced inquisitively at me, as though seeking
 +my reason for putting this natural question.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Listen,” answered he. “This morning I was a
 +<span class='pageno' title='264' id='Page_264'></span>
 +prisoner in the hands of your friends, but I heard a
 +report that Biassou had announced his intention of
 +executing, before sunset to-day, a young prisoner
 +named Leopold d’Auverney. They doubled my
 +guards, and I was informed that my execution would
 +immediately follow yours, and that in the event of
 +escape, ten of my comrades would suffer in my stead.
 +So you see that I have no time to lose.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I still detained him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You made your escape then?” asked I.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“How else could I have been here? it was
 +necessary to save you. Did I not owe you my life?
 +Come, let us set out, we are an hour’s march from
 +the camp of the whites, and about the same distance
 +from that of Biassou. See the shadow of the cocoa-nut
 +trees are lengthening, and their round tops look
 +on the pass like the egg of the giant condor. In
 +three hours the sun will have set. Come, brother,
 +time waits for no man.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>In three hours the sun will have set!</span> These words
 +froze my blood, like an apparition from the tomb.
 +They recalled to my mind the fatal promise which
 +bound me to Biassou. Alas! in the rapture of
 +seeing Marie again, I had not thought of our approaching
 +eternal separation. I had been overwhelmed
 +with my happiness, a flood of joyful
 +emotions had swept away my memory, and in the
 +midst of my delight I had forgotten that the inexorable
 +finger of death was beckoning to me. But
 +the words of my friend recalled everything to my
 +mind. <span class='it'>In three hours the sun will have set!</span> It would
 +take an hour to reach Biassou’s camp. There could
 +<span class='pageno' title='265' id='Page_265'></span>
 +be no faltering with my duty. The villain had my
 +word, and it would never do to give him the chance
 +of despising what he seemed still to put trust in—the
 +word of a Frenchman; better far to die. The
 +alternative was a terrible one, and I confess that I
 +hesitated for a moment before I chose the right
 +course. Can you blame me, gentlemen?</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XLV.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>With</span> a deep sigh, I placed one hand in that of Bug-Jargal,
 +and the other in that of Marie, who gazed
 +with anxiety on the sadness that had overspread my
 +features.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Bug-Jargal,” said I, struggling with emotion, “I
 +entrust to you the only being in the world that I love
 +more than you—my Marie. Return to the camp
 +without me, for I may not follow you.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Great heavens!” exclaimed Marie, hardly able
 +to breathe from her terror and anxiety, “what new
 +misfortune is this?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Bug-Jargal trembled, and a look of mingled sorrow
 +and surprise passed over his face.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Brother, what is this that you say?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The terror that had seized upon Marie at the
 +thought of the coming misfortune which her love for
 +me had almost caused her to divine, made me determined
 +to spare her the dreadful truth for the moment.
 +I placed my mouth to Bug-Jargal’s ear, and whispered
 +in hurried accents: “I am a prisoner. I swore to
 +Biassou that two hours before sunset I would once
 +<span class='pageno' title='266' id='Page_266'></span>
 +more place myself in his hands; in fact, I have
 +sworn to return to my death!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Filled with rage, in a loud voice he exclaimed:</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The monster! This then was his motive for a
 +secret interview with you—it was to bind you with
 +this fatal promise. I ought to have distrusted the
 +wretch. Why did I not foresee that there must be
 +some treachery lurking in the request, for he is a
 +mulatto, not a black.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What is this—what treachery? what promise?”
 +said Marie, in an agony of terror. “And who is
 +Biassou?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Silence, silence,” repeated I, in a low voice to
 +Bug-Jargal; “do not let us alarm Marie.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Good,” answered he; “but why did you give
 +such a pledge, how could you consent?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I thought that you had deceived me, and that
 +Marie was lost to me for ever. What was life to me
 +then?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“But a simple promise cannot bind you to a brigand
 +like that.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I gave my word of honour.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He did not seem to understand me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Your word of honour,” repeated he; “but what
 +is that? You did not drink out of the same cup;
 +you have not broken a ring together, or a branch of
 +the red-blossomed maple?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“No, we have done none of these things.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Well, then, what binds you to him?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“My honour!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I cannot understand you; nothing pledges you
 +to Biassou; come with us?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='267' id='Page_267'></span>
 +“I cannot, my brother, for I am bound by my
 +promise.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“No, you are not bound,” cried he, angrily.
 +“Sister, add your prayers to mine, and entreat your
 +husband not to leave you. He wishes to return to
 +the negro camp from which I rescued him, on the
 +plea that he has promised to place his life in Biassou’s
 +hands.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What have you done?” cried I.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>It was too late to stay the effects of the generous
 +impulse that had prompted him to endeavour to save
 +the life of his rival by the help of her he loved.
 +Marie cast herself into my arms with a cry of anguish,
 +her hands clasped my neck, and she hung upon my
 +breast, speechless and breathless.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, my Leopold, what does he say?” murmured
 +she, at last. “Is he not deceiving me? It is not
 +immediately after our reunion that you must quit me
 +again. Answer me quickly or I shall die. You have
 +no right to throw away your life, for you have given
 +it to me. You would not leave me, never to see me
 +again.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Marie,” answered I, “we shall meet again, but it
 +will be in another place.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“In another place! Where?” she asked, in faltering
 +accents.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“In heaven,” I answered; for to this angel I could
 +not lie.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Again she fainted, but this time it was from grief.
 +I raised her up, and placed her in the arms of Bug-Jargal,
 +whose eyes were full of tears.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Nothing can keep you back, then,” said he; “I
 +<span class='pageno' title='268' id='Page_268'></span>
 +will add nothing to my entreaties, this sight ought
 +to be enough. How can you resist Marie? For one
 +word like she has spoken I would have sacrificed
 +the world, and you cannot even give up death for
 +her.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Honour binds me,” answered I, sadly. “Farewell,
 +Bug-Jargal, farewell, brother; I leave her to
 +you.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He grasped my hand, overwhelmed with grief, and
 +appeared hardly to understand me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Brother,” said he, “in the camp of the whites
 +there are some of your relations, I will give her over
 +to them; for my part I cannot accept your legacy.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He pointed to a rocky crag which towered high
 +above the adjacent country.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Do you see that rock?” asked he, “when the
 +signal of your death shall float from it, it will
 +promptly be answered by the volley that announces
 +mine.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Hardly understanding his last words, I embraced
 +him, pressed a last kiss upon the pale lips of Marie,
 +who was slowly recovering under the attentions of
 +her nurse, and fled precipitately, fearing that another
 +look or word would shake my resolution.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XLVI.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>I fled</span> away, and plunged into the depths of the
 +forest, following the tracks that we had left but a
 +short time before, and not daring to cast a last glance
 +behind me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='269' id='Page_269'></span>
 +To stifle the grief which oppressed my heart, I
 +dashed, without a moment’s pause, through the
 +thickets, past hill and plain, until I reached the
 +crest of a rock from which I could see the camp
 +of Biassou, with its lines of waggons and huts
 +swarming with life, and looking in the distance like
 +a vast ant-hill.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then I halted, for I felt that I had reached the
 +end of my journey, and my life at the same time.
 +Fatigue and emotion had weakened my physical
 +powers, and I leaned against a tree to save myself
 +from falling, and allowed my eyes to wander over
 +the plain, which was to be my place of execution.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Up to this moment I had imagined that I had
 +drained the cup of bitterness and gall to the dregs,
 +but I had not until then tasted the most cruel of all
 +misfortunes, that of being constrained by powerful
 +moral force to voluntarily renounce life when it appeared
 +most sweet. Some hours before I cared not
 +for the world; extreme despair is a simulation of
 +death which makes the reality more earnestly
 +desired.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Marie had been restored to me, my dead happiness
 +had been resuscitated, my past had become my future,
 +and all my overshadowed hopes had beamed forth
 +more gloriously than ever, and again had a new life,
 +a life of youth, and love, and enchantment, showed
 +gloriously upon the horizon. I was ready to enter
 +upon this life, everything invited me to it; no material
 +obstacle, no hindrance, was apparent; I was free, I
 +was happy, and yet—I was about to die. I had made
 +but one step into paradise and a hidden duty compelled
 +<span class='pageno' title='270' id='Page_270'></span>
 +me to retrace it, and to enter upon a path the
 +goal of which was Death!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Death has but few terrors for the crushed and
 +broken spirit, but how heavy and icy is his hand
 +when it grasps the heart which has just begun to
 +live and revel in the joys of life. I felt that I had
 +emerged from the tomb, and had for a moment
 +enjoyed the greatest delights of life, love, friendship,
 +and liberty, and now the door of the sepulchre was
 +again opened, and an unseen force compelled me
 +once more to enter it for ever.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XLVII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>When</span> the first bitter pang of grief had passed, a
 +kind of fury took possession of me, and I entered
 +the valley with a rapid step, for I felt the necessity
 +of shortening the period of suspense. When I presented
 +myself at the negro outpost the sergeant in
 +command at first refused to permit me to pass. It
 +seemed strange that I should have had to have recourse
 +to entreaties to enable me to effect my object.
 +At last two of them seized me by the arms and led
 +me into Biassou’s presence.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>As I entered the grotto he was engaged in examining
 +the springs of various instruments of torture
 +with which he was surrounded. At the noise my
 +guard made in introducing me he turned his head,
 +but my presence did not seem to surprise him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Do you see these?” asked he, displaying the
 +horrible engines which lay before him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='271' id='Page_271'></span>
 +I remained calm and impassive, for I knew the
 +cruel nature of the <span class='it'>hero of humanity</span>, and I was
 +determined to endure to the end without blenching.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Leogri was lucky in being only hung, was he
 +not?” asked he, with his sardonic sneer.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I gazed upon him with cold disdain, but I made
 +no reply.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Tell his reverence the chaplain that the prisoner
 +has returned,” said he to an aide-de-camp.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>During the absence of the negro, we both remained
 +silent, but I could see that he watched me narrowly.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Just then Rigaud entered, he seemed agitated, and
 +whispered a few words to the general.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Summon the chiefs of the different bands,” said
 +Biassou, calmly.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A quarter of an hour afterwards, the different
 +chiefs in their strange equipments, were assembled
 +in the grotto. Biassou rose.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Listen to me, friends and comrades, the whites
 +will attack us here at daybreak, our position is a bad
 +one, and we must quit it. At sunset we will march
 +to the Spanish frontier; Macaya, you and your
 +negroes will form the advanced guards; Padrejan,
 +see that the guns taken at Pralato are spiked, we
 +cannot take them into the mountains; the brave men
 +of Croix-des-Bouquets will follow Macaya; Toussaint
 +will come next with the blacks from Léogane and
 +Trose. If the <span class='it'>griots</span> or the <span class='it'>griotes</span> make any disturbance,
 +I will hand them over to the executioner of
 +the army. Lieutenant-Colonel Cloud will distribute
 +the English muskets that were disembarked at Cape
 +Cabron, and will lead the half-breeds through the
 +<span class='pageno' title='272' id='Page_272'></span>
 +byways of the Vista. Slaughter any prisoners that
 +may remain, notch the bullets, and poison the
 +arrows. Let three tons of arsenic be thrown into
 +the wells; the colonists will take it for sugar, and
 +drink without distrust. Block up the roads to the
 +plain with rocks, line the hedges with marksmen,
 +and set fire to the forest. Rigaud, you will remain
 +with me; Candi, summon my body-guard. The
 +negroes of Morne-Rouge will form the rear-guard,
 +and will not evacuate the camp until sunrise.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He leaned over to Rigaud, and whispered
 +hoarsely—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“They are Bug-Jargal’s men; if they are killed, all
 +the better. ‘Muerta la tropa, muerte el gefe!’ (‘If the
 +men die, the chief will die.’) Go, my brethren,” he
 +added, rising, “you will receive instructions from
 +Candi.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The chiefs left the grotto.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“General,” remarked Rigaud, “we ought to send
 +that dispatch of Jean François; affairs are going
 +badly, and it would stop the advance of the whites.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Biassou drew it hastily from his pocket.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I agree with you, but there are so many faults,
 +both in grammar and spelling, that they will laugh
 +at it.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He presented the paper to me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“For the last time, will you save your life? My
 +kindness gives you a last chance. Help me to
 +correct this letter, and to re-write it in proper official
 +style.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I shook my head.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Do you mean no?” asked he.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='273' id='Page_273'></span>
 +“I do,” I replied.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Reflect,” he answered, with a sinister glance at
 +the instruments of torture.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It is because I have reflected that I refuse,”
 +replied I. “You are alarmed for the safety of
 +yourself and your men, and you count upon this
 +letter to delay the just vengeance of the whites. I
 +do not desire to retain a life which may perhaps
 +have saved yours. Let my execution commence.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Ha, boy,” exclaimed Biassou, touching the
 +instruments of torture with his foot, “you are
 +growing familiar with these, are you? I am sorry,
 +but I have not the time to try them on you. Our
 +position is a dangerous one, and we must get out of
 +it as soon as we can. And so you refuse to act as
 +my secretary? Well, you are right, for it would not
 +after all have saved your miserable life, which, by the
 +way, I have promised to his reverence my chaplain.
 +Do you think that I would permit any one to live
 +who holds the secrets of Biassou?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He turned to the Obi, who just then entered.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Good father, is your guard ready?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The latter made a sign in the affirmative.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Have you taken it from amongst the negroes of
 +Morne-Rouge? for they are the only ones who are not
 +occupied in preparations for departure.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Again the Obi bowed his head.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then Biassou pointed out to me the black flag
 +which I had before remarked in a corner of the
 +grotto.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“That will show your friends when the time
 +comes to give your place to your lieutenant. But I
 +<span class='pageno' title='274' id='Page_274'></span>
 +have no more time to lose, I must be off. By the
 +way, you have been for a little excursion; how did you
 +like the neighbourhood?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I noticed that there were enough trees upon
 +which to hang you and all your band.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Ah,” retorted he, with his hideous laugh, “there
 +is one place that you have not seen, but with which
 +the good father will make you acquainted. Adieu,
 +my young captain, and give my compliments to
 +Leogri.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He bade me farewell with a chuckle that reminded
 +me of the hiss of the rattlesnake, and turned his back
 +as the negroes dragged me away.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The veiled Obi followed us, his rosary in his hand.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XLVIII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>I walked</span> between my guards without offering any
 +resistance, which would indeed have been hopeless;
 +we ascended the shoulder of a hill on the western
 +side of the plain, and then my escort sat down for a
 +brief period of repose. As we did so I cast a last
 +lingering look at the setting sun which would never
 +rise again for me on this earth.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>My guards rose to their feet, and I followed their
 +example, and we descended into a little dell, the
 +beauty of which under any other circumstances
 +would have filled me with admiration. A mountain
 +stream ran through the bottom of the dell, which by
 +its refreshing coolness produced a thick and luxuriant
 +growth of vegetation, and fell into one of those dark
 +<span class='pageno' title='275' id='Page_275'></span>
 +blue lakes with which the hills of St. Domingo
 +abound. How often in happier days have I sat and
 +dreamed on the borders of these beautiful lakes in
 +the twilight hour, when beneath the influence of the
 +moon their deep azure changed into a sheet of silver,
 +or when the reflections of the stars sowed the surface
 +with a thousand golden spangles! How lovely this
 +valley appeared to me! There were magnificent
 +plane-trees of gigantic growth, closely grown thickets
 +of <span class='it'>mauritias</span>, a kind of palm, which allows no other
 +vegetation to flourish beneath its shade, date-trees,
 +and magnolias with the goblet-shaped flowers, the
 +tall catalpa, with its polished and exquisitely chiselled
 +blossoms, standing out in relief against the golden
 +buds of the ebony-trees. The Canadian maple
 +mingled its yellow flowers with the blue aureolas of
 +that species of the wild honeysuckle which the
 +negroes call <span class='it'>coali</span>. Thick curtains of luxurious
 +creepers concealed the bare sides of the rocks, whilst
 +from the virgin soil rose a soft perfume, such as the
 +first man may have inhaled amidst Eden’s groves.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>We continued our way along a footpath traced on
 +the brink of the torrent. I was surprised to notice
 +that this path closed abruptly at the foot of a tall peak,
 +in which was a natural archway, from which flowed a
 +rapid torrent.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A dull roar of falling waters, and an impetuous
 +wind issued from this natural tunnel. The negroes
 +who escorted me took a path to the left which led into
 +a cavern and seemed to be the bed of a torrent that
 +had long been dried up. Overhead I could see the
 +rugged roof, half hidden by masses of vegetation, and
 +<span class='pageno' title='276' id='Page_276'></span>
 +the same sound of falling waters filled the whole of
 +the vault. As I took the first step into the cavern,
 +the Obi came to my side, and whispered in a hoarse
 +voice, “Listen to what I have to predict: one of us
 +two only shall leave by this path and issue again from
 +the entrance of the cave.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I disdained to make any reply, and we advanced
 +further into the gloom.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The noise became louder, and drowned the sound
 +of our footfalls. I fancied that there must be a
 +waterfall near, and I was not deceived.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>After moving through the darkness for nearly ten
 +minutes, we found ourselves on a kind of internal
 +platform caused by the central formation of the
 +mountain. The larger portion of this platform, which
 +was of a semicircular shape, was inundated by a
 +torrent which burst from the interior of the mountain
 +with a terrible din. Above this subterranean hall the
 +roof rose into the shape of a dome, covered with moss
 +of a yellowish hue. A large opening was formed in
 +the dome through which the daylight penetrated, and
 +the sides of the crevice were fringed with green trees,
 +gilded just now by the last rays of the setting sun.
 +At the northern extremity of the platform the torrent
 +fell with a frightful noise into a deep abyss, over which
 +appeared to float, without being able to illuminate its
 +depths, a feeble portion of the light which came
 +through the aperture in the roof. Over this terrible
 +precipice hung the trunk of an old tree whose top-most
 +branches were filled with the foam of the
 +waterfall, and whose knotty roots pierced through the
 +rock two or three feet below the brink.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='277' id='Page_277'></span>
 +This tree, whose top and roots were both swept by
 +the torrent, hung over the abyss like a skeleton arm,
 +and was so destitute of foliage that I could not
 +distinguish its species. It had a strange and weird
 +appearance; the humidity which saturated its roots
 +prevented it from dying, whilst the force of the
 +cataract tore off its new shoots, and only left it with
 +the branches that had strength to resist the force of
 +the water.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER XLIX.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>In</span> this terrible spot the negroes came to a halt, and
 +I knew that my hour had come.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>It was in this abyss, then, that was to be sunk all
 +my hopes in this world. The image of the happiness
 +which but a few hours before I had voluntarily
 +renounced, brought to my heart a feeling of regret,
 +almost one of remorse.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>To pray for mercy was unworthy of me, but I
 +could not refrain from giving utterance to my regrets.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Friends,” said I to the negroes who surrounded
 +me, “it is a sad thing to die at twenty years of age,
 +full of life and strength, when one is loved by one
 +whom in your turn you adore, and you leave behind
 +you eyes that will even weep for your untimely end.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A mocking burst of laughter hailed my expression
 +of regret. It came from the little Obi. This species
 +of evil spirit, this living mystery, approaches me
 +roughly.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Ha, ha, ha! you regret life then, <span class='it'>Labadosca Dios</span>.
 +<span class='pageno' title='278' id='Page_278'></span>
 +My only fear was that death would have no terrors for
 +you.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>It was the same voice, the same laugh that had so
 +often before baffled my conjectures.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Wretch!” exclaimed I, “who <span class='it'>are</span> you?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You are going to learn,” replied he, in a voice of
 +concentrated passion; and thrusting aside the silver
 +sun that half concealed his brown chest, he exclaimed,
 +“Look!” I bent forward.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Two names were written in white letters on the
 +hairy chest of the Obi, showing but too clearly the
 +hideous and ineffaceable brand of the heated iron.
 +One of these names was <span class='it'>Effingham</span>, the other was that
 +of my uncle and myself, <span class='it'>D’Auverney</span>!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I was struck dumb with surprise.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Well, Leopold d’Auverney,” asked the Obi, “does
 +not your name tell you mine?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“No,” answered I, astonished to hear the man
 +name me, and seeking to recall to my mind my
 +thoughts. “These two names were only to be found
 +thus united upon the chest of my uncle’s fool. But
 +the poor dwarf is dead, and besides that, he was
 +devotedly attached to us. You cannot be Habibrah.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“No other,” shrieked he, and casting aside the
 +blood-stained cap, he raised his veil and showed me
 +the hideous features of the household fool; but a threatening
 +and sinister expression had usurped the half-imbecile
 +smile which was formerly eternally imprinted
 +on his features.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Great God!” exclaimed I, overwhelmed with
 +surprise, “do all the dead, then, come back to life!
 +It is Habibrah, my uncle’s fool.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='279' id='Page_279'></span>
 +“His fool—and also his murderer.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I recoiled from him in horror.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“His murderer, wretch—was it thus that you
 +repaid his kindness?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He interrupted me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“His kindness! rather say his insults.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What!” I again cried, “was it you, villain, who
 +struck the fatal blow?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It was,” he replied, with a terrible expression
 +upon his face. “I plunged my knife so deeply into
 +his heart that he had hardly time to cast aside sleep
 +before death claimed him. He cried out feebly,
 +‘Habibrah, come to me,’ <span class='it'>but I was with him</span> already.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The cold-blooded manner in which he narrated the
 +murder disgusted me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Wretch! cowardly assassin! You forgot, then,
 +all his kindness, that you ate at his table, and slept
 +at the foot of his bed——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Like a dog,” interrupted Habibrah, roughly,
 +“<span class='it'>como un perro</span>. I thought too much of what you
 +call his kindness, but which I looked upon as insults.
 +I took vengeance upon him, and I will do the same
 +to you. Listen: do you think that because I am a
 +mulatto and a deformed dwarf that I am not a man?
 +Ah, I have a soul stronger, deeper, and bolder than
 +the one that I am about to set free from your girlish
 +frame. I was given to your uncle as if I had been a
 +pet monkey. I was his butt, I amused him, whilst he
 +despised me. He loved me, do you say—yes, forsooth,
 +I had a place in his heart between his dog and his
 +parrot, but I found a better place there with my
 +dagger.” I shuddered.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='280' id='Page_280'></span>
 +“Yes,” continued the dwarf, “it was I, I that did
 +it all. Look me well in the face, Leopold d’Auverney;
 +you have often laughed at me, now you shall tremble
 +before me. And you dare to speak of your uncle’s
 +liking for me, a liking that carried degradation with
 +it. If I entered the room a shout of contemptuous
 +laughter was my greeting; my appearance, my deformities,
 +my features, my costume—all furnished
 +food for laughter to your accursed uncle and his
 +accursed friends, whilst I was not allowed to remain
 +silent, it was necessary for me to join in the laughter
 +that was levelled at me; I foam with rage whilst I
 +think of it.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Answer me: do you think that after such humiliations
 +I could feel anything but the deadliest hatred
 +for the creature that inflicted them upon me? Do
 +you not think that they were a thousand times harder
 +to endure than the toil in the burning sun, the fetters,
 +and the whip of the driver, which were the lot of the
 +other slaves? Do you not think that they would
 +cause ardent, implacable, and eternal hatred to
 +spring up in the heart of man as lasting as the
 +accursed brand which degrades my chest? Has not
 +the vengeance that I have taken for my sufferings
 +been short and insufficient. Why could I not make
 +my tyrant suffer but a small portion of what I endured
 +for so many years? Why could he not before
 +his death know the bitterness of wounded pride, and
 +feel what burning traces tears of shame leave upon
 +a face condemned to wear a perpetual smile? Alas!
 +it is too hard to have waited so long for the hour of
 +vengeance, and then only to find it in a dagger thrust!
 +<span class='pageno' title='281' id='Page_281'></span>
 +Had he but only known the hand that struck him it
 +would have been something; but I was too eager to
 +hear his dying groan, and I drove the knife too
 +quickly home; he died without having recognized
 +me, and my eagerness baulked my vengeance. This
 +time at least, however, it shall be more complete.
 +You see me, do you not? though in point of fact you
 +may be unable to recognize me in my new character.
 +You have always been in the habit of seeing me
 +laughing and joyous, but now nothing prevents me
 +from letting my true nature appear on my face, and I
 +do not greatly resemble my former self. You only
 +knew my mask; look upon my real face!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At that moment his appearance was truly terrible.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Monster,” exclaimed I, “you deceive yourself;
 +there is more of buffoonery than heroism in your face
 +even now, and nothing in your heart but cruelty.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Do not speak of cruelty,” retorted he, “think of
 +your uncle——”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Wretch,” returned I, “if he were cruel it was at
 +your instigation. You, to pretend to pity the position
 +of the poor slaves—why, then, did you exert all your
 +influence to make their master treat them less
 +harshly? Why did you never intercede in their
 +favour?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I would not have done so for the world. Would I
 +ever attempt to hinder a white man from blackening
 +his soul by an act of cruelty? No, no, I urged him
 +to inflict more and more punishment upon them, so
 +as to hurry on the revolt, and so draw down a surer
 +vengeance upon the heads of our oppressors. In
 +seeming to injure my brethren I was serving them.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='282' id='Page_282'></span>
 +I was thunderstruck at such a cunning act of
 +diplomacy carried out by such a man.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Well,” continued the dwarf, “do you believe
 +now that I had the brain to conceive and the hand
 +to execute? What do you think of Habibrah the
 +buffoon? what do you think of your uncle’s fool?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Finish what you have begun so well,” replied I.
 +“Let me die, but let there be no more delay.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“And suppose I wish for delay? Suppose that it
 +does my heart good to watch you in the agonies of
 +suspense? You see Biassou owed me my share in
 +the last plunder. When I saw you in our camp I
 +asked for your life as my share, and he granted it
 +willingly, and now you are mine; I am amusing myself
 +with you. Soon you will follow the stream of
 +the cataract into the abyss beneath; but before doing
 +so let me tell you that I have discovered the spot
 +where your wife is concealed, and it was I that
 +advised Biassou to set the forest on fire; and the
 +work, I imagine, is already begun. Thus your
 +family will be swept from the face of the earth.
 +Your uncle fell by steel, you will perish by water,
 +and your Marie by fire!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Villain! villain!” I exclaimed, and I made an
 +effort to seize him by the throat, but a wave of his
 +hand summoned my guards.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Bind him!” cried he; “he precipitates his hour
 +of doom!” In dead silence the negroes commenced
 +to bind me with the cords that they had carried with
 +them. Suddenly I fancied that I heard the distant
 +barking of a dog, but this sound might be only an
 +illusion caused by the noise of the cascade.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='283' id='Page_283'></span>
 +The negroes had finished binding me, and placed
 +me on the brink of the abyss into which I was so
 +soon to be hurled.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The dwarf with folded arms gazed upon the scene
 +with a sinister expression of joy.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I lifted my eyes to the opening in the roof so as to
 +avoid the triumphant expression of malice painted on
 +his countenance, and to take one last look at the
 +blue sky. At that instant the barking was more
 +distinctly heard, and the enormous head of Rask
 +appeared at the opening.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I trembled; the dwarf exclaimed, “Finish with
 +him!” and the negroes, who had not noticed the dog,
 +raised me in their arms to hurl me into the hell of
 +waters which roared and foamed beneath me.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER L.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>“Comrades!”</span> cried a voice of thunder.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>All looked at the spot from whence the sound proceeded:
 +Bug-Jargal was standing on the edge of the
 +opening, a crimson plume floating on his head.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Comrades,” repeated he, “stay your hands!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The negroes prostrated themselves upon the earth
 +in token of submission.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I am Bug-Jargal,” continued he.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The negroes struck the earth with their heads,
 +uttering cries the meaning of which I could not
 +comprehend.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Unbind the prisoner,” commanded the chief.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>But now the dwarf appeared to recover from the
 +<span class='pageno' title='284' id='Page_284'></span>
 +stupor into which the sudden appearance of Bug-Jargal
 +had thrown him, and seized by the arm the
 +negro who was preparing to cut the cords that bound
 +me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What is the meaning of this? What are you
 +doing?” cried he.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then, raising his voice, he addressed Bug-Jargal:
 +“Chief of Morne-Rouge,” cried he, “what are you
 +doing here?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I have come to command my own men,” was
 +the reply.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” answered the dwarf, in tones of concentrated
 +passion, “these negroes do certainly belong to
 +your band; but,” added he, raising his voice again,
 +“by what right do you interfere with my prisoner?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The chief answered, “I am Bug-Jargal;” and
 +again the negroes struck the ground with their
 +foreheads.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Bug-Jargal,” continued Habibrah, “cannot contravene
 +the orders of Biassou; this white man was
 +given to me by Biassou; I desire his death, and die
 +he shall. Obey me,” he added, turning to the
 +negroes, “and hurl him into the abyss.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At the well-known voice of the Obi the negroes
 +rose to their feet and took a step towards me.
 +I thought all was lost.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Unbind the prisoner!” cried Bug-Jargal again.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>In an instant I was free. My surprise was equalled
 +by the fury of the Obi. He attempted to throw
 +himself upon me. The negroes interfered; then he
 +burst out into imprecations and threats.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Demonios! rabia! inferno de mi alma!’ How,
 +<span class='pageno' title='285' id='Page_285'></span>
 +wretches, you refuse to obey me! Do you not recognize
 +my voice! Why did I lose time in talking
 +to this accursed one? I ought to have had him hurled
 +without delay to the fishes of the gulf. By wishing
 +to make my vengeance more complete I have lost
 +it all together. <span class='it'>Orabia de Satan.</span> Listen to me:
 +if you do not obey me, and hurl him into the abyss,
 +I will curse you; your hair shall grow white, the
 +mosquitoes and sandflies shall eat you up alive,
 +your legs and your arms shall bend like reeds, your
 +breath shall burn your throat like red hot-sand, you
 +shall die young, and after your death your spirits
 +shall be compelled to turn a millstone as big as a
 +mountain, in the moon where it is always cold.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The scene was a strange one. The only one of
 +my colour, in a damp and gloomy cavern surrounded
 +by negroes with the aspect of demons, balanced as
 +it were upon the edge of a bottomless gulf, and
 +every now and then threatened by a deformed dwarf,
 +by a hideous sorcerer upon whose striped garments
 +and pointed cap the fading light shone faintly, yet
 +protected by a tall negro who was standing at the
 +only point from which daylight could be seen, it
 +appeared to me that I was at the gates of hell,
 +awaiting the conflict between my good and evil angels,
 +to result in the salvation or the destruction of my
 +soul. The negroes appeared to be terrified at the
 +threats of the Obi, and he endeavoured to profit by
 +their indecision.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I desire the death of the white man, and he <span class='it'>shall</span>
 +die; obey me.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Bug-Jargal replied solemnly, “He shall live; I
 +<span class='pageno' title='286' id='Page_286'></span>
 +am Bug-Jargal, my father was the King of Kakongo,
 +who dispensed justice at the gate of his palace.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Again the negroes cast themselves upon the
 +ground.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The chief continued.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Brethren, go and tell Biassou not to unfurl the
 +black banner upon the mountain-top which should
 +announce to the whites the signal of this man’s
 +death, for he was the saviour of Bug-Jargal’s life,
 +and Bug-Jargal wills that he should live.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>They rose up. Bug-Jargal threw his red plume
 +on the ground before them. The chief of the guard
 +picked it up with every show of respect, and they
 +left the cavern without a word; whilst the Obi, with
 +a glance of rage, followed them down the subterranean
 +avenue.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I will not attempt to describe my feelings at that
 +moment. I fixed my eyes, wet with tears, upon
 +Pierrot, who gazed upon me with a singular expression
 +of love and tenderness. “God be praised,”
 +said he, “you are saved. Brother, go back by the
 +road by which you entered, you will meet me again
 +in the valley.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He waved his hand to me and disappeared from
 +my sight.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER LI.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Eager</span> to arrive at the appointed meeting-place, and
 +to learn by what fortunate means my saviour had
 +been enabled to make his appearance at so opportune
 +a moment, I prepared to leave the cavern in which
 +<span class='pageno' title='287' id='Page_287'></span>
 +my nerves had been so severely tried; but as I
 +prepared to enter the subterranean passage an
 +unexpected obstacle presented itself in my path.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>It was Habibrah!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The revengeful Obi had not in reality followed
 +the negroes as I had believed, but had concealed
 +himself behind a rocky projection of the cave, waiting
 +for a propitious moment for his vengeance; and this
 +moment had come. He laughed bitterly as he
 +showed himself. A dagger, the same that he was
 +in the habit of using for a crucifix, shone in his right
 +hand: at the sight of it I recoiled a step.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Ha, accursed one, did you think to escape me?
 +But the fool is not such a fool after all! I have you,
 +and this time there shall be no delay. Your friend
 +Bug-Jargal shall not wait for you long, you shall soon
 +be at the meeting-place, but it will be the wave of
 +the cataract that shall bear you there.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>As he spoke he dashed at me with uplifted weapon.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Monster,” cried I, retreating to the platform,
 +“just now you were only an executioner, now you
 +are a murderer.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I am an avenger,” returned he, grinding his
 +teeth.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I was on the edge of the precipice; he endeavoured
 +to hurl me over with a blow of his dagger. I avoided
 +it. His foot slipped on the treacherous moss which
 +covered the rocks, he rolled into the slope polished
 +and rounded by the constant flow of water.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“A thousand devils!” roared he.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He had fallen into the abyss.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I have already mentioned that the roots of the
 +<span class='pageno' title='288' id='Page_288'></span>
 +old tree projected through the crevices of the rocks,
 +a little below the edge of the precipice. In his fall
 +the dwarf struck against these, his striped petticoat
 +caught in them, he grasped at them as a last hope
 +of safety, and clung to them with all the energy of
 +despair.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>His pointed bonnet fell from his head; to maintain
 +his position he had to let go his dagger, and the
 +two together disappeared in the depths of the abyss.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Habibrah, suspended over the terrible gulf, strove
 +vainly to regain the platform, but his short arms
 +could not reach the rocky edge, and he broke his
 +nails in useless efforts to obtain a hold on the muddy
 +surface of the rocks which sloped down into the
 +terrible abyss.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He howled with rage.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The slightest push on my part would have been
 +sufficient to hurl him to destruction, but it would
 +have been an act of cowardice, and I made no
 +movement. This moderation on my part seemed to
 +surprise him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Thanking heaven for its mercies, I determined to
 +abandon him to his fate, and was about to leave the
 +cave when, in a voice broken with fear, and which
 +appeared to come from the depths of the abyss, he
 +addressed me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Master,” cried he, “master, do not go, for pity’s
 +sake! do not, in the name of heaven, leave a guilty
 +creature to perish, that it is in your power to save.
 +Alas, my strength is failing me; the roots bend, and
 +slip through my fingers, the weight of my body drags
 +me down—I must let go, or my arms will break!
 +<span class='pageno' title='289' id='Page_289'></span>
 +Alas, master, the fearful gulfs boils and seethes
 +beneath me! <span class='it'>Nombre santo de Dios!</span> Have you no
 +pity for the poor fool? He has been very guilty,
 +but prove that the white men are better than the
 +mulattoes, the masters than the slaves, by saving
 +him.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I approached the brink of the precipice, and the
 +feeble light that broke through the aperture in the
 +roof showed me, on the repulsive features of the
 +dwarf, an expression which I had never noticed before,
 +that of prayer and supplication.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Señor Leopold,” continued he, encouraged by
 +the movement of pity that I showed, “can you see
 +a fellow-creature in so terrible a position of peril,
 +without stretching out a hand to save him? Give
 +me your hand, master; with very slight assistance
 +from you I can save myself—I only ask for a little
 +help. Help me then, and my gratitude shall be as
 +great as my crimes.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I interrupted him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Unhappy wretch, do not recall them to my
 +memory.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It is because I repent of them that I do so. Oh,
 +be generous to me! O heavens, my hand relaxes its
 +grasp, and I fall! <span class='it'>Ay desdichado!</span> The hand, your
 +hand; in the name of the mother who bore you, give
 +me your hand!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I cannot describe the tone of agony in which he
 +pleaded for help. In this moment of peril I forgot
 +all; it was no longer an enemy, a traitor, and an
 +assassin, but an unhappy fellow-creature, whom a
 +slight exertion upon my part could rescue from a
 +<span class='pageno' title='290' id='Page_290'></span>
 +frightful death. He implored me in heart-rending
 +accents. Reproaches would have been fruitless, and
 +out of place. The necessity for help was urgent and
 +immediate. I stooped, knelt down on the brink of
 +the precipice, and grasping the trunk of the tree with
 +one hand, I extended the other to Habibrah.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>As soon as it was within his reach, he grasped it
 +with both his hands, and hung on to it with all his
 +strength. Far from attempting to aid me in my efforts
 +to draw him up, I felt that he was exerting all his
 +powers to draw me down with him into the abyss.
 +If it had not been for the assistance afforded to me
 +by the trunk of the tree, I must infallibly have been
 +dragged over by the violent and unexpected jerk that
 +the wretched man gave me.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Villain!” cried I; “what are you doing?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Avenging myself,” answered he, with a peal of
 +devilish laughter. “Aha! madman, have I got you
 +in my clutches once more? You have of your own
 +free-will placed yourself again in my power, and I
 +hold you tight. You were saved and I was lost, and
 +yet you of your own accord place your head between
 +the jaws of the alligator, because it wept after having
 +roared. I can bear death, since it will give me
 +revenge. You are caught in the trap, <span class='it'>amigo</span>, and
 +I shall take a companion with me to feed the fishes
 +of the lake.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Ah, traitor!” cried I, struggling with all my
 +strength. “Is it thus that you serve me when I was
 +trying to save you?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” hissed he. “I know that we could have
 +saved ourselves together, but I would rather that we
 +<span class='pageno' title='291' id='Page_291'></span>
 +should die at the same moment. I had rather compass
 +your death, than save my life. Come down!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>As he spoke, his brown muscular hands grasped
 +mine with unexpected strength, his eyes blazed, his
 +mouth foamed; the strength, the departure of which
 +he had before so piteously bewailed, had returned
 +to him increased a thousandfold by the hope of
 +revenge. His feet were planted like two perpendicular
 +levers on a ledge of rock, and he struggled like a
 +tiger against the root which, entangled in his clothes,
 +supported him in spite of himself, for he was endeavouring
 +with all his might to shake himself free, so as
 +to bring all his weight to bear on me, and to drag
 +me more quickly into the yawning gulf below.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>In his rage he endeavoured to bite me, whilst his
 +hideous features were rendered more terrible by their
 +expression of satanic frenzy.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He looked like the demon of the cave seeking to
 +drag down his victim to his abode of gloom and
 +darkness.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>One of my knees, by good fortune, was planted in
 +a groove of the rock, and my arm was wrapped round
 +the trunk of the tree, and I strove against the efforts
 +of the dwarf with all the strength that the feeling of
 +self-preservation could give me at such a moment.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Every now and then I drew a long breath, and
 +shouted “Bug-Jargal” with all the force of my lungs.
 +But the roar of the cascade, and the distance that he
 +must be off, gave me but faint hopes of my voice
 +reaching him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>But the dwarf, who had not anticipated so vigorous
 +a resistance on my part, redoubled his efforts. I
 +<span class='pageno' title='292' id='Page_292'></span>
 +began to grow weak, though in reality the struggle
 +had not taken so long as the narration of it. A
 +violent pain paralyzed my arm, my sight grew dim,
 +bright sparks flashed before my eyes, and a buzzing
 +sound filled my ears. I heard the creaking of the root
 +as it bent, mingled with the laugh of the monster,
 +and the abyss seemed to rise up towards me as though
 +eager to engulf its prey. But before I gave up all
 +hope I made a last effort, and collecting together my
 +exhausted forces, I once again shouted “Bug-Jargal.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A loud bark replied to me; it was Rask who thus
 +answered my appeal for help. I glanced upwards—Bug-Jargal
 +and his dog were gazing at me from the
 +orifice in the roof.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He saw my danger at once.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Hold on!” cried he.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Habibrah, fearing that I might yet be saved, foamed
 +with rage, and crying, “Come down there, come
 +down!” renewed the attack with almost supernatural
 +vigour.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At this moment, weakened by the long struggle,
 +my arm lost its hold of the tree. All seemed over
 +with me, when I felt myself seized from behind. It
 +was Rask!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At a sign from his master he had leapt down on
 +the platform, and seized me by the skirts of my
 +uniform with his powerful teeth.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This unlooked-for aid saved me. Habibrah had
 +exhausted all his strength in a last convulsive effort,
 +whilst I put forth all mine and succeeded in withdrawing
 +my hand from his cramped and swollen
 +fingers. The root, which had been for some time yielding,
 +<span class='pageno' title='293' id='Page_293'></span>
 +now parted suddenly, Rask gave me a violent
 +pull backwards, and the wretched dwarf disappeared
 +in the foam of the cascade, hurling a curse at me
 +which was swallowed up with him in the whirl of
 +waters.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Such was the terrible end of my uncle’s fool.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER LII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> excitement of the last few hours, the terrible
 +struggle and its awful conclusion, had utterly exhausted
 +me, and I lay where I had fallen, almost
 +deprived of sense or power of motion. The voice of
 +Bug-Jargal restored me to myself.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Brother,” cried he, “hasten to leave this place.
 +In half an hour the sun will have set; I will meet you
 +in the valley. Follow Rask.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The words of my friend restored hope, strength,
 +and courage to me. I rose to my feet. The great
 +dog ran rapidly down the subterranean passage; I
 +followed him, his bark guiding me through the darkness.
 +After a time I saw a streak of light, and in
 +a few minutes I gained the entrance, and breathed
 +more freely as I passed through the archway. As I
 +left the damp and gloomy vault behind me, I recalled
 +to my mind the prediction of the dwarf, and its fatal
 +fulfilment, “<span class='it'>One only of us shall return by this road</span>.”
 +His attempt had failed, but the prophecy had been
 +carried out.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='294' id='Page_294'></span></p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER LIII.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Bug-Jargal</span> was waiting for me in the valley. I
 +threw myself into his arms, but I had so many
 +questions to put to him that I could not find words
 +in which to express them.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Listen to me,” said he. “Your wife, my sister,
 +is in safety in the camp of the white men; I handed
 +her over to a relation of yours who was in command
 +of the outposts, and I wished to again constitute
 +myself a prisoner, lest they should execute the ten
 +prisoners whose lives were security for my reappearance.
 +But your relative told me to return,
 +and, if possible, to prevent your execution; and that
 +the ten negroes should not be executed until Biassou
 +should announce the fact by displaying a black flag on
 +one of the highest peaks of the mountains. Then I
 +returned to do my best. Rask led me to where you
 +were—thanks be to heaven, I arrived in time. You
 +will live, and so shall I.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He extended his hand to me, adding—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Brother, are you satisfied?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I again clasped him to my breast; I entreated
 +him not to leave me again, but to remain with the
 +white troops, and I promised him to exert all my
 +influence to procure him a commission in the colonial
 +army. But he interrupted me with an angry air.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Brother,” asked he, “do I propose to you to
 +join my army?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I kept silence, for I felt that I had been guilty of
 +a folly; then he added in a tone of affected gaiety—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='295' id='Page_295'></span>
 +“Come, let us hurry to the camp to reassure
 +your wife.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>This proposal was what I most ardently desired;
 +we started at once. The negro knew the way, and
 +took the lead; Rask followed us.</p>
 +
 +<hr class='tbk'/>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Here D’Auverney stopped suddenly, and cast a
 +gloomy look around him; perspiration in large beads
 +covered his forehead; he concealed his face with his
 +hands. Rask looked at him with an air of uneasiness.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, you may well look at me like that,” murmured
 +he.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>An instant afterwards he rose from his seat in a
 +state of violent agitation, and, followed by the sergeant
 +and the dog, rushed hurriedly from the tent.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER LIV.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>“I will</span> lay a bet,” said Henri, “that we are nearing
 +the end of the drama; and I should really feel sorry
 +if anything happened to Bug-Jargal, for he was really
 +a famous fellow.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Paschal removed from his lips the mouth of his
 +wicker-covered flask, and said—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I would give twelve dozen of port to have seen
 +the cocoa-nut cup that he emptied at a draught.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Alfred, who was gently humming the air of a love-song,
 +interrupted himself by asking Henri to tie his
 +aguilettes; then he added—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The negro interests me very much, but I have
 +not dared to ask D’Auverney if he knew the air of
 +‘Beautiful Padilla.’ ”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='296' id='Page_296'></span>
 +“What a villain that Biassou was,” continued
 +Paschal; “but for all that he knew the value of a
 +Frenchman’s word; but there are people more pitiless
 +than Biassou—my creditors, for instance.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“But what do you think of D’Auverney’s story?”
 +asked Henri.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Ma foi,” answered Alfred, “I have not paid
 +much attention to it; but I certainly had expected
 +something more interesting from D’Auverney’s lips,
 +and then I want to know the air to which Bug-Jargal
 +sang his songs. In fact, I must admit that the story
 +has bored me a little.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You are right,” returned Paschal, the aide-de-camp.
 +“Had I not had my pipe and my bottle, I
 +should have passed but a dreary evening. Besides,
 +there were a lot of absurdities in it; how can we
 +believe, for instance, that that little thief of a sorcerer—I
 +forget his name—would have drowned himself
 +for the sake of destroying his enemy?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Henri interrupted him with a smile.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You cannot understand any one taking to water,
 +can you, Captain Paschal? But what struck me
 +more than anything was, that every time D’Auverney
 +mentioned the name of Bug-Jargal his lame dog
 +lifted up his head.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The sound of the sentry carrying arms warned
 +them of D’Auverney’s return. All remained silent.
 +He walked up and down the tent for a few moments
 +with folded arms, without a word.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Old Sergeant Thaddeus, who had returned with
 +him, bent over Rask, and furtively caressed him,
 +hoping by that means to conceal his countenance,
 +<span class='pageno' title='297' id='Page_297'></span>
 +which was full of anxiety, from the eyes of his captain.
 +At length, after making a strong effort, D’Auverney
 +continued his narrative.</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>CHAPTER LV.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Rask</span> followed us. The highest rock in the valley
 +was not yet lighted by the rays of the sun; a glimmer
 +of light touched it for an instant, and then passed
 +away.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The negro trembled, and grasped my hand firmly.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Listen,” said he.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A dull sound like the discharge of a piece of artillery
 +was heard, and was repeated by the echoes of the
 +valleys.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It is the signal,” said the negro in a gloomy
 +voice. “It was a cannon shot, was it not?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I nodded in sign of the affirmative.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>In two bounds he sprang to the top of a lofty
 +rock; I followed him. He crossed his arms and
 +smiled sadly.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Do you see that?” asked he.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I looked in the direction to which he pointed, and
 +on the lofty peak to which he had drawn my attention
 +during our last interview with Marie, and which was
 +now glowing in the rays of the setting sun, I saw a
 +huge black flag, its folds flapping idly in the breeze.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>(At this point of his recital D’Auverney again
 +paused.)</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I learned afterwards that Biassou, in a hurry to
 +leave his ground, had ordered the flag to be hoisted
 +<span class='pageno' title='298' id='Page_298'></span>
 +without waiting for the return of the negroes who
 +had been despatched to assist at my execution.
 +Bug-Jargal was still in the same position—his arms
 +folded, and his eyes eagerly fixed upon the fatal
 +signal.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Suddenly he started, and seemed about to descend
 +from his post of observation.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Great heavens! my unfortunate comrades!”
 +cried he. “Did you hear the gun?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I made no reply.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It was the signal, my brother. They are leading
 +them now to the place of execution.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>His head fell upon his breast; after a short pause,
 +he said—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Go, brother, and rejoice your wife; Rask will
 +guide you to her;” and he whistled an African air,
 +which Rask appeared to recognize, for he wagged his
 +tail, and seemed ready to set out.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Bug-Jargal grasped my hand, and strove to smile,
 +but his features were contracted, and his look was
 +ghastly.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Farewell for ever!” cried he, and dashed into
 +the thicket by which we were surrounded.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>I remained motionless; the little that I understood
 +of the position made me fear the worst.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Rask, on seeing his master disappear, advanced to
 +the edge of the rock, and, raising his head, uttered a
 +plaintive howl. Then he turned to me, his tail was
 +between his legs and his eyes were moist; he looked
 +at me with an air of inquietude, and turned to the
 +spot from which his master had disappeared, and
 +barked several times. I understood him, and shared
 +<span class='pageno' title='299' id='Page_299'></span>
 +his fears. Suddenly he dashed off in pursuit of his
 +master, and I should soon have lost sight of him,
 +had he not every now and then halted to give me
 +time to come up to him. In this manner we passed
 +through many a valley and leafy glade; we climbed
 +hills and crossed streams. At last——</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>D’Auverney’s voice failed him, an expression of
 +despair covered his face, and he could not find words
 +to continue his narrative.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Continue it, Thaddeus,” said he, “for I can go
 +on no further.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The old sergeant was not less distressed than his
 +captain, but he made an effort to obey him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“With your permission, gentlemen,” said he, “and
 +since it is your wish, captain, I must tell you, gentlemen,
 +that Bug-Jargal—otherwise called Pierrot—was
 +a tall negro, very strong, very gentle, and the
 +bravest man in the world—except you, captain, if
 +you please; but I was terribly prejudiced against
 +him, for which I will never pardon myself, though
 +you, captain, have forgiven me; so much so, that,
 +when we heard that your execution had been fixed
 +for the evening of the second day, I flew into a
 +furious rage with the poor fellow, and I felt a fiendish
 +pleasure in informing him that his death would pay
 +for yours, or that, if he escaped, ten of his men
 +would be shot by way of reprisal. He said nothing
 +upon hearing this, but an hour afterwards he made
 +his escape through a great hole which he pierced in
 +the wall of his prison.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>D’Auverney made a movement of impatience, and
 +Thaddeus continued:</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='300' id='Page_300'></span>
 +“Well, when we saw the great black flag hoisted
 +on the mountain—and as the negro had not returned,
 +a fact which surprised none of us—our officers ordered
 +the signal gun to be fired, and I was ordered to conduct
 +the ten negroes to the place of execution, a spot
 +we call the Devil’s Mouth, about—but it does not
 +matter how far it was from the camp. Well, as you
 +can imagine, we did not take them there to set them
 +at liberty, but I had them bound, as is the custom,
 +and paraded my firing party, when who should burst
 +upon us but the tall negro. He was out of breath
 +with the speed that he had made.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Good evening, Thaddeus,’ said he. ‘I am in
 +time.’</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“No, gentlemen, he did not utter another word,
 +but hastened to unbind his comrades. I stood there
 +in stupefaction. Then—with your permission, captain—there
 +was a good deal of generous argument
 +between the other negroes and himself, which might
 +have lasted longer but—well, it is no good hiding
 +the fact, it was I that stopped it. At any rate, he
 +took their place. Then the great dog came, poor
 +Rask; he leapt at my throat: he ought to have held
 +me longer, but Pierrot made a sign to him, and the
 +poor brute released me, but his master could not
 +prevent his taking his place at my feet. Then,
 +believing that you were dead, captain—well, I was
 +in a fine rage; I gave the word, Bug-Jargal fell, and
 +a bullet broke the dog’s foot.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Since that time, gentlemen,” continued the sergeant,
 +sadly, “he has been lame. Then I heard
 +groans in the adjacent wood; I reached it, and found
 +<span class='pageno' title='301' id='Page_301'></span>
 +you—a stray bullet had hit you as you were running
 +forward to save the tall negro. Yes, captain, you
 +were wounded, but Bug-Jargal was dead!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“We carried you back to the camp; you were not
 +dangerously wounded, and the doctors soon cured
 +you, but I believe Madame Marie’s nursing had a
 +good deal to do with it.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The sergeant stopped in his story, and D’Auverney,
 +in a solemn voice, added—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Bug-Jargal was dead!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Thaddeus bowed his head.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” said he, “he spared my life, and I—I killed
 +him.”</p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h3>EPILOGUE.</h3>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The reader, in general, is seldom satisfied with the
 +conclusion of a narrative unless it enters into every
 +detail in winding up the story. For this reason the
 +minutest researches have been made into the facts
 +having reference to the concluding details of the
 +last scenes of Leopold d’Auverney’s life, as well as
 +those of his sergeant and the dog Rask.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The reader is already aware that the captain’s
 +feelings of melancholy arose partly from the death of
 +Bug-Jargal, otherwise called Pierrot; but they are
 +not acquainted with the fact that those feelings
 +were terribly increased by the loss of his beloved
 +Marie, who, after having been preserved from the
 +horrors that attended the taking of Fort Galifet,
 +perished in the burning of Cap which took place some
 +weeks later.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='302' id='Page_302'></span>
 +The fate of Leopold d’Auverney may be briefly
 +recapitulated. A great victory had been won by the
 +Republican forces against one of those united European
 +armies which so often struggled vainly against
 +our soldiers; and the General of Division, who was
 +in command of the entire force, was seated in his
 +tent drawing up, from the reports of his staff, the
 +bulletin which was to be sent to the National Convention
 +concerning the victory of the day before.
 +As he was thus occupied, an aide-de-camp announced
 +to him the arrival of a Representative of the People,
 +who demanded an audience. The general loathed
 +these ambassadors of the guillotine, who were sent
 +by the party of the Mountain to humiliate the
 +military officers, and too often to demand the heads
 +of the most gallant of the men who had fought
 +bravely for the Republic; looking upon them as
 +chartered informers charged with the hateful mission
 +of spying upon glory. But it would have been
 +dangerous for him to have refused to admit him,
 +especially after such a victory as had resulted to the
 +arms of the Republic.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The gory idol which France had then set up
 +almost invariably demanded victims of the highest
 +lineage, and the executioners of the Place de la
 +Revolution were delighted if they could at the same
 +time cause a head and a coronet to fall—were it one
 +of thorns, like that of Louis XVI.; of flowers, like
 +those of the girls of Verdun; or of laurels like those
 +of Custine or of André Chénier. The general, therefore,
 +gave immediate orders that the Representative
 +of the People should be introduced to his presence.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='303' id='Page_303'></span>
 +After a few clumsy congratulations regarding the
 +recent victory, the Representative of the People
 +came up close to the general, and muttered in a suppressed
 +voice—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“But this is not all, Citizen General; it is not
 +enough to destroy the foreign enemy—those nearer
 +home must be also crushed.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What do you mean, Citizen Representative?
 +asked the astonished general.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“There is in your division,” answered the emissary
 +of the Convention, in an unpleasant manner, “a
 +captain named Leopold d’Auverney, who is serving
 +in the 32nd Brigade; do you know him, general?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Know him, certainly I do,” replied the general;
 +“only as you came in I was reading the report of
 +the Adjutant General which refers to him. The
 +32nd Brigade had in him an excellent officer, and
 +I was about to recommend him for promotion.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What, Citizen General?” interposed the representative,
 +harshly, “were you thinking of promoting
 +him?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Such was most certainly my intention, citizen.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Victory has blinded you, general,” cried the
 +representative, imperiously; “take care what you
 +say or do. If you cherish serpents who are the
 +enemies of the people, take care that the people do
 +not crush you and the serpents at the same moment.
 +This Leopold d’Auverney is an aristocrat, a hater
 +of the revolution, a royalist, a Girondin! Public
 +justice demands his head, and he must be given up
 +to me on the spot.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I cannot do so,” replied the general, coldly.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='304' id='Page_304'></span>
 +“<span class='it'>How! you cannot do so?</span>” shouted the representative,
 +whose rage was redoubled at this opposition.
 +“Are you ignorant, general, of the extent of my
 +power? I, in the name of the Republic, command
 +you, and you have no option but to obey. Listen to
 +me: in consideration of your recent success, I will
 +read you the report which has been handed in
 +regarding this D’Auverney, and which I shall send
 +with him to the Public Prosecutor. ‘Leopold
 +Auverney (formerly known as D’Auverney), captain
 +in the 32nd Brigade, is convicted of having, at a
 +meeting of conspirators, narrated an anti-revolutionary
 +tale, conducing to the ridicule of the true
 +principles of Equality and Liberty, and exalting
 +the worn-out superstitions known under the names
 +of <span class='it'>royalty</span> and <span class='it'>religion</span>. Convicted, secondly, of
 +having used expressions deservedly forbidden by
 +all good republicans, to describe certain recent
 +events, notably those referring to the negroes
 +of Saint Domingo. Convicted thirdly, of having
 +made use of the expression <span class='it'>Monsieur</span> instead of
 +<span class='it'>Citizen</span> during the whole of his narrative; and, by the
 +said narrative, of having endeavoured to bring into
 +contempt the Republic one and indivisible, and also
 +to propagate the infamous doctrines of the Girondins.’
 +Death is the punishment for these crimes, and I
 +demand his body. Do you hesitate, general, to hand
 +this traitor over to me, to meet the well-merited
 +punishment of his crimes?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Citizen,” answered the general, with dignity,
 +“this enemy of his country has given his life for her.
 +As a contrast to your report, listen to an extract from
 +<span class='pageno' title='305' id='Page_305'></span>
 +mine. ‘Leopold d’Auverney, captain in the 32nd
 +Brigade, has contributed largely to the success that
 +our arms have obtained. A formidable earthwork
 +had been erected by the allies; it was the key to their
 +position, and it was absolutely necessary to carry it
 +at the point of the bayonet. It was an almost
 +impregnable position, and the death of the stormers
 +who led the attack was almost inevitable. Captain
 +d’Auverney volunteered to lead the forlorn hope; he
 +carried the earthwork, but was shot down at the
 +moment of victory. Sergeant Thaddeus of the 32nd,
 +and a large dog, were found dead within a few paces
 +of him.’ It was my intention to propose that the
 +National Convention should pass a vote that the Captain
 +Leopold d’Auverney had merited the thanks of his
 +country. You see, Citizen Representative,” continued
 +the general, calmly, “that our duties differ slightly—we
 +both send a report to the Convention. The same
 +name appears in each list: you denounce him as a
 +traitor, I hold him up to posterity as a hero. You
 +devote him to ignominy, I to glory; you would erect
 +a scaffold for him, whilst I propose a statue in his
 +honour. He is fortunate in having, by death in
 +action, escaped the infamy you proposed for him.
 +He whose death you desired is dead—he has not
 +waited for you.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Furious at seeing his conspiracy disappear with
 +the conspirator, the Representative muttered—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Dead, is he?—more’s the pity.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The general caught his words, and in indignant
 +tones exclaimed—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“There is still something left for you, Citizen
 +<span class='pageno' title='306' id='Page_306'></span>
 +Representative. Go seek for the body of Captain
 +d’Auverney amongst the ruins of the redoubt. Who
 +can tell if the bullets of the enemy may not have
 +spared his head for his country’s guillotine?”</p>
 +
 +<hr class='pbk'/>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='307' id='Page_307'></span></p>
 +
 +<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:4em;font-size:1.2em;'><span class='it'>CLAUDE GUEUX.</span></p>
 +
 +<hr class='pbk'/>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='309' id='Page_309'></span></p>
 +
 +<div class="chapter">
 +<h2>CLAUDE GUEUX.</h2>
 +
 +<hr class='tbk103'/>
 +</div>
 +
 +<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Claude Gueux</span> was a poor workman, living in Paris
 +about eight years ago, with his mistress and child.
 +Although his education had been neglected, and he
 +could not even read, the man was naturally clever
 +and intelligent, and thought deeply over matters.
 +Winter came with its attendant miseries—want of
 +work, want of food, want of fuel. The man, the
 +woman, the child, were frozen and famished. The
 +man turned thief. I know not what he stole. What
 +signifies, as the result was the same: to the woman
 +and child it gave three days’ bread and firing; to the
 +man five years’ imprisonment.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He was taken to Clairvaux, the abbey now converted
 +into a prison, its cells into dungeons, and the
 +altar itself into a pillory. This is called progress.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>But to continue our story. Claude Gueux the honest
 +workman, turned thief from force of circumstances,
 +had a countenance which impressed you: a high
 +forehead somewhat lined with care, dark hair already
 +streaked with grey, deep-set eyes beaming with
 +kindness; whilst the lower part clearly indicated
 +<span class='pageno' title='310' id='Page_310'></span>
 +firmness mingled with self-respect. He rarely spoke,
 +yet there was a certain dignity in the man which
 +commanded respect and obedience. A fine character,
 +and we shall see what society made of it.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Over the prison workshop was an inspector, who
 +rarely forgot that he was the gaoler also, to his
 +subordinates, handing them the tools with one hand,
 +and casting chains upon them with the other. A
 +tyrant, never using even self-reasoning, with ideas
 +against which there was no appeal, hard rather than
 +firm, at times he could even be jocular; doubtless a
 +good father, a good husband, really not vicious, but
 +<span class='it'>bad</span>. He was one of those men who never can grasp
 +a fresh idea, who apparently fail to be moved by any
 +emotion; yet with hatred and rage in their hearts
 +they look like blocks of wood, heated on the one
 +side but frozen on the other. This man’s chief
 +characteristic was obstinacy; and so proud was he
 +of this very stubbornness that he compared himself
 +to Napoleon—an optical delusion, like taking the
 +mere flicker of a candle for a star. When he had
 +made up his mind to a thing, however absurd, he
 +would carry out that absurd idea. How often it
 +happens, when a catastrophe occurs, if we inquire
 +into the cause, we find it originated through the
 +obstinacy of one with little ability, but having full
 +faith in his own powers.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Such was the inspector of the prison workshop at
 +Clairvaux; a man of flint placed by society over
 +others, who hoped to strike sparks out of such
 +material—but a spark from a like source is apt to
 +end in a conflagration.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='311' id='Page_311'></span>
 +The inspector soon singled out Claude Gueux, who
 +had been numbered and placed in the workshop, and,
 +finding him clever, treated him well. Seeing Claude
 +looking sad—for he was ever thinking of her he
 +termed his wife—and being in a good humour, by way
 +of pastime to console the prisoner, he told him the
 +woman had become one of the unfortunate sisterhood,
 +and taken to infamy; of the child nothing was
 +known.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>After a time Claude had accustomed himself to
 +prison rule, and by his calmness of manner, and a
 +certain amount of resolution clearly marked in his
 +face, he had acquired a great ascendency over his
 +companions, who so much admired him that they
 +consulted, and tried in all ways to imitate him. The
 +very expression in his eyes clearly indicated the man’s
 +character; besides, is not the eye the window to the
 +soul, and what other result could be anticipated than
 +that the intelligent spirit should lead men with few
 +ideas, who yielded to the attraction as the metal
 +does to the loadstone. In less than three months
 +Claude was the virtual head of the workshop, and at
 +times he almost doubted whether he was king or
 +prisoner, treated something like a captive pope,
 +surrounded by his cardinals. Such popularity ever
 +has its attendant hatred, and though beloved by the
 +prisoners, Claude was detested by the gaolers. To
 +him two men’s rations would have been scarcely
 +sufficient. The inspector laughed at this, as his own
 +appetite was large; but what would be mirth to a
 +duke, to a prisoner would be a great misfortune.
 +When a free man Claude Gueux could earn his daily
 +<span class='pageno' title='312' id='Page_312'></span>
 +four-pound loaf and enjoy it, but as a prisoner he
 +daily worked, and for his labour received one pound
 +and a-half of bread and four ounces of meat; it
 +naturally followed that he was always hungry.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He had just finished his meagre fare, and was
 +about to resume his labours, hoping in work to
 +forget famine, when a weakly-looking young man
 +came towards him, holding a knife and his untasted
 +rations in his hand, but seemingly afraid to address
 +him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What do you want?” said Claude, roughly.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“A favour at your hands,” timidly replied the
 +young man.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What is it?” said Claude.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Help me with my rations, I have more than I
 +can eat.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>For a moment Claude was taken aback, but without
 +further ceremony he divided the food in two and
 +at once partook of one half.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Thank you,” said the young man, “and allow
 +me to share my rations with you every day.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What is your name?” said Claude.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Albin.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Why are you here?” added Claude.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I robbed.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“So did I,” said Claude.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The same scene took place daily between this man,
 +old before his time—he was only thirty-six—and the
 +boy of twenty, who looked at the most seventeen.
 +The feeling was more like that of father and son
 +than one brother to another; everything created a
 +bond of union between them—the very toil they
 +<span class='pageno' title='313' id='Page_313'></span>
 +endured together, the fact of sleeping in the same
 +quarters and taking exercise in the same courtyard.
 +They were happy, for were they not all the world to
 +each other!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The inspector of the workshop was so hated by the
 +prisoners that he often had recourse to Claude Gueux
 +to enforce his authority; and when a tumult was on
 +the point of breaking out, a few words from Claude
 +had more effect than the authority of ten warders.
 +Although the inspector was glad to avail himself of
 +this influence, he was jealous, and hated the improved
 +robber with an envious and implacable feeling—an
 +example of might over right, all the more fearful as
 +it was secretly nourished. Claude cared so much
 +for Albin that he thought little about the inspector.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>One morning as the warders were going their rounds
 +one of them summoned Albin, who was working with
 +Claude, to go before the inspector.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What are you wanted for?” said Claude.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I do not know,” replied Albin, following the
 +warder.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>All day Claude looked in vain for his companion,
 +and at night, finding him still absent, he broke
 +through his ordinary reserve and addressed the turnkey.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Is Albin ill?” said he.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“No,” replied the man.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“How is it that he has never put in an appearance
 +to-day?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“His quarters have been changed,” was the reply.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>For a moment Claude trembled, then calmly
 +continued—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='314' id='Page_314'></span>
 +“Who gave the order?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Monsieur D——.” This was the inspector’s name.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>On the following night the inspector, Monsieur
 +D——, went his rounds as usual; Claude, who had
 +perceived him from the distance, rose, and hastened
 +to raise his woollen cap and button his grey woollen
 +vest to the throat—considered a mark of respect to
 +superiors in prison discipline.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Sir,” said Claude, as the inspector was about to
 +pass him, “has Albin really been quartered elsewhere?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” replied the inspector.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Sir, I cannot live without him. You know the
 +rations are insufficient for me, and Albin divided his
 +portion with me. Could you not manage to let him
 +resume his old place near me?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Impossible, the order cannot be revoked.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“By whom was it given?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“By me.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Monsieur D——,” replied Claude, “on you my
 +life depends.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I never cancel an order once given.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Sir, what have I ever done to you?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Nothing.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Why, then,” cried Claude, “separate me from
 +Albin?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Because I do,” replied the inspector, and with
 +that he passed on.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Claude’s head sunk down, like the poor caged
 +lion deprived of his dog; but the grief, though so
 +deeply felt, in no way changed his appetite—he
 +was famished. Many offered to share their rations
 +<span class='pageno' title='315' id='Page_315'></span>
 +with him, but he steadily refused, and continued his
 +usual routine in silence, breaking it only to ask the
 +inspector daily, in tones of anguish mingled with
 +rage, something between a prayer and a threat, these
 +two words:</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“And Albin?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The inspector simply passed on, shrugging his
 +shoulders, but had he only observed Claude he would
 +have seen the evident change, noticeable to all present.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Sir, listen to me; send my companion to me. It
 +would be wise to do so, I can assure you. Remember
 +my words.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>On Sunday he had sat for hours in the courtyard,
 +with his head bowed in his hands, and when a prisoner
 +called Faillette came up laughing, he said—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I am judging someone.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>On the 25th of October, 1831, as the inspector went
 +his rounds, Claude, to draw his attention, smashed a
 +watch-glass he had found in the passage. This had
 +the desired effect.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“It was I,” said Claude. “Sir, restore my comrade
 +to me.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Impossible,” was the answer.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Looking the inspector full in the face, Claude
 +firmly added—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Now reflect; to-day is the 25th of October, I
 +give you till the 4th of November.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A warder remarked that Claude was threatening
 +Monsieur D——, and ought at once to be locked up.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“No, it is not a case of blackhole,” replied the
 +inspector, smiling disdainfully; “we must be considerate
 +with people of this stamp.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='316' id='Page_316'></span>
 +The following day Claude was again accosted by
 +one of the prisoners named Pernot, as he was brooding
 +in the courtyard.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Well, Claude, you are sad indeed; what are you
 +pondering over?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I fear some evil threatens that good Monsieur
 +D——,” answered Claude.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Claude daily impressed the fact on the inspector
 +how much Albin’s absence affected him, but with
 +no result save four-and-twenty hours’ solitary confinement.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>On the 4th of November he looked round his cell
 +for the little that remained to remind him of his
 +former life. A pair of scissors, and an old volume
 +of the “Emile,” belonging to the woman he had
 +loved so well, the mother of his child—how useless
 +to a man who could neither work nor read!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>As Claude walked down the old cloisters, so dishonoured
 +by its new inmates and its fresh white-washed
 +walls, he noticed how earnestly the convict
 +Ferrari was looking at the heavy iron bars which
 +crossed the window.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“To-night I will cut through those bars with these
 +scissors,” pointing to the pair he still held in his hand.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Ferrari laughed incredulously, and Claude joined
 +in the mirth. During the day he worked with more
 +than ordinary ardour, wishing to finish a straw hat,
 +which he had been paid for in advance by a tradesman
 +at Troyes, M. Bressier.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Shortly before noon he made some excuse to go
 +down into the carpenters’ quarters, a story below
 +his own, at the time the warders were absent.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='317' id='Page_317'></span>
 +Claude received a hearty welcome, as he was
 +equally popular here as elsewhere.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Can any one lend me an axe?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What for?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Without exacting any promises of secrecy he at
 +once replied—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“To kill the inspector with to-night.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He was at once offered several; choosing the
 +smallest, he hid it beneath his waistcoat and left.
 +Now there were twenty-seven prisoners present,
 +and not one of those men betrayed him; they even
 +refrained from talking upon the subject among themselves,
 +waiting for the terrible event which must
 +follow.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>As Claude passed on he saw a young convict of
 +sixteen yawning idly there, and he strongly advised
 +him to learn how to read. Just then Faillette asked
 +what he was hiding. Claude answered unhesitatingly—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“An axe to kill Monsieur D—— to-night; but can
 +you see it?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“A little,” said Faillette.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At seven o’clock the prisoners were locked in their
 +several workshops. It was then the custom for the
 +warders to leave them, until the inspector had been
 +his rounds.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>In Claude’s workshop a most extraordinary scene
 +took place, the only one of the kind on record.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Claude rose and addressed his companions, eighty-four
 +in number, in the following words:</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You all know Albin and I were like brothers. I
 +liked him at first for sharing his rations with me,
 +<span class='pageno' title='318' id='Page_318'></span>
 +afterwards because he cared for me. Now I never
 +have sufficient, though I spend the pittance I earn
 +in bread. It could make no possible difference to
 +the inspector, Monsieur D——, that we should be
 +together; but he chose to separate us simply from a
 +love of tormenting, for he is a bad man. I asked
 +again and again for Albin to be sent back, without
 +success; and when I gave him a stated time, the 4th
 +of November, I was thrust into a dungeon. During
 +that time I became his judge, and sentenced him to
 +death on November the 4th. In two hours he will
 +be here, and I warn you I intend to kill him. But
 +have you anything to say?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>There was a dead silence. Claude then continued
 +telling his comrades, the eighty-one thieves, his ideas
 +on the subject.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>That he was reduced to a fearful extremity, and
 +compelled by that very necessity to take the law into
 +his own hands. He knew full well he could not take
 +the inspector’s life without sacrificing his own; but
 +as the cause was a just one, he would bear the consequences,
 +having come to this conclusion after two
 +months’ calm reflection. If they considered resentment
 +alone hurried him on to such a step, they were
 +at once to say so, and to state their objections to
 +the sentence being carried out.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>One voice alone broke the silence which followed,
 +saying—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Before killing the inspector, Claude ought to
 +give him a chance of relenting.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“That is but just,” said Claude, “and he shall
 +have the benefit of the doubt.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='319' id='Page_319'></span>
 +Claude then sorted the few things a poor prisoner
 +is allowed, and gave them to the comrades he mostly
 +cared for after Albin, keeping only the pair of scissors.
 +He then embraced them all; some could not withhold
 +their tears at such a moment. Claude continued
 +calmly to converse during this last hour, and even
 +gave way to a trick he had as a boy, of extinguishing
 +the candle with a breath from his nose. Seeing him
 +thus, his companions afterwards owned, they hoped
 +he had abandoned his sinister idea.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>One young convict looked at him fixedly, trembling
 +for the coming event.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Take courage, young fellow,” said Claude, gently,
 +“it will be but the work of a minute.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The workshop was a long room with a door at both
 +ends, and windows each side overlooking the benches,
 +thus leaving a pathway up the centre for the inspector
 +to review the work on both sides of him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Claude had now resumed his work—something like
 +Jacques Clement, who did not fail to repeat his
 +prayers.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>As the clock sounded the last quarter to nine,
 +Claude rose and placed himself near the entrance,
 +apparently calm.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Amidst the most profound silence the clock struck
 +nine; the door was thrown open, and the inspector
 +came in as usual alone, looking quite jovial and self-satisfied,
 +passing rapidly along, tossing his head at
 +one, grinding words out to another, little heeding the
 +eyes fixed so fiercely upon him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Just then he heard Claude’s step, and turning
 +quickly round said—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='320' id='Page_320'></span>
 +“What are you doing here? why are you not in
 +your place?” just as he would have spoken to a dog.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Claude answered respectfully—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I wish to speak to you, sir.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“On what subject?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Albin.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Again!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Always the same,” said Claude.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“So then,” replied the inspector, walking along,
 +“you have not had enough with twenty-four hours in
 +the blackhole.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Claude, following him closely, replied—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Sir, return my companion to me.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Impossible.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Sir,” continued Claude, in a voice which would
 +have moved Satan, “I implore you to send Albin
 +back to me; you will then see how I will work. You
 +are free, and it would matter but little to you; you do
 +not know the feeling of having only one friend. To
 +me it is everything, encircled by the prison walls.
 +You can come and go at your pleasure; I have but
 +Albin. Pray let him come back to me! You know
 +well he shared his food with me. What can it matter
 +to you that a man named Claude Gueux should be in
 +this hall, having another by his side called Albin?
 +You have but to say ‘Yes,’ nothing more. Sir, my
 +good sir, I implore you, in the name of heaven, to
 +grant my prayer!”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Claude, overcome with emotion, waited for the
 +answer.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Impossible,” replied the inspector, impatiently;
 +“I will not recall my words. Now go, you annoyance.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='321' id='Page_321'></span>
 +And with that he hurried on towards the outer door,
 +amidst the breathless silence maintained by the
 +eighty-one thieves.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Claude, touching the inspector, gently asked—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Let me at least know why I am condemned to
 +death. Why did you separate us?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“I have already answered you: because I chose.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>With that he was about to lift the latch, when
 +Claude raised the axe, and without one cry the
 +inspector fell to the ground, with his skull completely
 +cloven from three heavy blows dealt with the rapidity
 +of lightning. A fourth completely disfigured his face,
 +and Claude, in his mad fury, gave another and a useless
 +blow, for the inspector was dead.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Claude, throwing the axe aside, cried out, “Now for
 +the other.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The other was himself, and taking the scissors, <span class='it'>his
 +wife’s</span>, he plunged them into his breast; but the blade
 +was short, and the chest was deep, and vainly he
 +strove to give the fatal blow. At last, covered with
 +blood, he fell fainting across the dead.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Which of the two would be considered the victim?</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>When Claude recovered consciousness he was in
 +bed, surrounded by every care and covered with
 +bandages. Near him were sisters of charity, and a
 +recorder ready to take down his deposition, who
 +with much interest inquired how he was.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Claude had lost a great deal of blood, but the
 +scissors had done him a bad turn, inflicting wounds
 +not one the least dangerous: the only mortal blows
 +he had struck were on the body of Monsieur D——.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Then the interrogatory commenced.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='322' id='Page_322'></span>
 +“Did you kill the inspector of the prison workshops
 +at Clairvaux?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” was the reply.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Why did you do so?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Because I did.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Claude’s wounds now assumed a more serious
 +aspect, and he was prostrated with fever which
 +threatened his life. November, December, January,
 +February passed, in nursing and preparations, and
 +Claude in turn was visited by doctor and judge—the
 +one to restore him to health, the other to glean the
 +foundation for his scaffold.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>On the 16th of March, 1832, perfectly cured, Claude
 +appeared in court at Troyes, to answer the charge
 +brought against him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>His appearance impressed the court favourably;
 +he had been shaved and stood bareheaded, but still
 +clad in prison garb.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The court was well guarded by a strong military
 +guard, to keep the witnesses within bounds, as they
 +were all convicts. But an unexpected difficulty
 +occurred: not one of these men would give evidence;
 +neither questions nor threats availed to make them
 +break their silence, until Claude requested them to
 +do so. Then they in turn gave a faithful account of
 +the terrible event, and if one, from forgetfulness or
 +affection for the accused, failed to relate the whole
 +facts, Claude supplied the deficiency.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At one time the women’s tears fell fast. The
 +usher now called the convict Albin. He came in
 +trembling with emotion and sobbing painfully, and
 +threw himself into Claude’s arms.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='323' id='Page_323'></span>
 +Turning to the Public Prosecutor, Claude said—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Here is a convict who gives his food to the
 +hungry,” and stooping, he kissed Albin’s hand.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>All the witnesses having been examined, the
 +counsel for the prosecution then rose to address the
 +court.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Gentlemen of the jury, society would be utterly
 +put to confusion if a public prosecution did not
 +condemn great culprits like him, who, &amp;c.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>After a long address, Claude’s counsel rose.
 +Then followed the usual pleading for and against,
 +which ever takes place at the criminal court.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Claude, in his turn, gave evidence, and people were
 +astonished at his intelligence; and there appeared far
 +more of the orator about this poor workman than the
 +assassin. In a clear and straightforward way he
 +detailed the facts as they were—standing proudly
 +there, resolved to tell the whole truth. At times
 +the crowd was carried away by his eloquence. This
 +man, who could not read, would grasp the most
 +difficult points of argument, yet treat the judges
 +with all due deference. Once Claude lost his temper,
 +when the counsel for the prosecution stated that he
 +had assassinated the inspector without provocation.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What!” cried Claude, “I had no provocation!
 +Indeed: so a drunkard strikes me, I kill him, then
 +you would allow there was provocation—the penalty
 +of death would be changed for that of the galleys;
 +but a man who wounds me in every way during four
 +years, humiliates me for four years, taunts me daily,
 +hourly, for four years, and heaps every insult on
 +my head—what follows? You consider I have
 +<span class='pageno' title='324' id='Page_324'></span>
 +had no provocation. I had a wife for whom I robbed—he
 +tortured me about her; I had a child for whom
 +I robbed—he taunted me about this child; I was
 +hungry, a friend shared his bread with me—he took
 +away my friend. I begged him to return my friend
 +to me; he cast me into a dungeon. I told him how
 +much I suffered; he said it wearied him to listen.
 +What then would you have me do? I took his life,
 +and you look upon me as a monster for killing this
 +man, and you decapitate me—then do so.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Provocation such as this the law fails to acknowledge,
 +because the blows have no marks to show.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The judge then summed up the case in a clear and
 +impartial manner; dwelling on the life Claude had
 +led, living openly with an improper character; then
 +he had robbed, and ended by being a murderer. All
 +this was true.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Before the jury retired, the judge asked Claude if
 +he had any questions to ask, or anything to say.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Very little,” said Claude, however. “I am a
 +murderer, I am a thief; but I ask you, gentlemen of
 +the jury, why did I kill? why did I steal?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The jury retired for a quarter of an hour, and
 +according to the judgment of these twelve countrymen—<span class='it'>gentlemen
 +of the jury</span>, as they are styled—Claude
 +Gueux was condemned to death.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At the very onset several of them were much impressed
 +with the name of Gueux (vagabond), and
 +that influenced their decision.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>When the verdict was pronounced, Claude simply
 +said—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Very well; but there are two questions these
 +<span class='pageno' title='325' id='Page_325'></span>
 +gentlemen have not answered. Why did this man
 +steal? What made him a murderer?”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He made a good supper that night, exclaiming,
 +“Thirty-six years have now passed me.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He refused to make any appeal until the last
 +minute, but at the instance of one of the sisters who
 +had nursed him he consented to do so.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>She in her fulness of heart gave him a five-franc
 +piece.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>His fellow-prisoners, as we have already noticed,
 +were devoted to him, and placed all the means at
 +their disposal to help him to escape: they threw
 +into his dungeon, through the air-hole, a nail, some
 +wire, the handle of a pail—any one of these would
 +have been enough for a man like Claude to free himself
 +from his chains; he gave them up to the warder.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>On the 8th of June, 1832, seven months and four
 +days after the murder, the recorder of the court
 +came, and Claude was told he had but one hour
 +more to live, for his appeal had been rejected.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Indeed,” said Claude, coldly; “I slept well last
 +night, and doubtless I shall pass my next even
 +better.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>First came the priest, then the executioner. He
 +was humble to the priest, and listened to him with
 +great attention, regretting much that he had not had
 +the benefit of religious training; at the same time
 +blaming himself for much in the past.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He was courteous in his manner to the executioner;
 +in fact he gave up all—his soul to the priest,
 +his body to the executioner.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Whilst his hair was being cut, some one mentioned
 +<span class='pageno' title='326' id='Page_326'></span>
 +how the cholera was spreading, and Troyes
 +at any moment might become a prey to this fearful
 +scourge. Claude joined in the conversation, saying,
 +with a smile—“There is one thing to be said, I have
 +no fear of the cholera.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>He had broken half of the scissors; what remained
 +he asked the gaoler to give to Albin—the other half
 +lay buried in his chest. He also wished the day’s
 +rations to be taken to his friend.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The only trifle he retained was the five-franc
 +piece that the sister had given him, which he kept
 +in his right hand after he was bound.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>At a quarter to eight, the dismal procession usual
 +in such cases left the prison. Pale, but with a firm
 +tread, Claude Gueux slowly mounted the scaffold,
 +keeping his eyes fixed on the crucifix the priest
 +carried—an emblem of the Saviour’s suffering. He
 +wished to embrace the priest and the executioner,
 +thanking the one and pardoning the other. The
 +executioner simply repulsed him.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Just before he was bound to the infernal machine
 +he gave the five-franc piece to the priest, saying,
 +“For the poor.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The hour had scarcely struck its eight chimes,
 +when this man, so noble, so intelligent, received the
 +fatal blow which severed his head from his body.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>A market-day had been chosen for the time of
 +execution, as there would be more people about, for
 +there are still in France small towns who glory in
 +having an execution. The guillotine that day remained,
 +inflaming the imagination of the mob to
 +that extent that one of the tax-gatherers was nearly
 +<span class='pageno' title='327' id='Page_327'></span>
 +murdered: such is the admirable effect of public
 +executions.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>We have given the history of Claude Gueux’s life,
 +more to solve a difficult problem than for aught
 +else. In his life there are two questions to be considered.
 +Before his fall, and after his fall. What was
 +his training, and what was the penalty? This must
 +interest society generally, for this man was well gifted,
 +his instincts were good: then what was wanting?
 +On this revolves the grand problem which would
 +place society on a firm basis.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>What nature has commenced in the individual, let
 +society carry out.</span> Look at Claude Gueux. An intelligent
 +and most noble-hearted man, placed in the
 +midst of evil surroundings, he turned thief. Society
 +placed him in a prison where the evil was yet greater,
 +and he ended with becoming a murderer.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Can we really blame him, or ourselves?—questions
 +which require deep thought, or the result will be
 +that we shall be <span class='it'>compelled</span> to shirk this most important
 +subject. The facts are now before us, and
 +if the government gives no thought to the matter,
 +what are the rulers about?</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>The Deputies are yearly much occupied. It is
 +important to sift sinecures and to unravel the
 +budget; to pass an act which compels me, disguised
 +as a soldier, to mount guard at the Count de Lobau’s,
 +whom I do not know, and to whom I wish to remain
 +a stranger; or to go on parade under the command
 +of my grocer, who has been made an officer. I wish
 +to cast no reflections on the patrol, who keep order
 +and protect our homes, but on the absurdity of
 +<span class='pageno' title='328' id='Page_328'></span>
 +making such parade and military hubbub about turning
 +citizens into parodies of soldiers.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Deputies or ministers, it is important we should
 +sound every subject, even though it end in nothing,
 +to question and cross-question what we know but
 +little about. Rulers and legislators, you pass your
 +time in classical comparisons that would make a
 +village schoolmaster smile. You assert that it is the
 +habits of modern civilization that have engendered
 +adultery, incest, parricide, infanticide, and poisoning—proving
 +that you know little of Jocasta Phedra,
 +Œdipus, Medea, or Rodoguna. The great orators
 +occupy themselves in lengthy discussions on
 +Corneille and Racine, and get so heated in literary
 +argument as to make the grossest mistakes in the
 +French language.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>Very important indeed all this is, but we consider
 +there are subjects of far greater consequence.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>In the midst of such useless arguments, what
 +answer would the Deputies give if one rose and
 +gravely addressed them in the following words:—</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Silence, all those who have been speaking—silence
 +I say! You consider yourself acquainted
 +with the question: you know nothing about it.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The question is this. In the name of justice,
 +scarcely a year ago, a man at Panners was cut to
 +pieces; at Dijon a woman’s head was taken off;
 +in Paris, at Saint Jacques, executions take place
 +without number.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“This is the question! Now take your time to
 +consider it, you who argue over the buttons of the
 +national guard, whether they should be white or
 +yellow, and if <span class='it'>security</span> is preferable to <span class='it'>certainty</span>!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='329' id='Page_329'></span>
 +“Gentlemen of the Right, gentleman of the Left,
 +the great mass of the people suffer!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Whether a republic or a monarchy, the fact
 +remains the same—the people suffer!</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The people are famished, the people are frozen.
 +Such misery leads them on to crime: the galleys take
 +the sons, houses of ill-fame the daughters. You
 +have too many convicts, too many unfortunates.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“What is the meaning of this social gangrene?</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You are near the patient: treat the malady.
 +You are at fault: now study the matter more deeply.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“When you pass laws, what are they but expedients
 +and palliatives? Half your codes result
 +from routine.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Branding but cauterizes the wound, and it mortifies,
 +and what is the end? You stamp the crime for
 +life on the criminal; you make two friends of them,
 +two companions—inseparables. The convict prison
 +is a blister which spreads far worse matter than ever
 +it extracts; and as for the sentence of death, when
 +carried out it is a barbarous amputation.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Therefore, branding, penal servitude, and sentence
 +of death are all of one class; you have done
 +away with the branding, banish the rest. Why keep
 +the chain and the chopper now you have put aside
 +the hot iron? Farinace was atrocious, but he was
 +not ridiculous.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Take down that worn ladder that leads to crime
 +and to suffering. Revise your laws; revise your codes;
 +rebuild your prisons; replace your judges. Make
 +laws suited to the present time</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“You are bent on economy; do not be so lavish in
 +<span class='pageno' title='330' id='Page_330'></span>
 +taking off the heads of so many during the year.
 +Suppress the executioner; you could defray the expenses
 +of six hundred schoolmasters with the wages
 +you give your eighty executioners. Think of the
 +multitude; then there would be schools for the
 +children, workshops for the men.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Do you know that in France there are fewer
 +people who know how to read than in any other
 +country in Europe? Fancy, Switzerland can read,
 +Belgium can read, Denmark can read, Greece can
 +read, Ireland can read—and France cannot read! It
 +is a crying evil.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Go into our convict prisons, examine each one of
 +these condemned men, and you will observe by the
 +profile, the shape of the head, how many could find
 +their type in the lower animals. Here are the lynx,
 +the cat, the monkey, the vulture, the hyena. Nature
 +was first to blame, no doubt; but the want of training
 +fostered the evil. Then give the people a fair
 +education, and what there is of good in these ill-conditioned
 +minds, let that be developed.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“People must be judged by their opportunities.
 +Rome and Greece were educated: then brighten
 +the people’s intellect.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“When France can read, then give the people
 +encouragement for higher things. Ignorance is
 +preferable to a little ill-directed knowledge; and
 +remember, there is a book of far greater importance
 +than the <span class='it'>Compère Mathieu</span>, more popular than the
 +<span class='it'>Constitutionel</span>, and more worthy of perusal than the
 +charter of 1830—that is the Bible.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Whatever you may do for the people, the majority
 +<span class='pageno' title='331' id='Page_331'></span>
 +will always remain poor and unhappy. Theirs the
 +work, the heavy burden to carry, to endure: all the
 +miseries for the poor, all the pleasures for the rich.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“As such is life, ought not the State to lean to the
 +weaker and helpless side.”</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“In the midst of all this wretchedness, if you
 +but throw hope in the balance, let the poor man
 +learn there is a heaven where joy reigns, a paradise
 +that he can share, and you raise him; he feels that
 +he has a part in the rich man’s joys. And this was
 +the teaching Jesus gave, and He knew more about it
 +than Voltaire.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Then give to these people who work, and who
 +suffer here, the hope of a different world to come, and
 +they will go on patiently. For patience but follows
 +in the footsteps of hope.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Then spread the Gospel in all our villages, let
 +every cottage have its Bible; the seed thus sown
 +will soon circulate. Encourage virtue, and from
 +that will spring so much that now lies fallow.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“The man turned assassin under certain circumstances,
 +if differently influenced would have served
 +his country well.</p>
 +
 +<p class='pindent'>“Then give the people all encouragement; improve
 +the masses, enlighten them, guard their
 +morals, make them useful, and to such heads as those
 +you will not require to use cold steel.”</p>
 +
 +<hr class='pbk'/>
 +</html>
under_sentence_of_death.txt · Last modified: 2020/10/26 02:29 by briancarnell