The Hour and the Man, An Historical Romance

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

  DREAMING AWAKE.

  Though the peace of the town was now considered secure, there was littleless bustle throughout the day and night than there had been in themorning. The cultivators were all gone home. They poured out of thetown almost as fast as they had poured into it, happy to have attainedtheir object, in the defeat of the French authorities, and to bereturning without the loss or punishment of a man. As they attained theheight behind which they would lose sight of the sea, they turned forone more view of the empty bay, and of the fleet, now disappearing onthe horizon. They gave three cheers; and this was the last that washeard of them, except by such as met them in the plain, where they sang,as they walked, the words of their chief's proclamation. In negrofashion, they had set it to music; and very well it sounded, when sungfrom the heart.

  In the town, the soldiers were busy removing the guns, and all signs ofwarfare, and the inhabitants in preparing for the fete of to-morrow.During the night, the hurry of footsteps never ceased--so many of thecitizens were going out into the country, and returning with blossomingshrubs to adorn the churches, and flowers with which to strew the pathof the Deliverer. Under cover of these zealous preparations diddiscontent, like a serpent under the blossoms of the meadow, prepare tofix its poisonous tooth. There were men abroad in the streets wholooked upon these preparations for rejoicing with a determination thatthe rejoicings should never take place.

  The business of this arduous day being finished, Toussaint had retiredearly to rest, in a chamber in the south wing of Government-house--thepart which had been inhabited by the French functionaries. He wouldallow no one to occupy any apartments of the north wing (that which wasappropriated to the governor of the town), while the daughter of thelate governor and her guests remained there. His secretary, who hadtaken some hours' rest before, was busy writing, after midnight, in anapartment in the same wing. He was preparing dispatches for the CentralAssembly, now sitting in the interior.

  Monsieur Pascal was far from being on good terms with himself thisnight. If, in the morning, he had doubted his capacity for beinggovernor of the town, he this night doubted his qualifications for theoffice of secretary, which he had thus far filled to his ownsatisfaction. To-night he could not command his ideas--he could not fixhis attention. He wrote a paragraph, and then he dreamed; he planned aproposition, and then he forgot it again; and, in despair, started up topace the floor, and disperse intrusive thoughts by exercise. Thesethoughts would intrude again, however; and he found himself listlesslywatching through the window a waving treetop, or a sinking star, whilehis pen dried in his hand.

  These intrusive ideas were of Afra. He had never thought of love, inregard to himself, even enough to despise it, or to resolve against it:and the time was apparently come when love was to revenge himself forthis neglect. Perhaps it was this idea, as much as the attractions ofAfra herself, that haunted him to-night. He felt that his hour wascome; that he was henceforth, like other men, to be divided between twopursuits, to be dependent upon another for his tranquillity. He feltalready that he could never again see Mademoiselle Raymond, or hear ofher, without emotion. He had never understood love at first sight, andhad hardly believed in it:--he now did not understand it; but he couldnot but believe in it. He felt actually haunted. Every breath of airthat whispered in the window brought her voice. Everything that movedin the night breeze made him start as if it was herself. At last, indespair about his task, which must be finished before dawn, he coveredhis eyes with his hands, as he leaned back in his chair, resolving notto move till he had ascertained what it was that he wanted to writenext.

  A slight noise in the direction of the door, however, made him look up;and he saw, advancing towards the light, no other than Afra herself. Itwas no wonder that he sat upright in his chair, his pale face paler thanusual. In another moment, however, he blushed to the temples on hearinga suppressed laugh from some one who stood behind Afra, and who said,after some vain attempts to speak for laughing--

  "M. Pascal takes us for ghosts."

  "By no means, Mademoiselle Revel. Ghosts do not wrap themselves inshawls from the night air, I believe; nor come in at the door when theshorter way is through the wall; or take a seat when asked, as I hopeyou will do." And he placed chairs as he spoke.

  "We might have frightened you delightfully if we could have looked halfas ghost-like as you did, the first moment you saw us. Perhaps it wasthe lamp--"

  "Hush! Euphrosyne," said Afra. "You speak too loud, and waste time.Remember what we came for. Monsieur Pascal," she said, in a low voice,leaning towards him over the table, and refusing to sit down, "how isL'Ouverture guarded?"

  "Not at all, I believe. Why?"

  The girls made a gesture of terror. Both said eagerly--

  "He is in great danger; indeed, indeed he is."

  "Where are the soldiers?" asked Euphrosyne. "Do send for them directly:and ask him to lock himself up in the safest place till they come."

  "Tell me what you mean, and then--"

  "I think he is in danger, now the white rulers are gone, from the peopleof my colour," said Afra: "and I fear, this very night."

  "Do you mean that they intend to murder him?"

  "Perhaps so. Perhaps to seize him, and send him to Rigaud;--and thatwill be only a slower murder."

  "But how--"

  "I will tell you. Euphrosyne and I sat rather late behind thejalousies, in the dark, to see the people bring in flowers and fruitfrom the country for the morning. I saw many mulattoes in the walk; butnone of them had fruit or flowers. I watched them. I know their ways,their countenances, and their gestures. I saw they were gloomy andangry; and I found out that it is with L'Ouverture. They were plottingmischief, I am certain."

  "But why so suddenly?--why to-night?"

  "So we thought at first; and we went to rest, intending to tellL'Ouverture to-morrow. But the more we thought and talked about it, themore uneasy we grew. We were afraid to go to sleep without telling someone in this wing; so we stole along the corridors in the dark, and sawthat there was a light in this library, and ventured to look in, hopingit might be L'Ouverture himself."

  "He is asleep in a room near. I will waken him. You are not afraid tostay here a few moments, while I am gone?"

  "Oh, no."

  "He may wish to question you himself."

  "Tell him," said Afra, speaking rapidly, "that the mulattoes are jealousof him, because they think he wants to have all the power in his ownhands. They say--`There go the ships! There are no whites in powernow. So much the better! But here is Raymond displaced, andL'Ouverture is all in all. We shall have every office filled withblacks; and the only chance for our degraded colour is in the fields orin the removal of this black.' Tell him this: but oh! be sure you tellhim my father and I do not agree in one word of it."

  "She would do anything in the world to save him," said Euphrosyne.

  "You are dear as a daughter to him," said Monsieur Pascal, with eyes oflove, as he left them.

  "I wish I was sure of that," said Afra. "But what can be done,Euphrosyne? He has no guard! And my father is not here, nor any one tohelp us! I fancy every moment I hear them coming."

  "I am not much afraid," said Euphrosyne, her teeth chattering all thewhile. "He is so powerful! He never seems to want anybody to protect--scarcely to help him."

  "But asleep! After midnight! Think of it! If they should seize himand bind him before he is awake!"

  This fear was removed by his appearance, dressed, and like himself. Hesmiled at the girls, offered them each an arm, and said he had a sightto show them, if they would look at it without speaking. He led them inthe dark to a window, whence they looked down upon a courtyard, whichwas full of soldiers, awake and armed. In another moment, Toussaint wasconducting them along the corridors, towards their own apartments, "Youknew!" whispered Afra. "We need not have come. I believe you alwaysknow everything."

  "I suspected a plan
to prevent the publishing of the amnesty to-morrow,and the filling up the offices of the colony with blacks. I suspected,but was not certain. Your intelligence has confirmed me."

  "What will happen?" asked Euphrosyne, trembling. "Will anybody bekilled?"

  "Not to-night, I trust. You may go to rest secure that no blood will bespilled to-night; and to-morrow, you know, is a holy-day. If you hear astep in the corridor of this your wing, do not be alarmed. I am goingto send one of my own guard."

  He left them at their door, after standing to hear them fasten itinside.

  The girls kept awake as long as they could, calling each other'sattention to every fancied noise. They could be sure of nothing,however, but of the march of the sentinel along the corridor. They bothslept at last, and were wakened in broad daylight by the gouvernante,who entered in great trepidation, to say that there had been a plotagainst the Commander-in-chief;--that the window of his chamber had beenentered at two o'clock by a party of mulattoes, who had all been seizedby L'Ouverture's soldiers. How it came to end so--how soldiers enoughhappened to be at hand at the right moment--how it was all done withoutfighting, without noise enough even to break her rest (and she alwaysknow if anybody stirred)--the gouvernante could not tell. All she knewwas, that L'Ouverture was the most considerate creature in the world.As soon as the eleven mulattoes who had been taken were put intoconfinement, L'Ouverture had sent one of his own guards into hercorridor to prevent her being alarmed for herself and her young charge.