II

  Floreal took up his residence across the border. The countries had longbeen at war, so he found reason to change his name. He likewise changedhis language, although that was not so easily accomplished, and then,since he had been born of the sea, he returned to it. But he could notbring himself to utterly forsake the island of his birth, for twice ayear, when the seasons changed, when the trades died and the hot landssent their odors reeking through the night, he felt a hungry yearningfor Hayti. During these periods of lifeless heat his impulses ran wild;at these times his habits changed and he became violent, nocturnal. Ashe thought of Petithomme Laguerre he bit his wrists in an agony ofrecollection. Women shunned him, men said to one another:

  "This Inocencio is a person of uncertain temper. He has a bad eye."

  "Whence did he come?" others inquired. "He is not one of us."

  "From Jamaica, or the Barbadoes, perhaps. He has much evil in him."

  "And yet he makes no enemies."

  "Nor friends."

  "Um-m! A peculiar fellow. A man of passion--one can see it in his face."

  Hayti had become quiet once more--as quiet as could be expected--and theformer colonel of tirailleurs had prospered. He was now "GeneralPetithomme Laguerre, Commandant of the Arrondissement of the South," andthe echo of his name crept eastward along the coast, even to Azua.

  The bitterness of this news finally sent Inocencio seaward in abarkentine, the business of which was not above suspicion. He cruisedthrough the Virgin Islands, on around the Leewards and the Windwards,seeing something of the world and tasting of its wickedness. A yearlater, at Trinidad, he fell in with a Portuguese half-breed, captain ofa schooner bound on hazardous business, and, inasmuch as high wages werepromised, he shipped. Followed adventures of many sorts, during whichInocencio became a mate, but made no friends.

  One night when the moon was full and the schooner lay becalmed there wasdrinking and gambling in the little cabin. It was the change of theseasons, before the rains had come; the air was close; the ship reekedwith odors. Inocencio played like a demon, for his heart was fierce, andthe cards befriended him. All night he and the Portuguese half-breedshuffled and dealt, drank rum, and cursed each other. When daylight camethe schooner had changed hands.

  * * * * *

  Colon sits on the southern shore of the Caribbean, and through it driftsa current of traffic from many seas. It is like the riffle of a sluiceor the catch-basin of a sewer, gathering all the sediment carried by thestream, and thither Captain Inocencio headed, drawn on the tide. It wasat the time of the French fiasco, when De Lesseps's name was powerful,and when Colon was the wickedest, sickest city of the WesternHemisphere.

  Into the harbor came Inocencio's schooner, pelting ahead of the stifftrade-winds that blew like the draught from an electric fan, and therethe Haytian stayed, for in Colon he found work that suited him. There heheard the echo of tremendous undertakings; there he learned newrascalities, and met men from other lands who were homeless, likehimself; there he tasted of the white man's wickedness, and beheld formsof corruption that were strange to him. The nights were ribald and thedays were drear, for fever stalked the streets, but Inocencio wasimmune, and for the first time he enjoyed himself.

  But he was solitary in his habits; the festering town, with itsgreen-slimed sewers and its filthy streets, did not appeal to him, so hetook up his abode on the shore of a little bay close behind, where agrove of palm-trees overhung a sandy beach. Just across a mangrove swampat his back was the city; before him lay his schooner, her bowspritpointing seaward. Day and night it pointed seaward, like a resolutefinger; pointed toward Hayti and--Pierrine.

  In time the mulatto acquired a reputation and gathered a crew ofruffians over whom he tyrannized. There were women in his camp, too,'Bajans, Sant' Lucians, and wenches from the other isles, but neitherthey nor their powdered sisters along the back streets of Colon appealedto Inocencio very long, for sooner or later there always came to him thememory of a yellow girl with a scar beneath her eye, and thoughts of herbrought pictures of a blue-and-gold negro colonel and an old man hangingby the wrists. Then it was that he felt a slow flame licking at histendons, and his hatred blazed up so suddenly that the women fled fromhim, bearing marks of his fingers on their flesh.

  Sometimes he sailed away and was gone for weeks. When he returned hiscrew told stories of aimless visits to the Haytian coast in which thereappeared to be neither reason nor profit, since they neither took norfetched a cargo. These journeys came at regular intervals, as if therearrived upon the hurrying trades a call that took him northward, justbefore the seasons changed.

  His helpers retailed other gossip also, rumors of a coming revolution inthe Republic, tales of the great general, Petithomme Laguerre, who hadaims upon the Presidency. Inocencio's ears were open, and what he heardstirred his rage, but he was not a brilliant man, and his brain, unusedto strategy, refused to counsel him. For five years he had studied thematter incessantly, nursing his hate and searching for a means tosatisfy it. Then, as if born of the lightning, he saw his way.

  He consulted a French clerk in the Canal offices, and between them theycontrived a letter which ran as follows:

  To His Excellency, General Petithomme Laguerre, Commandant of the Arrondissement of the South, Jacmel, Republic of Hayti.

  GENERAL,--The bearer, Inocencio Ruiz, of Cartagena, master of the schooner _Stella_, will consult you upon a matter of extreme delicacy which concerns the sale of two hundred rifles. These arms, of latest model, were consigned to this port, but under the existing relations of amity between the French and Colombian governments they cannot be used. Knowing your patriotism and the zeal with which you safeguard the welfare of your country, the writer makes bold to offer these arms to you, as agent of the Haytian government, at a low figure. Captain Ruiz, a man of discretion, is empowered to discuss the matter with you at greater length.

  In full appreciation of your supreme qualities as a soldier and statesman, it is with admiration that I salute you.

  Respectfully, ANTOINE LEBLANC.

  When the letter was finally read to Inocencio he nodded; but the Frenchclerk said, doubtfully:

  "This Laguerre is a man of force, I believe. I should not care to triflewith him in this way."

  "I, too, am a man of force," said the mulatto.

  "He is your enemy?"

  "To the death."

  The white man shook his head. "Danger lurks along the Haytian coast;many things happen there, for the people are barbarians. I should preferto forgive this Petithomme rather than oppose him, even though he weremy enemy."

  Inocencio scowled. "When I die I shall have no enemies to forgive, for Ishall have killed them all," he said, simply.

  * * * * *

  Jacmel lay white in the blazing sun as the _Stella_ dropped anchor. Thetrades were failing, and the schooner drifted slowly under a full spreadof canvas. Near where she came to rest lay a Haytian gunboat,ill-painted, ill-manned, ill-disciplined, and Inocencio regarded herwith some concern, for her presence was a thing he had not counted upon.It argued either that Laguerre had won the support of her commander orthat she had been sent by the government as a check upon his activities.In either event she was a menace.

  A band was playing in the square, and there were many soldiers.Inocencio did not go ashore. Instead he sent the letter by a member ofhis crew, a giant 'Bajan whom he trusted, and with it he sent word thathe hoped to meet His Excellency, General Laguerre, that evening at acertain drinking-place near the water-front.

  The sailor returned at dusk with news that set his captain's eyes aglow.Jacmel was alive with troops; there had been a review that veryafternoon and the populace had hailed the commandant as President. Onall sides there was talk of revolution; the whole south country hadenrolled beneath the banner of revolt. The gunboat was Laguerre's; allHayti craved a change; the old familiar race cr
y had been raised and themulattoes were in terror of another massacre. But the regular troopswere badly armed and the perusal of Inocencio's letter had filled thegeneral with joy.

  Captain Ruiz was early at the meeting-place, but he waited patiently,drinking rum and listening to the chatter of the street. His Spanishaccent, his identity as the master of the schooner in the offing, and,above all, his threatening eyes, won him a tolerance which the warlikeblacks did not accord to Haytians of his color; therefore he was notmolested. He soon confirmed his sailor's story; revolution was indeed inthe air; the country was seething with unrest. Many houses already hadbeen burned--sure token of an uprising. The soldiers had had a taste ofpillage and persecution. The streets were thronged with them now;merchants were on guard before their shops; from every side came thesounds of revelry and quarreling.

  Laguerre arrived, finally, a huge, forbidding man of martial bearing,and he was heralded by cheers. He was much older and infinitely prouderthan when Inocencio had seen him. His uniform had been blue at thattime, but now it was parrot-green; his epaulettes were broader, thegolden braid and dangling loops were heavier, and he was fat from easyliving. With age and power he had coarsened, but his eyes were stillbloodshot and domineering.

  "Captain Ruiz?" he inquired, pausing before the yellow man.

  "Your Excellency!" Inocencio rose and saluted. The seaman's eyes weresmoldering, but his lips were cold, for he felt the dread ofrecognition.

  Time, it seemed, had dulled the sharp outlines of Laguerre's memory asit had changed the younger man's features, for he continued,unsuspectingly:

  "You are the agent of Monsieur Leblanc, I believe."

  "The same."

  "Good! Now these rifles--you have them near by?"

  "Within gunshot, Excellency. They are in the harbor at this moment."

  Laguerre's face lighted. "Ha! A man of business, this Leblanc. You willfix the price, as I understand it."

  There followed a certain amount of bickering, during which the generalallowed himself to be worsted. He agreed weakly to Inocencio's terms,having already decided to appropriate the God-sent cargo withoutpayment. The latter had counted upon this, and, moreover, he hadrightfully construed the light in those bloodshot eyes.

  "Monsieur le General must see these rifles for himself, to appreciatethem, and he must count them, too, else how can he know that I am notdeceiving him? We must observe caution, for there may be spies--"Inocencio spoke craftily.

  "Pah! Spies? In Jacmel?"

  "Nevertheless, there is a gunboat in the harbor and she flies the flagof the Republic. My skiff is waiting; we will slip out and backagain--in an hour the inspection will be completed. You must see thoserifles with your own eyes, Excellency. They are wonderful--the equal ofany in the world; no troops can stand before them. They aremagnificent."

  "Come!" said Laguerre, rising.

  "But alone!" Inocencio displayed a worthy circumspection. "This ishazardous business. That war-ship with the flag of the Republic--myemployer is a man of reputation."

  "Very well." Laguerre dismissed an aide who had remained at a distanceduring the interview, and together the two set out.

  "You arrived barely in time, for we march to-morrow," said the general;"at least we march within the week. My defiance has gone forth. Mycountry cries for her defender. There will be bloody doings, for I tellyou the temper of the people is roused and they have no stomach for thattyrant at Port au Prince."

  "Bloody doings!" Inocencio smiled admiringly upon his companion. "Andwho could cope with them better than yourself? You have a reputation,Excellency. The name of Petithomme Laguerre is known, even in mycountry."

  "Indeed!" The black general's chest swelled.

  "We have heroes of our own--men who have bathed in blood defending ourrights--but our soldiers are only soldiers, they are not statesmen. Weare not so fortunate as Hayti. We would welcome, we would idolize such aone. Would that we had him; would that we boasted a--PetithommeLaguerre."

  The hearer was immensely gratified at this flattery and he straightenedhimself pompously, saying:

  "But we are favored by God, we Haytians, and we have bred a race ofgiants. We have gained our proud position among the nations at the priceof blood. Believe me, we are not ordinary men. Our soldiers are braverthan lions, our armies are the admiration of the world, we have reachedthat level for which God created us. It requires strong hands to guidesuch a people. My country calls. I am her servant."

  The moon was round and brilliant as they walked out upon the rottingwharf--all wharves in Hayti are decayed--the night had grown still, andthrough it came the gentle whisper of the tide, mingled with the babelfrom the town. Land odors combined with the pungent stench of the harborin a scent which caused Inocencio's nostrils to quiver and memory tognaw at him. He cast a worried look skyward, and in his ungodly soulprayed for wind, for a breeze, for a gentle zephyr which would put hisvengeance in his hands.

  He had dropped anchor well offshore, hence the row was long, but as theyneared the _Stella_ a breath came out of the open. It was hot, stifling,as if a furnace door had opened, and the yellow man smiled grimly intothe night.

  The crew were sleeping on the deck as the two came overside, but atsight of that glittering apparition of green and gold they rubbed theireyes open and stared in speechless amazement. They were recklessfellows, fit for any enterprise, but Inocencio had learned to keep asilent tongue, so they knew nothing of his present plans. They heard himsaying:

  "Into the cabin, Monsieur le General, if you will be so good. It isdark, yes, but there will be a light presently, and then--a sight forany soldier's eyes! Something that will gladden the heart of anypatriot!" They went below, leaving the sailors open-mouthed. "Amiserable place, Excellency," came the soft voice, "but the Cause! ForHayti one would suffer--A match, if you will be so kind. The lamp is atyour hand." The skylight glowed a faint yellow, then was brightlyilluminated. "For Hayti one would endure--much."

  There followed the sound of a blow, of a heavy fall, then a loud,ferocious cry, and a subdued scuffling, during which the crew stared atone another. The giant 'Bajan crept forward finally and was met byInocencio, emerging from the cabin. The captain was smiling, and hecarefully closed the hatch before he gave orders to make sail.

  The breeze was faint, so the schooner gathered headway slowly, but asthe lights of Jacmel and of the anchored gunboat faded out asternInocencio sat upon the deck-house and drummed with his naked heels uponthe cabin wall. He lit one cigarette after another, and the helmsman sawthat he was laughing silently.

  * * * * *

  Dawn broke in an explosion of many colors. The sun rushed up out of thesea as if pursued; night fled, and in its place was a blistering day,full grown. The breeze had died, however, and the _Stella_ wallowed in aglassy calm, her sails slatting, her booms creaking, her gearcomplaining to the drunken roll. The slow swells heeled her first to oneside, then to the other, the decks grew burning hot; no faintest ripplestirred the undulating surface of the Caribbean. Afar, the Haytian hillswavered and danced through a veil of heat. The slender topmast describedlong measured arcs across the sky, like a schoolmaster's pointer; fromits peak the halyards whipped and bellied.

  "Captain!" The 'Bajan waited for recognition. "Captain!" Inocenciolooked up finally. "There--toward Jacmel--there is smoke. See! We havebeen watching it."

  The mulatto nodded.

  "The smoke of a ship."

  "Ah! A ship!" Inocencio smiled and the negro recoiled suddenly. Allnight long the master of the _Stella_ had sat upon the deck-house,staring at the sea and smoking. At times he had laughed and whispered tosome one whom the helmsman could not see, but this was the first time hehad smiled at any member of his crew. In fact, it was the first time thesailor had ever seen him smile. The 'Bajan withdrew and went forward toconsult with his fellows. They eyed their employer curiously, fearfully,for much had happened to alarm them, not the least of which had been afurious commotion from below. Frightful cu
rses had issued from thecabin, threats which had caused their limbs to tremble, but they hadaffected the captain like soothing music. It was very strange. It causedthe sailors to look with concern upon that thin, low streamer in thedistance; it led them to go aft in a body finally and speak their minds.

  "The smoke is growing larger," they declared, and Inocencio rousedhimself sufficiently to look. "It is the war-ship. We are pursued. Whois this big man below?"

  "He is a--friend of mine, Petithomme Laguerre--"

  "Laguerre!"

  "What did I tell you?" exclaimed the 'Bajan, breathlessly.

  "What shall we do?" one of them inquired in a panic. "That smoke! Thewind has forsaken us." He shuffled his bare feet uncomfortably. "We willbe shot for this."

  Inocencio tossed away his cigarette and rose; he lifted his eyes aloft.The slim topmast arrested his attention as it swept across the sky, andhe watched it for a moment; then to the giant sailor he said: "You willfind a new rope forward. Make it fast to the end of this halyard and runit through yonder block." He slid back the hatch and descended leisurelyinto the cabin.

  Laguerre was sitting in a chair with his arms and legs securely bound,but he had succeeded in working considerable havoc with the furnishingsof the place as well as with his splendid uniform. His lips foamed, hiseyes protruded at sight of his captor; a trickle of blood from his scalplent him a ferocious appearance.

  Inocencio seated himself, and the two men stared at each other acrossthe bare table.

  Laguerre spoke first, his tongue thick, his voice hoarse from yelling.Inocencio listened with fixed, unwavering gaze.

  "You tricked me neatly," the former raved. "You are a government spy, Ipresume. The government feared me. Well, then, it was bold work, but youwill listen to what I say now. We will settle this matter quickly, youand I. I have money. You can name your price."

  The hearer curled his thin lips. "So! You have money. You offer to buyyour life. Old Julien had no money; he was poor."

  Petithomme did not understand. "I am too powerful to remain in prison,"he declared. "The President would not dare harm me; no man dares harmme; but I am willing to pay you--"

  "All Hayti could not buy your life, Laguerre!"

  Some tone of voice, some haunting familiarity of feature, set theprisoner's memory to groping blindly. At last he inquired, "Who areyou?"

  "I am Floreal."

  The name meant nothing. Laguerre's life was black; many Floreals hadfigured in it.

  "You do not remember me?"

  "N-no, and yet--"

  "Perhaps you will remember another--a woman. She had a scar, just here."The speaker laid a tobacco-stained finger upon his left cheek-bone, andLaguerre noticed for the first time that the wrist beneath it was maimedas from a burn. "It was a little scar and it was brown, in thecandle-light. She was young and round and her body was soft--" Themulatto's lean face was suddenly distorted in a horrible grimace whichhe intended for a smile. "She was my wife, Laguerre, by the Church, andyou took her. She died, but she had a child--your child."

  The huge black figure shrank into its green-and-gold panoply, thebloodshot eyes rested upon Inocencio with a look of terrifiedrecognition.

  "I have no children, Laguerre; no wife; no home! I am poor and you havebecome great. There was an old man whom you stretched by the wrists, inthe moonlight. Do you remember him? And the old woman, my mother, whomone of your soldiers shot? Maximilien did it, but I killed him andCongo! And now there is only you."

  "That was--long ago." The prisoner rolled his eyes desperately; hisvoice was uncertain as he whined, "I am rich--richer than anybodyknows."

  "Others had more money than we, eh?"

  The general nodded.

  "Pierrine is dead, and you would have been the President. It is wellthat I came in time." Again Captain Ruiz smiled, and the corpulentsoldier was shaken loosely as by an invisible hand. "Come now! Yourfriends are approaching and I must prepare you to greet them."

  He untied the knots at Laguerre's ankles, then motioned him toward thecabin door.

  That streamer of smoke had grown; it was a black smudge against the skywhen the two gained the deck, and at sight of it the general shouted:

  "My ship! The gunboat! Ho! If harm comes to me--"

  Inocencio took one end of the new rope which had been run through theblock at the masthead, and knotted it about his prisoner's wrists, thenwith his knife he severed the other bonds.

  "Give way!" he ordered.

  The crew held back, at which he turned upon them so savagely that theyhastened to obey. They put their weight upon the line; Laguerre's armswere whisked above his head, he felt his feet leave the deck. He wasdumb with surprise, choked with rage at this indignity, but he did notunderstand its significance.

  "Up with him! In a rush!" cried the captain, and hand over hand thesailors hauled in, while upward in a series of jerks went PetithommeLaguerre. The schooner listed and he swung outward; he tried to entwinehis legs in the shrouds, but failed, and he continued to rise until hisfeet had cleared the crosstree.

  "Make fast!" Inocencio ordered.

  Laguerre was hanging like a huge plumbob now, and as the schooner heeledto starboard he swung out, farther and farther, until there was nothingbeneath him but the glassy sea. He screamed at this, and kicked andcapered; the slender topmast sprung to his antics. Then the vesselrighted herself, and as she did so the man at the rope's end began aswift and fearful journey. Not until that instant did his fate becomeapparent to him, but when he saw what was in store for him he ceased tocry out. He fixed his eyes upon the mast toward which the weight of hisbody propelled him, he drew himself upward by his arms, he flung out hislegs to break the impact. The _Stella_ lifted by the bow and he clearedthe spar by a few inches. Onward he rushed, to the pause that marked thelimit of his flight to port, then slowly, but with increasing swiftness,he began his return journey. Again he resisted furiously and again hisbody missed the mast, all but one shoulder, which brushed lightly inpassing and served to spin him like a top. The measured slowness of thatoscillation added to its horror; with every escape the victim's strengthdecreased, his fear grew, and the end approached. It was a game ofchance played by the hand of the sea. Under him the deck appeared anddisappeared at regular intervals, the rope cut into his wrists, the slimspar sprung to his efforts. In the distance was a charcoal smear whichgrew blacker.

  After a time Laguerre heard Inocencio counting, and saw his upturnedface.

  "Ha! Very close, Monsieur le General, but we will try once again. Ship'stimber is not so hard as cocomacaque, but sufficiently hard,nevertheless. And the rope bites, eh? But there was old Julien--What?Again? You were always lucky. His flesh was cold and his bones brittle,yet he did not kick like you. If Pierrine were here to see this! What asight--the liberator of his country--God's blood, Laguerre! The sea iswith you! That makes five times. But you are tiring, I see. What a sightfor her--the hero of a hundred battles dangling like a strangled parrot.It is not so hard to die, monsieur, it--Ah-h!"

  A cry of horror arose from the crew who had gathered forward, forPetithomme Laguerre, dizzied with spinning, had finally fetched up witha crash against the mast. He ricocheted, the swing of the pendulumbecame irregular for a time or two, then the roll of the vessel set itgoing again. Time after time he missed destruction by a hair's-breadth,while the voice from below gibed at him, then once more there came thesound of a blow, dull, yet loud, and of a character to make the hearersshudder. The victim struggled less violently; he no longer drew hisweight upward like a gymnast. But he was a man of great vitality; hisbones were heavy and thickly padded with flesh, therefore they broke oneby one, and death came to him slowly. The sea played with himmaliciously, saving him repeatedly, only to thresh him the harder whenit had tired of its sport. It was a long time before the restlessCaribbean had reduced him to pulp, a spineless, boneless thing of puttywhich danced to the spring of the resilient spruce.

  They let him down finally and slid him into the oily waters, overside,
but the breeze refused to come and the _Stella_ continued to wallowdrunkenly. The sky was glittering, the pitch was oozing from the deck,in the distance the Haytian mountains scowled through the shimmer.

  Inocencio turned toward the approaching gunboat, which was very close bynow, a rusty, ill-painted, ill-manned tub. Her blunt nose broke theswells into foam, from her peak depended the banner of the BlackRepublic, symbolic of the motto, "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity." Thecaptain of the _Stella_ rolled and lit a cigarette, then seated himselfupon the cabin roof to wait. And as he waited he drummed with his nakedheels and smiled, for he was satisfied.

  INOCENCIO