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35025	----	Self-Determining Haiti BY JAMES WELDON JOHNSON Four articles reprinted from _The Nation_ embodying a report of an investigation made for THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION FOR THE ADVANCEMENT OF COLORED PEOPLE _Together with Official Documents_ 25 cents a copy Copyright, 1920 By THE NATION, Inc. FOREWORD The articles and documents in this pamphlet were printed in _The Nation_ during the summer of 1920. They revealed for the first time to the world the nature of the United States' imperialistic venture in Haiti. While, owing to the censorship, the full story of this fundamental departure from American traditions has not yet been told, it appears at the time of this writing, October, 1920, that "pitiless publicity" for our sandbagging of a friendly and inoffensive neighbor has been achieved. The report of Major-General George Barnett, commandant of the Marine Corps during the first four years of the Haitian occupation, just issued, strikingly confirms the facts set forth by _The Nation_ and refutes the denials of administration officials and their newspaper apologists. It is in the hope that by spreading broadly the truth about what has happened in Haiti under five years of American occupation _The Nation_ may further contribute toward removing a dark blot from the American escutcheon, that this pamphlet is issued. Self-Determining Haiti By JAMES WELDON JOHNSON I. THE AMERICAN OCCUPATION To know the reasons for the present political situation in Haiti, to understand why the United States landed and has for five years maintained military forces in that country, why some three thousand Haitian men, women, and children have been shot down by American rifles and machine guns, it is necessary, among other things, to know that the National City Bank of New York is very much interested in Haiti. It is necessary to know that the National City Bank controls the National Bank of Haiti and is the depository for all of the Haitian national funds that are being collected by American officials, and that Mr. R. L. Farnham, vice-president of the National City Bank, is virtually the representative of the State Department in matters relating to the island republic. Most Americans have the opinion--if they have any opinion at all on the subject--that the United States was forced, on purely humane grounds, to intervene in the black republic because of the tragic coup d'etat which resulted in the overthrow and death of President Vilbrun Guillaume Sam and the execution of the political prisoners confined at Port-au-Prince, July 27-28, 1915; and that this government has been compelled to keep a military force in Haiti since that time to pacify the country and maintain order. The fact is that for nearly a year before forcible intervention on the part of the United States this government was seeking to compel Haiti to submit to "peaceable" intervention. Toward the close of 1914 the United States notified the government of Haiti that it was disposed to recognize the newly-elected president, Theodore Davilmar, as soon as a Haitian commission would sign at Washington "satisfactory protocols" relative to a convention with the United States on the model of the Dominican-American Convention. On December 15, 1914, the Haitian government, through its Secretary of Foreign Affairs, replied: "The Government of the Republic of Haiti would consider itself lax in its duty to the United States and to itself if it allowed the least doubt to exist of its irrevocable intention not to accept any control of the administration of Haitian affairs by a foreign Power." On December 19, the United States, through its legation at Port-au-Prince, replied, that in expressing its willingness to do in Haiti what had been done in Santo Domingo it "was actuated entirely by a disinterested desire to give assistance." Two months later, the Theodore government was overthrown by a revolution and Vilbrun Guillaume was elected president. Immediately afterwards there arrived at Port-au-Prince an American commission from Washington--the Ford mission. The commissioners were received at the National Palace and attempted to take up the discussion of the convention that had been broken off in December, 1914. However, they lacked full powers and no negotiations were entered into. After several days, the Ford mission sailed for the United States. But soon after, in May, the United States sent to Haiti Mr. Paul Fuller, Jr., with the title Envoy Extraordinary, on a special mission to apprise the Haitian government that the Guillaume administration would not be recognized by the American government unless Haiti accepted and signed the project of a convention which he was authorized to present. After examining the project the Haitian government submitted to the American commission a counter-project, formulating the conditions under which it would be possible to accept the assistance of the United States. To this counter-project Mr. Fuller proposed certain modifications, some of which were accepted by the Haitian government. On June 5, 1915, Mr. Fuller acknowledged the receipt of the Haitian communication regarding these modifications, and sailed from Port-au-Prince. Before any further discussion of the Fuller project between the two governments, political incidents in Haiti led rapidly to the events of July, 27 and 28. On July 27 President Guillaume fled to the French Legation, and on the same day took place a massacre of the political prisoners in the prison at Port-au-Prince. On the morning of July 28 President Guillaume was forcibly taken from French Legation and killed. On the afternoon of July 28 an American man-of-war dropped anchor in the harbor of Port-au-Prince and landed American forces. It should be borne in mind that through all of this the life of not a single American citizen had been taken or jeopardized. The overthrow of Guillaume and its attending consequences did not constitute the cause of American intervention in Haiti, but merely furnished the awaited opportunity. Since July 28, 1915, American military forces have been in control of Haiti. These forces have been increased until there are now somewhere near three thousand Americans under arms in the republic. From the very first, the attitude of the Occupation has been that it was dealing with a conquered territory. Haitian forces were disarmed, military posts and barracks were occupied, and the National Palace was taken as headquarters for the Occupation. After selecting a new and acceptable president for the country, steps were at once taken to compel the Haitian government to sign a convention in which it virtually foreswore its independence. This was accomplished by September 16, 1915; and although the terms of this convention provided for the administration of the Haitian customs by American civilian officials, all the principal custom houses of the country had been seized by military force and placed in charge of American Marine officers before the end of August. The disposition of the funds collected in duties from the time of the military seizure of the custom houses to the time of their administration by civilian officials is still a question concerning which the established censorship in Haiti allows no discussion. It is interesting to note the wide difference between the convention which Haiti was forced to sign and the convention which was in course of diplomatic negotiation at the moment of intervention. The Fuller convention asked little of Haiti and gave something, the Occupation convention demands everything of Haiti and gives nothing. The Occupation convention is really the same convention which the Haitian government peremptorily refused to discuss in December, 1914, except that in addition to American control of Haitian finances it also provides for American control of the Haitian military forces. The Fuller convention contained neither of these provisions. When the United States found itself in a position to take what it had not even dared to ask, it used brute force and took it. But even a convention which practically deprived Haiti of its independence was found not wholly adequate for the accomplishment of all that was contemplated. The Haitian constitution still offered some embarrassments, so it was decided that Haiti must have a new constitution. It was drafted and presented to the Haitian assembly for adoption. The assembly balked--chiefly at the article in the proposed document removing the constitutional disability which prevented aliens from owning land in Haiti. Haiti had long considered the denial of this right to aliens as her main bulwark against overwhelming economic exploitation; and it must be admitted that she had better reasons than the several states of the United States that have similar provisions. The balking of the assembly resulted in its being dissolved by actual military force and the locking of doors of the Chamber. There has been no Haitian legislative body since. The desired constitution was submitted to a plebiscite by a decree of the President, although such a method of constitutional revision was clearly unconstitutional. Under the circumstances of the Occupation the plebiscite was, of course, almost unanimous for the desired change, and the new constitution was promulgated on June 18, 1918. Thus Haiti was given a new constitution by a flagrantly unconstitutional method. The new document contains several fundamental changes and includes a "Special Article" which declares: All the acts of the Government of the United States during its military Occupation in Haiti are ratified and confirmed. No Haitian shall be liable to civil or criminal prosecution for any act done by order of the Occupation or under its authority. The acts of the courts martial of the Occupation, without, however, infringing on the right to pardon, shall not be subject to revision. The acts of the Executive Power (the President) up to the promulgation of the present constitution are likewise ratified and confirmed. The above is the chronological order of the principal steps by which the independence of a neighboring republic has been taken away, the people placed under foreign military domination from which they have no appeal, and exposed to foreign economic exploitation against which they are defenseless. All of this has been done in the name of the Government of the United States; however, without any act by Congress and without any knowledge of the American people. The law by which Haiti is ruled today is martial law dispensed by Americans. There is a form of Haitian civil government, but it is entirely dominated by the military Occupation. President Dartiguenave, bitterly rebellious at heart as is every good Haitian, confessed to me the powerlessness of himself and his cabinet. He told me that the American authorities give no heed to recommendations made by him or his officers; that they would not even discuss matters about which the Haitian officials have superior knowledge. The provisions of both the old and the new constitutions are ignored in that there is no Haitian legislative body, and there has been none since the dissolution of the Assembly in April, 1916. In its stead there is a Council of State composed of twenty-one members appointed by the president, which functions effectively only when carrying out the will of the Occupation. Indeed the Occupation often overrides the civil courts. A prisoner brought before the proper court, exonerated, and discharged, is, nevertheless, frequently held by the military. All government funds are collected by the Occupation and are dispensed at its will and pleasure. The greater part of these funds is expended for the maintenance of the military forces. There is the strictest censorship of the press. No Haitian newspaper is allowed to publish anything in criticism of the Occupation or the Haitian government. Each newspaper in Haiti received an order to that effect from the Occupation, _and the same order carried the injunction not to print the order_. Nothing that might reflect upon the Occupation administration in Haiti is allowed to reach the newspapers of the United States. The Haitian people justly complain that not only is the convention inimical to the best interests of their country, but that the convention, such as it is, is not being carried out in accordance with the letter, nor in accordance with the spirit in which they were led to believe it would be carried out. Except one, all of the obligations in the convention which the United States undertakes in favor of Haiti are contained in the first article of that document, the other fourteen articles being made up substantially of obligations to the United States assumed by Haiti. But nowhere in those fourteen articles is there anything to indicate that Haiti would be subjected to military domination. In Article I the United States promises to "aid the Haitian government in the proper and efficient development of its agricultural, mineral, and commercial resources and in the establishment of the finances of Haiti on a firm and solid basis." And the whole convention and, especially, the protestations of the United States before the signing of the instrument can be construed only to mean that that aid would be extended through the supervision of civilian officials. The one promise of the United States to Haiti not contained in the first article of the convention is that clause of Article XIV which says, "and, should the necessity occur, the United States will lend an efficient aid for the preservation of Haitian independence and the maintenance of a government adequate for the protection of life, property, and individual liberty." It is the extreme of irony that this clause which the Haitians had a right to interpret as a guarantee to them against foreign invasion should first of all be invoked against the Haitian people themselves, and offer the only peg on which any pretense to a right of military domination can be hung. There are several distinct forces--financial, military, bureaucratic--at work in Haiti which, tending to aggravate the conditions they themselves have created, are largely self-perpetuating. The most sinister of these, the financial engulfment of Haiti by the National City Bank of New York, already alluded to, will be discussed in detail in a subsequent article. The military Occupation has made and continues to make military Occupation necessary. The justification given is that it is necessary for the pacification of the country. Pacification would never have been necessary had not American policies been filled with so many stupid and brutal blunders; and it will never be effective so long as "pacification" means merely the hunting of ragged Haitians in the hills with machine guns. Then there is the force which the several hundred American civilian place-holders constitute. They have found in Haiti the veritable promised land of "jobs for deserving democrats" and naturally do not wish to see the present status discontinued. Most of these deserving democrats are Southerners. The head of the customs service of Haiti was a clerk of one of the parishes of Louisiana. Second in charge of the customs service of Haiti is a man who was Deputy Collector of Customs at Pascagoula, Mississippi [population, 3,379, 1910 Census]. The Superintendent of Public Instruction was a school teacher in Louisiana--a State which has not good schools even for white children; the financial advisor, Mr. McIlhenny, is also from Louisiana. Many of the Occupation officers are in the same category with the civilian place-holders. These men have taken their wives and families to Haiti. Those at Port-au-Prince live in beautiful villas. Families that could not keep a hired girl in the United States have a half-dozen servants. They ride in automobiles--not their own. Every American head of a department in Haiti has an automobile furnished at the expense of the Haitian Government, whereas members of the Haitian cabinet, who are theoretically above them, have no such convenience or luxury. While I was there, the President himself was obliged to borrow an automobile from the Occupation for a trip through the interior. The Louisiana school-teacher Superintendent of Instruction has an automobile furnished at government expense, whereas the Haitian Minister of Public Instruction, his supposed superior officer, has none. These automobiles seem to be chiefly employed in giving the women and children an airing each afternoon. It must be amusing, when it is not maddening to the Haitians, to see with what disdainful air these people look upon them as they ride by. The platform adopted by the Democratic party at San Francisco said of the Wilson policy in Mexico: The Administration, remembering always that Mexico is an independent nation and that permanent stability in her government and her institutions could come only from the consent of her own people to a government of her own making, has been unwilling either to profit by the misfortunes of the people of Mexico or to enfeeble their future by imposing from the outside a rule upon their temporarily distracted councils. Haiti has never been so distracted in its councils as Mexico. And even in its moments of greatest distraction it never slaughtered an American citizen, it never molested an American woman, it never injured a dollar's worth of American property. And yet, the Administration whose lofty purpose was proclaimed as above--with less justification than Austria's invasion of Serbia, or Germany's rape of Belgium, without warrant other than the doctrine that "might makes right," has conquered Haiti. It has done this through the very period when, in the words of its chief spokesman, our sons were laying down their lives overseas "for democracy, for the rights of those who submit to authority to have a voice in their own government, for the rights and liberties of small nations." By command of the author of "pitiless publicity" and originator of "open covenants openly arrived at," it has enforced by the bayonet a covenant whose secret has been well guarded by a rigid censorship from the American nation, and kept a people enslaved by the military tyranny which it was his avowed purpose to destroy throughout the world. _From The Nation of August 25, 1920._ II. WHAT THE UNITED STATES HAS ACCOMPLISHED When the truth about the conquest of Haiti--the slaughter of three thousand and practically unarmed Haitians, with the incidentally needless death of a score of American boys--begins to filter through the rigid Administration censorship to the American people, the apologists will become active. Their justification of what has been done will be grouped under two heads: one, the necessity, and two, the results. Under the first, much stress will be laid upon the "anarchy" which existed in Haiti, upon the backwardness of the Haitians and their absolute unfitness to govern themselves. The pretext which caused the intervention was taken up in the first article of this series. The characteristics, alleged and real, of the Haitian people will be taken up in a subsequent article. Now as to results: The apologists will attempt to show that material improvements in Haiti justify American intervention. Let us see what they are. Diligent inquiry reveals just three: The building of the road from Port-au-Prince to Cape Haitien; the enforcement of certain sanitary regulations in the larger cities; and the improvement of the public hospital at Port-au-Prince. The enforcement of certain sanitary regulations is not so important as it may sound, for even under exclusive native rule, Haiti has been a remarkably healthy country and had never suffered from such epidemics as used to sweep Cuba and the Panama Canal region. The regulations, moreover, were of a purely minor character--the sort that might be issued by a board of health in any American city or town--and were in no wise fundamental, because there was no need. The same applies to the improvement of the hospital, long before the American Occupation, an effectively conducted institution but which, it is only fair to say, benefited considerably by the regulations and more up-to-date methods of American army surgeons--the best in the world. Neither of these accomplishments, however, creditable as they are, can well be put forward as a justification for military domination. The building of the great highway from Port-au-Prince to Cape Haitien is a monumental piece of work, but it is doubtful whether the object in building it was to supply the Haitians with a great highway or to construct a military road which would facilitate the transportation of troops and supplies from one end of the island to the other. And this represents the sum total of the constructive accomplishment after five years of American Occupation. Now, the highway, while doubtless the most important achievement of the three, involved the most brutal of all the blunders of the Occupation. The work was in charge of an officer of Marines who stands out even in that organization for his "treat 'em rough" methods. He discovered the obsolete Haitian _corvée_ and decided to enforce it with the most modern Marine efficiency. The _corvée_, or road law, in Haiti provided that each citizen should work a certain number of days on the public roads to keep them in condition, or pay a certain sum of money. In the days when this law was in force the Haitian government never required the men to work the roads except in their respective communities, and the number of days was usually limited to three a year. But the Occupation seized men wherever it could find them, and no able-bodied Haitian was safe from such raids, which most closely resembled the African slave raids of past centuries. And slavery it was--though temporary. By day or by night, from the bosom of their families, from their little farms or while trudging peacefully on the country roads, Haitians were seized and forcibly taken to toil for months in far sections of the country. Those who protested or resisted were beaten into submission. At night, after long hours of unremitting labor under armed taskmasters, who swiftly discouraged any slackening of effort with boot or rifle butt, the victims were herded in compounds. Those attempting to escape were shot. Their terror-stricken families meanwhile were often in total ignorance of the fate of their husbands, fathers, brothers. It is chiefly out of these methods that arose the need for "pacification." Many men of the rural districts became panic-stricken and fled to the hills and mountains. Others rebelled and did likewise, preferring death to slavery. These refugees largely make up the "caco" forces, to hunt down which has become the duty and the sport of American Marines, who were privileged to shoot a "caco" on sight. If anyone doubts that "caco" hunting is the sport of American Marines in Haiti, let him learn the facts about the death of Charlemagne. Charlemagne Peralte was a Haitian of education and culture and of great influence in his district. He was tried by an American courtmartial on the charge of aiding "cacos." He was sentenced, not to prison, however, but to five years of hard labor on the roads, and was forced to work in convict garb on the streets of Cape Haitien. He made his escape and put himself at the head of several hundred followers in a valiant though hopeless attempt to free Haiti. The America of the Revolution, indeed the America of the Civil War, would have regarded Charlemagne not as a criminal but a patriot. He met his death not in open fight, not in an attempt at his capture, but through a dastard deed. While standing over his camp fire, he was shot in cold blood by an American Marine officer who stood concealed by the darkness, and who had reached the camp through bribery and trickery. This deed, which was nothing short of assassination, has been heralded as an example of American heroism. Of this deed, Harry Franck, writing in the June Century of "The Death of Charlemagne," says: "Indeed it is fit to rank with any of the stirring warrior tales with which history is seasoned from the days of the Greeks down to the recent world war." America should read "The Death of Charlemagne" which attempts to glorify a black smirch on American arms and tradition. There is a reason why the methods employed in road building affected the Haitian country folk in a way in which it might not have affected the people of any other Latin-American country. Not since the independence of the country has there been any such thing as a peon in Haiti. The revolution by which Haiti gained her independence was not merely a political revolution, it was also a social revolution. Among the many radical changes wrought was that of cutting up the large slave estates into small parcels and allotting them among former slaves. And so it was that every Haitian in the rural districts lived on his own plot of land, a plot on which his family has lived for perhaps more than a hundred years. No matter how small or how large that plot is, and whether he raises much or little on it, it is his and he is an independent farmer. The completed highway, moreover, continued to be a barb in the Haitian wound. Automobiles on this road, running without any speed limit, are a constant inconvenience or danger to the natives carrying their market produce to town on their heads or loaded on the backs of animals. I have seen these people scramble in terror often up the side or down the declivity of the mountain for places of safety for themselves and their animals as the machines snorted by. I have seen a market woman's horse take flight and scatter the produce loaded on his back all over the road for several hundred yards. I have heard an American commercial traveler laughingly tell how on the trip from Cape Haitien to Port-au-Prince the automobile he was in killed a donkey and two pigs. It had not occurred to him that the donkey might be the chief capital of the small Haitian farmer and that the loss of it might entirely bankrupt him. It is all very humorous, of course, unless you happen to be the Haitian pedestrian. The majority of visitors on arriving at Port-au-Prince and noticing the well-paved, well-kept streets, will at once jump to the conclusion that this work was done by the American Occupation. The Occupation goes to no trouble to refute this conclusion, and in fact it will by implication corroborate it. If one should exclaim, "Why, I am surprised to see what a well-paved city Port-au-Prince is!" he would be almost certain to receive the answer, "Yes, but you should have seen it before the Occupation." The implication here is that Port-au-Prince was a mudhole and that the Occupation is responsible for its clean and well-paved streets. It is true that at the time of the intervention, five years ago, there were only one or two paved streets in the Haitian capital, but the contracts for paving the entire city had been let by the Haitian Government, and the work had already been begun. This work was completed during the Occupation, _but the Occupation did not pave, and had nothing to do with the paving of a single street in Port-au-Prince_. One accomplishment I did expect to find--that the American Occupation, in its five years of absolute rule, had developed and improved the Haitian system of public education. The United States has made some efforts in this direction in other countries where it has taken control. In Porto Rico, Cuba, and the Philippines, the attempt, at least, was made to establish modern school systems. Selected youths from these countries were taken and sent to the United States for training in order that they might return and be better teachers, and American teachers were sent to those islands in exchange. The American Occupation in Haiti has not advanced public education a single step. No new buildings have been erected. Not a single Haitian youth has been sent to the United States for training as a teacher, nor has a single American teacher, white or colored, been sent to Haiti. According to the general budget of Haiti, 1919-1920, there are teachers in the rural schools receiving as little as six dollars a month. Some of these teachers may not be worth more than six dollars a month. But after five years of American rule, there ought not to be a single teacher in the country who is not worth more than that paltry sum. Another source of discontent is the Gendarmerie. When the Occupation took possession of the island, it disarmed all Haitians, including the various local police forces. To remedy this situation the Convention (Article X), provided that there should be created,-- without delay, an efficient constabulary, urban and rural, composed of native Haitians. This constabulary shall be organized and officered by Americans, appointed by the President of Haiti upon nomination by the President of the United States.... These officers shall be replaced by Haitians as they, by examination conducted under direction of a board to be selected by the Senior American Officer of this constabulary in the presence of a representative of the Haitian Government, are found to be qualified to assume such duties. During the first months of the Occupation officers of the Haitian Gendarmerie were commissioned officers of the marines, but the war took all these officers to Europe. Five years have passed and the constabulary is still officered entirely by marines, but almost without exception they are ex-privates or non-commissioned officers of the United States Marine Corps commissioned in the gendarmerie. Many of these men are rough, uncouth, and uneducated, and a great number from the South, are violently steeped in color prejudice. They direct all policing of city and town. It falls to them, ignorant of Haitian ways and language, to enforce every minor police regulation. Needless to say, this is a grave source of continued irritation. Where the genial American "cop" could, with a wave of his hand or club, convey the full majesty of the law to the small boy transgressor or to some equally innocuous offender, the strong-arm tactics for which the marines are famous, are apt to be promptly evoked. The pledge in the Convention that "these officers be replaced by Haitians" who could qualify, has, like other pledges, become a mere scrap of paper. Graduates of the famous French military academy of St. Cyr, men who have actually qualified for commissions in the French army, are denied the opportunity to fill even a lesser commission in the Haitian Gendarmerie, although such men, in addition to their pre-eminent qualifications of training, would, because of their understanding of local conditions and their complete familiarity with the ways of their own country, make ideal guardians of the peace. The American Occupation of Haiti is not only guilty of sins of omission, it is guilty of sins of commission in addition to those committed in the building of the great road across the island. Brutalities and atrocities on the part of American marines have occurred with sufficient frequency to be the cause of deep resentment and terror. Marines talk freely of what they "did" to some Haitians in the outlying districts. Familiar methods of torture to make captives reveal what they often do not know are nonchalantly discussed. Just before I left Port-au-Prince an American Marine had caught a Haitian boy stealing sugar off the wharf and instead of arresting him he battered his brains out with the butt of his rifle. I learned from the lips of American Marines themselves of a number of cases of rape of Haitian women by marines. I often sat at tables in the hotels and cafes in company with marine officers and they talked before me without restraint. I remember the description of a "caco" hunt by one of them; he told how they finally came upon a crowd of natives engaged in the popular pastime of cock-fighting and how they "let them have it" with machine guns and rifle fire. I heard another, a captain of marines, relate how he at a fire in Port-au-Prince ordered a "rather dressed up Haitian," standing on the sidewalk, to "get in there" and take a hand at the pumps. It appeared that the Haitian merely shrugged his shoulders. The captain of marines then laughingly said: "I had on a pretty heavy pair of boots and I let him have a kick that landed him in the middle of the street. Someone ran up and told me that the man was an ex-member of the Haitian Assembly." The fact that the man had been a member of the Haitian Assembly made the whole incident more laughable to the captain of marines. Perhaps the most serious aspect of American brutality in Haiti is not to be found in individual cases of cruelty, numerous and inexcusable though they are, but rather in the American attitude, well illustrated by the diagnosis of an American officer discussing the situation and its difficulty: "The trouble with this whole business is that some of these people with a little money and education think they are as good as we are," and this is the keynote of the attitude of every American to every Haitian. Americans have carried American hatred to Haiti. They have planted the feeling of caste and color prejudice where it never before existed. And such are the "accomplishments" of the United States in Haiti. The Occupation has not only failed to achieve anything worth while, but has made it impossible to do so because of the distrust and bitterness that it has engendered in the Haitian people. Through the present instrumentalities no matter how earnestly the United States may desire to be fair to Haiti and make intervention a success, it will not succeed. An entirely new deal is necessary. This Government forced the Haitian leaders to accept the promise of American aid and American supervision. With that American aid the Haitian Government defaulted its external and internal debt, an obligation, which under self-government the Haitians had scrupulously observed. And American supervision turned out to be a military tyranny supporting a program of economic exploitation. The United States had an opportunity to gain the confidence of the Haitian people. That opportunity has been destroyed. When American troops first landed, although the Haitian people were outraged, there was a feeling nevertheless which might well have developed into cooperation. There were those who had hopes that the United States, guided by its traditional policy of nearly a century and a half, pursuing its fine stand in Cuba, under McKinley, Roosevelt, and Taft, would extend aid that would be mutually beneficial to both countries. Those Haitians who indulged this hope are disappointed and bitter. Those members of the Haitian Assembly who, while acting under coercion were nevertheless hopeful of American promises, incurred unpopularity by voting for the Convention, are today bitterly disappointed and utterly disillusioned. If the United States should leave Haiti today, it would leave more than a thousand widows and orphans of its own making, more banditry than has existed for a century, resentment, hatred and despair in the heart of a whole people, to say nothing of the irreparable injury to its own tradition as the defender of the rights of man. _From The Nation of September 4, 1920._ III. GOVERNMENT OF, BY, AND FOR THE NATIONAL CITY BANK Former articles of this series described the Military Occupation of Haiti and the crowd of civilian place holders as among the forces at work in Haiti to maintain the present status in that country. But more powerful though less obvious, and more sinister, because of its deep and varied radications, is the force exercised by the National City Bank of New York. It seeks more than the mere maintenance of the present status in Haiti; it is constantly working to bring about a condition more suitable and profitable to itself. Behind the Occupation, working conjointly with the Department of State, stands this great banking institution of New York and elsewhere. The financial potentates allied with it are the ones who will profit by the control of Haiti. The United States Marine Corps and the various office-holding "deserving Democrats," who help maintain the status quo there, are in reality working for great financial interests in this country, although Uncle Sam and Haiti pay their salaries. Mr. Roger L. Farnham, vice-president of the National City Bank, was effectively instrumental in bringing about American intervention in Haiti. With the administration at Washington, the word of Mr. Farnham supersedes that of anybody else on the island. While Mr. Bailly-Blanchard, with the title of minister, is its representative in name, Mr. Farnham is its representative in fact. His goings and comings are aboard vessels of the United States Navy. His bank, the National City, has been in charge of the Banque Nationale d'Haiti throughout the Occupation.[1] Only a few weeks ago he was appointed receiver of the National Railroad of Haiti, controlling practically the entire railway system in the island with valuable territorial concessions in all parts.[2] The $5,000,000 sugar plant at Port-au-Prince, it is commonly reported, is about to fall into his hands. [Footnote 1: The National City Bank originally (about 1911) purchased 2,000 shares of the stock of the Banque Nationale d'Haiti. After the Occupation it purchased 6,000 additional shares in the hands of three New York banking firms. Since then it has been negotiating for the complete control of the stock, the balance of which is held in France. The contract for this transfer of the Bank and the granting of a new charter under the laws of Haiti were agreed upon and signed at Washington last February. But the delay in completing these arrangements is caused by the impasse between the State Department and the National City Bank, on the one hand, and the Haitian Government on the other, due to the fact that the State Department and the National City Bank insisted upon including in the contract a clause prohibiting the importation and exportation of foreign money into Haiti subject only to the control of the financial adviser. To this new power the Haitian Government refuses to consent.] [Footnote 2: Originally, Mr. James P. McDonald secured from the Haitian Government the concession to build the railroads under the charter of the National Railways of Haiti. He arranged with W. R. Grace & Company to finance the concession. Grace and Company formed a syndicate under the aegis of the National City Bank which issued $2,500,000 bonds, sold in France. These bonds were guaranteed by the Haitian Government at an interest of 6 per cent on $32,500 for each mile. A short while after the floating of these bonds, Mr. Farnham became President of the company. The syndicate advanced another $2,000,000 for the completion of the railroad in accordance with the concession granted by the Haitian Government. This money was used, but the work was not completed in accordance with the contract made by the Haitian Government in the concession. The Haitian Government then refused any longer to pay the interest on the mileage. These happenings were prior to 1915.] Now, of all the various responsibilities, expressed, implied, or assumed by the United States in Haiti, it would naturally be supposed that the financial obligation would be foremost. Indeed, the sister republic of Santo Domingo was taken over by the United States Navy for no other reason than failure to pay its internal debt. But Haiti for over one hundred years scrupulously paid its external and internal debt--a fact worth remembering when one hears of "anarchy and disorder" in that land--until five years ago when under the financial guardianship of the United States interest on both the internal and, with one exception, external debt was defaulted; and this in spite of the fact that specified revenues were pledged for the payment of this interest. Apart from the distinct injury to the honor and reputation of the country, the hardship on individuals has been great. For while the foreign debt is held particularly in France which, being under great financial obligations to the United States since the beginning of the war, has not been able to protest effectively, the interior debt is held almost entirely by Haitian citizens. Haitian Government bonds have long been the recognized substantial investment for the well-to-do and middle class people, considered as are in this country, United States, state, and municipal bonds. Non-payment on these securities has placed many families in absolute want. What has happened to these bonds? They are being sold for a song, for the little cash they will bring. Individuals closely connected with the National Bank of Haiti are ready purchasers. When the new Haitian loan is floated it will, of course, contain ample provisions for redeeming these old bonds at par. The profits will be more than handsome. Not that the National Bank has not already made hay in the sunshine of American Occupation. From the beginning it has been sole depositary of all revenues collected in the name of the Haitian Government by the American Occupation, receiving in addition to the interest rate a commission on all funds deposited. The bank is the sole agent in the transmission of these funds. It has also the exclusive note-issuing privilege in the republic. At the same time complaint is widespread among the Haitian business men that the Bank no longer as of old accommodates them with credit and that its interests are now entirely in developments of its own. Now, one of the promises that was made to the Haitian Government, partly to allay its doubts and fears as to the purpose and character of the American intervention, was that the United States would put the country's finances on a solid and substantial basis. A loan for $30,000,000 or more was one of the features of this promised assistance. Pursuant, supposedly, to this plan, a Financial Adviser for Haiti was appointed in the person of Mr. John Avery McIlhenny. Who is Mr. McIlhenny? That he has the cordial backing and direction of so able a financier as Mr. Farnham is comforting when one reviews the past record and experience in finance of Haiti's Financial Adviser as given by him in "Who's Who in America," for 1918-1919. He was born in Avery Island, Iberia Parish, La.; went to Tulane University for one year; was a private in the Louisiana State militia for five years; trooper in the U.S. Cavalry in 1898; promoted to second lieutenancy for gallantry in action at San Juan; has been member of the Louisiana House of Representatives and Senate; was a member of the U. S. Civil Service Commission in 1906 and president of the same in 1913; Democrat. It is under his Financial Advisership that the Haitian interest has been continued in default with the one exception above noted, when several months ago $3,000,000 was converted into francs to meet the accumulated interest payments on the foreign debt. Dissatisfaction on the part of the Haitians developed over the lack of financial perspicacity in this transaction of Mr. McIlhenny because the sum was converted into francs at the rate of nine to a dollar while shortly after the rate of exchange on French francs dropped to fourteen to a dollar. Indeed, Mr. McIlhenny's unfitness by training and experience for the delicate and important position which he is filling was one of the most generally admitted facts which I gathered in Haiti. At the present writing, however, Mr. McIlhenny has become a conspicuous figure in the history of the Occupation of Haiti as the instrument by which the National City Bank is striving to complete the riveting, double-locking and bolting of its financial control of the island. For although it would appear that the absolute military domination under which Haiti is held would enable the financial powers to accomplish almost anything they desire, they are wise enough to realize that a day of reckoning, such as, for instance, a change in the Administration in the United States, may be coming. So they are eager and anxious to have everything they want signed, sealed, and delivered. Anything, of course, that the Haitians have fully "consented to" no one else can reasonably object to. A little recent history: in February of the present year, the ministers of the different departments, in order to conform to the letter of the law (Article 116 of the Constitution of Haiti, which was saddled upon her in 1918 by the Occupation[3] and Article 2 of the Haitian-American Convention[4]) began work on the preparation of the accounts for 1918-1919 and the budget for 1920-1921. On March 22 a draft of the budget was sent to Mr. A. J. Maumus, Acting Financial Adviser, in the absence of Mr. McIlhenny who had at that time been in the United States for seven months. Mr. Maumus replied on March 29, suggesting postponement of all discussion of the budget until Mr. McIlhenny's return. Nevertheless, the Legislative body, in pursuance of the law, opened on its constitutional date, Monday, April 5. Despite the great urgency of the matter in hand, the Haitian administration was obliged to mark time until June 1, when Mr. McIlhenny returned to Haiti. Several conferences with the various ministers were then undertaken. On June 12, at one of these conferences, there arrived in the place of the Financial Adviser a note stating that he would be obliged to stop all study of the budget "until the time when certain affairs of considerable importance to the well-being of the country shall be finally settled according to recommendations made by me to the Haitian Government." As he did not give in his note the slightest idea what these important affairs were, the Haitian Secretary wrote asking for information, at the same time calling attention to the already great and embarrassing delay, and reminding Mr. McIlhenny that the preparation of the accounts and budget was one of his legal duties as an official attached to the Haitian Government, of which he could not divest himself. [Footnote 3: "The general accounts and the budgets prescribed by the preceding article must be submitted to the Legislative Body by the Secretary of Finance not later than eight days after the opening of the Legislative Session."] [Footnote 4: "The President of Haiti shall appoint, on the nomination of the President of the United States, a Financial Adviser who shall be attached to the Ministry of Finance, to whom the Secretary (of Finance) shall lend effective aid in the prosecution of his work. The Financial Adviser shall work out a system of public accounting, shall aid in increasing the revenues and in their adjustment to expenditures...."] On July 19 Mr. McIlhenny supplied his previous omission in a memorandum which he transmitted to the Haitian Department of Finance, in which he said: "I had instructions from the Department of State of the United States just before my departure for Haiti, in a part of a letter of May 20, to declare to the Haitian Government that it was necessary to give its immediate and formal approval to: 1. A modification of the Bank Contract agreed upon by the Department of State and the National City Bank of New York. 2. Transfer of the National Bank of the Republic of Haiti to a new bank registered under the laws of Haiti, to be known as the National Bank of the Republic of Haiti. 3. The execution of Article 15 of the Contract of Withdrawal prohibiting the importation and exportation of non-Haitian money except that which might be necessary for the needs of commerce in the opinion of the Financial Adviser." Now, what is the meaning and significance of these proposals? The full details have not been given out, but it is known that they are part of a new monetary law for Haiti involving the complete transfer of the Banque Nationale d'Haiti to the National City Bank of New York. The document embodying the agreements, with the exception of the clause prohibiting the importation of foreign money, was signed at Washington, February 6, 1920, by Mr. McIlhenny, the Haitian Minister at Washington and the Haitian Secretary of Finance. _The Haitian Government has officially declared that the clause prohibiting the importation and exportation of foreign money, except as it may be deemed necessary in the opinion of the Financial Adviser, was added to the original agreement by some unknown party._ It is for the purpose of compelling the Haitian Government to approve the agreements, including the "prohibition clause," that pressure is now being applied. Efforts on the part of business interests in Haiti to learn the character and scope of what was done at Washington have been thwarted by close secrecy. However, sufficient of its import has become known to understand the reasons for the unqualified and definite refusal of President Dartiguenave and the Government to give their approval. Those reasons are that the agreements would give to the National Bank of Haiti, and thereby to the National City Bank of New York, exclusive monopoly upon the right of importing and exporting American and other foreign money to and from Haiti, a monopoly which would carry unprecedented and extraordinarily lucrative privileges. The proposal involved in this agreement has called forth a vigorous protest on the part of every important banking and business concern in Haiti with the exception, of course, of the National Bank of Haiti. This protest was transmitted to the Haitian Minister of Finance on July 30 past. The protest is signed not only by Haitians and Europeans doing business in that country but also by the leading American business concerns, among which are The American Foreign Banking Corporation, The Haitian-American Sugar Company, The Panama Railroad Steamship Line, The Clyde Steamship Line, and The West Indies Trading Company. Among the foreign signers are the Royal Bank of Canada, Le Comptoir Français, Le Comptoir Commercial, and besides a number of business firms. We have now in Haiti a triangular situation with the National City Bank and our Department of State in two corners and the Haitian government in the third. Pressure is being brought on the Haitian government to compel it to grant a monopoly which on its face appears designed to give the National City Bank a strangle hold on the financial life of that country. With the Haitian government refusing to yield, we have the Financial Adviser who is, according to the Haitian-American Convention, a Haitian official charged with certain duties (in this case the approval of the budget and accounts), refusing to carry out those duties until the government yields to the pressure which is being brought. Haiti is now experiencing the "third degree." Ever since the Bank Contract was drawn and signed at Washington increasing pressure has been applied to make the Haitian government accept the clause prohibiting the importation of foreign money. Mr. McIlhenny is now holding up the salaries of the President, ministers of departments, members of the Council of State, and the official interpreter. [These salaries have not been paid since July 1.] And there the matter now stands. Several things may happen. The Administration, finding present methods insufficient, may decide to act as in Santo Domingo, to abolish the President, cabinet, and all civil government--as they have already abolished the Haitian Assembly--and put into effect, by purely military force, what, in the face of the unflinching Haitian refusal to sign away their birthright, the combined military, civil, and financial pressure has been unable to accomplish. Or, with an election and a probable change of Administration in this country pending, with a Congressional investigation foreshadowed, it may be decided that matters are "too difficult" and the National City Bank may find that it can be more profitably engaged elsewhere. Indications of such a course are not lacking. From the point of view of the National City Bank, of course, the institution has not only done nothing which is not wholly legitimate, proper, and according to the canons of big business throughout the world, but has actually performed constructive and generous service to a backward and uncivilized people in attempting to promote their railways, to develop their country, and to shape soundly their finance. That Mr. Farnham and those associated with him hold these views sincerely, there is no doubt. But that the Haitians, after over one hundred years of self-government and liberty, contemplating the slaughter of three thousand of their sons, the loss of their political and economic freedom, without compensating advantages which they can appreciate, feel very differently, is equally true. _From The Nation of September 11, 1920._ IV. THE HAITIAN PEOPLE The first sight of Port-au-Prince is perhaps most startling to the experienced Latin-American traveler. Caribbean cities are of the Spanish-American type--buildings square and squat, built generally around a court, with residences and business houses scarcely interdistinguishable. Port-au-Prince is rather a city of the French or Italian Riviera. Across the bay of deepest blue the purple mountains of Gonave loom against the Western sky, rivaling the bay's azure depths. Back of the business section, spreading around the bay's great sweep and well into the plain beyond, rise the green hills with their white residences. The residential section spreads over the slopes and into the mountain tiers. High up are the homes of the well-to-do, beautiful villas set in green gardens relieved by the flaming crimson of the poinsettia. Despite the imposing mountains a man-made edifice dominates the scene. From the center of the city the great Gothic cathedral lifts its spires above the tranquil city. Well-paved and clean, the city prolongs the thrill of its first unfolding. Cosmopolitan yet quaint, with an old-world atmosphere yet a charm of its own, one gets throughout the feeling of continental European life. In the hotels and cafes the affairs of the world are heard discussed in several languages. The cuisine and service are not only excellent but inexpensive. At the Café Dereix, cool and scrupulously clean, dinner from _hors d'oeuvres_ to _glacés_, with wine, of course, recalling the famous antebellum hostelries of New York and Paris, may be had for six gourdes [$1.25]. A drive of two hours around Port-au-Prince, through the newer section of brick and concrete buildings, past the cathedral erected from 1903 to 1912, along the Champ de Mars where the new presidential palace stands, up into the Peu de Choses section where the hundreds of beautiful villas and grounds of the well-to-do are situated, permanently dispels any lingering question that the Haitians have been retrograding during the 116 years of their independence. In the lower city, along the water's edge, around the market and in the Rue Républicaine, is the "local color." The long rows of wooden shanties, the curious little booths around the market, filled with jabbering venders and with scantily clad children, magnificent in body, running in and out, are no less picturesque and no more primitive, no humbler, yet cleaner, than similar quarters in Naples, in Lisbon, in Marseilles, and more justifiable than the great slums of civilization's centers--London and New York, which are totally without aesthetic redemption. But it is only the modernists in history who are willing to look at the masses as factors in the life and development of the country, and in its history. For Haitian history, like history the world over, has for the last century been that of cultured and educated groups. To know Haitian life one must have the privilege of being received as a guest in the houses of these latter, and they live in beautiful houses. The majority have been educated in France; they are cultured, brilliant conversationally, and thoroughly enjoy their social life. The women dress well. Many are beautiful and all vivacious and chic. Cultivated people from any part of the world would feel at home in the best Haitian society. If our guest were to enter to the Cercle Bellevue, the leading club of Port-au-Prince, he would find the courteous, friendly atmosphere of a men's club; he would hear varying shades of opinion on public questions, and could scarcely fail to be impressed by the thorough knowledge of world affairs possessed by the intelligent Haitian. Nor would his encounters be only with people who have culture and savoir vivre; he would meet the Haitian intellectuals--poets, essayists, novelists, historians, critics. Take for example such a writer as Fernand Hibbert. An English authority says of him, "His essays are worthy of the pen of Anatole France or Pierre Loti." And there is Georges Sylvaine, poet and essayist, conférencier at the Sorbonne, where his address was received with acclaim, author of books crowned by the French Academy, and an Officer of the Légion d'Honneur. Hibbert and Sylvaine are only two among a dozen or more contemporary Haitian men of letters whose work may be measured by world standards. Two names that stand out preeminently in Haitian literature are Oswald Durand, the national poet, who died a few years ago, and Damocles Vieux. These people, educated, cultured, and intellectual, are not accidental and sporadic offshoots of the Haitian people; they _are_ the Haitian people and they are a demonstration of its inherent potentialities. However, Port-au-Prince is not all of Haiti. Other cities are smaller replicas, and fully as interesting are the people of the country districts. Perhaps the deepest impression on the observant visitor is made by the country women. Magnificent as they file along the country roads by scores and by hundreds on their way to the town markets, with white or colored turbaned heads, gold-looped-ringed ears, they stride along straight and lithe, almost haughtily, carrying themselves like so many Queens of Sheba. The Haitian country people are kind-hearted, hospitable, and polite, seldom stupid but rather, quick-witted and imaginative. Fond of music, with a profound sense of beauty and harmony, they live simply but wholesomely. Their cabins rarely consist of only one room, the humblest having two or three, with a little shed front and back, a front and rear entrance, and plenty of windows. An aesthetic touch is never lacking--a flowering hedge or an arbor with trained vines bearing gorgeous colored blossoms. There is no comparison between the neat plastered-wall, thatched-roof cabin of the Haitian peasant and the traditional log hut of the South or the shanty of the more wretched American suburbs. The most notable feature about the Haitian cabin is its invariable cleanliness. At daylight the country people are up and about, the women begin their sweeping till the earthen or pebble-paved floor of the cabin is clean as can be. Then the yards around the cabin are vigorously attacked. In fact, nowhere in the country districts of Haiti does one find the filth and squalor which may be seen in any backwoods town in our own South. Cleanliness is a habit and a dirty Haitian is a rare exception. The garments even of the men who work on the wharves, mended and patched until little of the original cloth is visible, give evidence of periodical washing. The writer recalls a remark made by Mr. E. P. Pawley, an American, who conducts one of the largest business enterprises in Haiti. He said that the Haitians were an exceptionally clean people, that statistics showed that Haiti imported more soap per capita than any country in the world, and added, "They use it, too." Three of the largest soap manufactories in the United States maintain headquarters at Port-au-Prince. The masses of the Haitian people are splendid material for the building of a nation. They are not lazy; on the contrary, they are industrious and thrifty. Some observers mistakenly confound primitive methods with indolence. Anyone who travels Haitian roads is struck by the hundreds and even thousands of women, boys, and girls filing along mile after mile with their farm and garden produce on their heads or loaded on the backs of animals. With modern facilities, they could market their produce much more efficiently and with far less effort. But lacking them they are willing to walk and carry. For a woman to walk five to ten miles with a great load of produce on her head which may barely realize her a dollar is doubtless primitive, and a wasteful expenditure of energy, but it is not a sign of laziness. Haiti's great handicap has been not that her masses are degraded or lazy or immoral. It is that they are ignorant, due not so much to mental limitations as to enforced illiteracy. There is a specific reason for this. Somehow the French language, in the French-American colonial settlements containing a Negro population, divided itself into two branches, French and Creole. This is true of Louisiana, Martinique, Guadeloupe, and also of Haiti. Creole is an Africanized French and must not be thought of as a mere dialect. The French-speaking person cannot understand Creole, excepting a few words, unless he learns it. Creole is a distinct tongue, a graphic and very expressive language. Many of its constructions follow closely the African idioms. For example, in forming the superlative of greatness, one says in Creole, "He is great among great men," and a merchant woman, following the native idiom, will say, "You do not wish anything beautiful if you do not buy this." The upper Haitian class, approximately 500,000, speak and know French, while the masses, probably more than 2,000,000 speak only Creole. Haitian Creole is grammatically constructed, but has not to any general extent been reduced to writing. Therefore, these masses have no means of receiving or communicating thoughts through the written word. They have no books to read. They cannot read the newspapers. The children of the masses study French for a few years in school, but it never becomes their every-day language. In order to abolish Haitian illiteracy, Creole must be made a printed as well as a spoken language. The failure to undertake this problem is the worst indictment against the Haitian Government. This matter of language proves a handicap to Haiti in another manner. It isolates her from her sister republics. All of the Latin-American republics except Brazil speak Spanish and enjoy an intercourse with the outside world denied Haiti. Dramatic and musical companies from Spain, from Mexico and from the Argentine annually tour all of the Spanish-speaking republics. Haiti is deprived of all such instruction and entertainment from the outside world because it is not profitable for French companies to visit the three or four French-speaking islands in the Western Hemisphere. Much stress has been laid on the bloody history of Haiti and its numerous revolutions. Haitian history has been all too bloody, but so has that of every other country, and the bloodiness of the Haitian revolutions has of late been unduly magnified. A writer might visit our own country and clip from our daily press accounts of murders, robberies on the principal streets of our larger cities, strike violence, race riots, lynchings, and burnings at the stake of human beings, and write a book to prove that life is absolutely unsafe in the United States. The seriousness of the frequent Latin-American revolutions has been greatly over-emphasized. The writer has been in the midst of three of these revolutions and must confess that the treatment given them on our comic opera stage is very little farther removed from the truth than the treatment which is given in the daily newspapers. Not nearly so bloody as reported, their interference with people not in politics is almost negligible. Nor should it be forgotten that in almost every instance the revolution is due to the plotting of foreigners backed up by their Governments. No less an authority than Mr. John H. Allen, vice-president of the National City Bank of New York, writing on Haiti in the May number of _The Americas_, the National City Bank organ, who says, "It is no secret that the revolutions were financed by foreigners and were profitable speculations." In this matter of change of government by revolution, Haiti must not be compared with the United States or with England; it must be compared with other Latin American republics. When it is compared with our next door neighbor, Mexico, it will be found that the Government of Haiti has been more stable and that the country has experienced less bloodshed and anarchy. And it must never be forgotten that throughout not an American or other foreigner has been killed, injured or, as far as can be ascertained, even molested. In Haiti's 116 years of independence, there have been twenty-five presidents and twenty-five different administrations. In Mexico, during its 99 years of independence, there have been forty-seven rulers and eighty-seven administrations. "Graft" has been plentiful, shocking at times, but who in America, where the Tammany machines and the municipal rings are notorious, will dare to point the finger of scorn at Haiti in this connection. And this is the people whose "inferiority," whose "retrogression," whose "savagery," is advanced as a justification for intervention--for the ruthless slaughter of three thousand of its practically defenseless sons, with the death of a score of our own boys, for the utterly selfish exploitation of the country by American big finance, for the destruction of America's most precious heritage--her traditional fair play, her sense of justice, her aid to the oppressed. "Inferiority" always was the excuse of ruthless imperialism until the Germans invaded Belgium, when it became "military necessity." In the case of Haiti there is not the slightest vestige of any of the traditional justifications, unwarranted as these generally are, and no amount of misrepresentation in an era when propaganda and censorship have had their heyday, no amount of slander, even in a country deeply prejudiced where color is involved, will longer serve to obscure to the conscience of America the eternal shame of its last five years in Haiti. _Fiat justitia, ruat coelum!_ _From The Nation of September 25, 1920._ Documents _The following are from The Nation of August 28, 1920_ The Proposed Convention with Haiti The Fuller Convention, submitted to the Haitian Minister of Foreign Affairs on May 22, 1915, by Mr. Paul Fuller, Jr., Envoy Extraordinary of the United States to Haiti, read as follows, the preliminary and concluding paragraphs being omitted: 1. The Government of the United States of America will protect the Republic of Haiti from outside attack and from the aggression of any foreign Power, and to that end will employ such forces of the army and navy of the United States as may be necessary. 2. The Government of the United States of America will aid the Government of Haiti to suppress insurrection from within and will give effective support by the employment of the armed forces of the United States army and navy to the extent needed. 3. The President of the Republic of Haiti covenants that no rights, privileges, or facilities of any description whatsoever will be granted, sold, leased, or otherwise accorded directly or indirectly by the Government of Haiti concerning the occupation or use of the Mole Saint-Nicolas to any foreign government or to a national or the nationals of any other foreign government. 4. The President of the Republic of Haiti covenants that within six months from the signing of this convention, the Government will enter into an arbitration agreement for the settlement of such claims as American citizens or other foreigners may have against the Government of Haiti, such arbitration agreement to provide for the equal treatment of all foreigners to the end that the people of Haiti may have the benefit of competition between the nationals of all countries. The Haitian Counter-Project The counter-project of the Haitian Government, of June 4, 1915, with such of the modifications suggested by Mr. Fuller as the Haitian Government was willing to accept, read as follows: I. The Government of the United States of America will lend its assistance to the Republic of Haiti for the preservation of its independence. For that purpose it agrees to intervene to prevent the intrusion of any Power and to repulse any act of aggression against the Republic of Haiti. To that end it will employ such forces of the army and navy of the United States as may be necessary. II. The Government of the United States will facilitate the entry into Haiti of sufficient capital to assure the full economic development of that country, and to improve, within the immediate future, its financial situation, especially to bring about the unification of its debt in such fashion as to reduce the customs guaranties now required, and to lead to a fundamental money reform. In order to give such capital all desirable guaranties the Government of Haiti agrees to employ in the customs service only officials whose ability and character are well known, and to replace those who in practice are found not to fill these conditions. The Government of Haiti will also assure the protection of capital and in general of all foreign interests by the organization of a mounted rural constabulary trained in the most modern methods. In the meantime if it be necessary the Government of the United States, after consultation with the Government of Haiti, will give its aid in the repression of serious disorders or troubles which might compromise these foreign interests. The American forces which have in the given circumstances cooperated with the Haitian troops in the restoration of order, should be retired from Haitian territory at the first request of the constitutional authority. III. The President of the Republic of Haiti covenants that no rights, privileges, or facilities of any description whatsoever will be granted, sold, leased, or otherwise accorded directly or indirectly by the Government of Haiti concerning the occupation or use of the Mole Saint-Nicolas to any foreign government or to a national or the nationals of any other foreign government. IV. The President of the Republic of Haiti covenants within six months of the signing of this convention to sign a convention of arbitration with the Powers concerned for the settlement of the diplomatic claims pending, which arbitration convention will provide for the equal treatment of all claimants, no special privileges being granted to any of them. V. In case of difficulties regarding the interpretation of the clauses of the present convention, the high contracting parties agree to submit the difference to the Permanent Court of Arbitration at The Hague. Mr. Fuller had suggested a further modification which the Haitian Government refused. It changed the final paragraph of Article II to read: "The American forces which have in the given circumstance cooperated with the Haitian troops, shall, when order has been reestablished, be retired," etc. His other suggestions were accepted with unimportant verbal changes. The Haitian-United States Convention The convention between the United States and Haiti was ratified on September 16, 1915, after the occupation of the country by American troops. In its final form it is in interesting contrast with the suggested agreements printed above. The United States and the Republic of Haiti, desiring to confirm and strengthen the amity existing between them by the most cordial cooperation in measures for their common advantage, and the Republic of Haiti desiring to remedy the present condition of its revenues and finances, to maintain the tranquillity of the Republic, to carry out plans for the economic development and prosperity of the Republic and its people, and the United States being in full sympathy with all of these aims and objects and desiring to contribute in all proper ways to their accomplishment; The United States and the Republic of Haiti have resolved to conclude a convention with these objects in view, and have appointed for that purpose plenipotentiaries: The President of the Republic of Haiti, Mr. Louis Borno, Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs and Public Instruction, The President of the United States, Mr. Robert Beale Davis, Jr., Chargé d'Affaires of the United States of America; Who, having exhibited to each other their respective powers, which are seen to be full in good and true form, have agreed as follows: ARTICLE I. The Government of the United States will, by its good offices, aid the Haitian Government in the proper and efficient development of its agricultural, mineral, and commercial resources and in the establishment of the finances of Haiti on a firm and solid basis. ARTICLE II. The President of Haiti shall appoint, upon nomination by the President of the United States, a General Receiver and such aids and employees as may be necessary, who shall collect, receive, and apply all customs duties on imports and exports accruing at the several customs-houses and ports of entry of the Republic of Haiti. The President of Haiti shall appoint, upon nomination by the President of the United States, a Financial Adviser who shall be an officer attached to the Ministry of Finance, to give effect to whose proposals and labors the Minister will lend efficient aid. The Financial Adviser shall devise an adequate system of public accounting, aid in increasing the revenues and adjusting them to the expenses, inquire into the validity of the debts of the Republic, enlighten both governments with reference to all eventual debts, recommend improved methods of collecting and applying the revenues, and make such other recommendations to the Minister of Finance as may be deemed necessary for the welfare and prosperity of Haiti. ARTICLE III. The Government of the Republic of Haiti will provide by law or appropriate decrees for the payment of all customs duties to the General Receiver, and will extend to the Receivership, and to the Financial Adviser, all needful aid and full protection in the execution of the powers conferred and duties imposed herein; and the United States on its part will extend like aid and protection. ARTICLE IV. Upon the appointment of the Financial Adviser, the Government of the Republic of Haiti in cooperation with the Financial Adviser, shall collate, classify, arrange, and make full statement of all the debts of the Republic, the amounts, character, maturity, and condition thereof, and the interest accruing and the sinking fund requisite to their final discharge. ARTICLE V. All sums collected and received by the General Receiver shall be applied, first to the payment of the salaries and allowances of the General Receiver, his assistants, and employees and expenses of the Receivership, including the salary and expenses of the Financial Adviser, which salaries will be determined by the previous agreement; second, to the interest and sinking fund of the public debt of the Republic of Haiti; and third, to the maintenance of the constabulary referred to in Article X, and then the remainder to the Haitian Government for the purposes of current expenses. In making these applications the General Receiver will proceed to pay salaries and allowances monthly and expenses as they arise, and on the first of each calendar month will set aside in a separate fund the quantum of the collections and receipts of the previous month. ARTICLE VI. The expenses of the Receivership, including salaries and allowances of the General Receiver, his assistants, and employees, and the salary and expenses of the Financial Adviser, shall not exceed 5 per cent of the collections and receipts from customs duties, unless by agreement by the two governments. ARTICLE VII. The General Receiver shall make monthly reports of all collections, receipts, and disbursements to the appropriate officers of the Republic of Haiti and to the Department of State of the United States, which reports shall be open to inspection and verification at all times by the appropriate authorities of each of the said governments. ARTICLE VIII. The Republic of Haiti shall not increase its public debt, except by previous agreement with the President of the United States, and shall not contract any debt or assume any financial obligation unless the ordinary revenues of the Republic available for that purpose, after defraying the expenses of the Government, shall be adequate to pay the interest and provide a sinking fund for the final discharge of such debt. ARTICLE IX. The Republic of Haiti will not, without the assent of the President of the United States, modify the customs duties in a manner to reduce the revenues therefrom; and in order that the revenues of the Republic may be adequate to meet the public debt and the expenses of the Government, to preserve tranquillity, and to promote material prosperity, the Republic of Haiti will cooperate with the Financial Adviser in his recommendations for improvement in the methods of collecting and disbursing the revenues and for new sources of needed income. ARTICLE X. The Haitian Government obligates itself, for the preservation of domestic peace, the security of individual rights, and the full observance of the provisions of this treaty, to create without delay an efficient constabulary, urban and rural, composed of native Haitians. This constabulary shall be organized and officered by Americans appointed by the President of Haiti, upon nomination by the President of the United States. The Haitian Government shall clothe these officers with the proper and necessary authority and uphold them in the performance of their functions. These officers will be replaced by Haitians as they, by examination conducted under direction of a board to be selected by the senior American officer of this constabulary in the presence of a representative of the Haitian Government, are found to be qualified to assume such duties. The constabulary herein provided for shall, under the direction of the Haitian Government, have supervision and control of arms and ammunition, military supplies and traffic therein, throughout the country. The high contracting parties agree that the stipulations in this article are necessary to prevent factional strife and disturbances. ARTICLE XI. The Government of Haiti agrees not to surrender any of the territory of the Republic of Haiti by sale, lease, or otherwise, or jurisdiction over such territory, to any foreign government or Power, nor to enter into any treaty or contract with any foreign Power or Powers that will impair or tend to impair the independence of Haiti. ARTICLE XII. The Haitian Government agrees to execute with the United States a protocol for the settlement, by arbitration or otherwise, of all pending pecuniary claims of foreign corporations, companies, citizens, or subjects against Haiti. ARTICLE XIII. The Republic of Haiti, being desirous to further the development of its natural resources, agrees to undertake and execute such measures as, in the opinion of the high contracting parties, may be necessary for the sanitation and public improvement of the Republic under the supervision and direction of an engineer or engineers, to be appointed by the President of Haiti upon nomination of the President of the United States, and authorized for that purpose by the Government of Haiti. ARTICLE XIV. The high contracting parties shall have authority to take such steps as may be necessary to insure the complete attainment of any of the objects comprehended in this treaty; and should the necessity occur, the United States will lend an efficient aid for the preservation of Haitian independence and the maintenance of a government adequate for the protection of life, property, and individual liberty. ARTICLE XV. The present treaty shall be approved and ratified by the high contracting parties in conformity with their respective laws, and the ratifications thereof shall be exchanged in the City of Washington as soon as may be possible. ARTICLE XVI. The present treaty shall remain in full force and virtue for the term of ten years, to be counted from the day of exchange of ratifications, and further for another term of ten years if, for specific reasons presented by either of the high contracting parties, the purpose of this treaty has not been fully accomplished. In faith whereof, the respective plenipotentiaries have signed the present convention in duplicate, in the English and French languages, and have thereunto affixed their seals. Done at Port-au-Prince (Haiti), the 16th day of September in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred and fifteen. ROBERT BEALE DAVIS, JR., Chargé d'Affaires of the United States LOUIS BORNO, Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs and Public Instruction The New Constitution of Haiti The new Constitution of the Republic of Haiti, ratified under the American Occupation, altered the former Constitution in regard to the important subject of the right of foreigners to hold land. Article 6 of the old Constitution reads: No one, unless he is a Haitian, may be a holder of land in Haiti, regardless of what his title may be, nor acquire any real estate. Article 5 of the Constitution of 1918 makes the following provision: The right to hold property is given to foreigners residing in Haiti, and to societies formed by foreigners, for dwelling purposes and for agricultural, commercial, industrial, or educational enterprises. This right shall be discontinued five years after the foreigner shall have ceased to reside in the country, or when the activities of these companies shall have ceased. The Haitian President's Proclamation In the _Moniteur_, official organ of the Republic of Haiti, for September 4, 1915, in a column headed "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity," the president of Haiti published a proclamation on the situation arising from the occupation by American troops of the customs-house at Port-au-Prince. Haitians! At the very moment when the Government, engaged in negotiations to settle the question of the presence of American military forces on Haitian territory, was looking forward to a prompt solution in accordance with law and justice, it finds itself faced with the simple seizure of possession of the customs administration of the capital. Previously the customs-houses of several other cities of the republic had been occupied in like fashion, and whenever the news of such occupation reached the National Palace or the Department of Finances, it was followed by an energetic protest, demanding that the diplomatic representative of the American Government residing at Port-au-Prince restore the customs-houses and put an end to acts so contrary to the relations at present existing between the Government of Haiti and the Government of the United States of North America. Haitians! In bringing these facts officially to the attention of the country, I owe it to myself to declare further, in the most formal fashion, to you and to the entire civilized world, that the order to carry out these acts so destructive of the interests, rights, and sovereignty of the Haitian people is not due to anything which can be cited against the patriotism, devotion, spirit of sacrifice, and loyalty of those to whom the destinies of the country have been intrusted. You are the judges of that. Nor will I conceal the fact that my astonishment is greater because the negotiations, which had been undertaken in the hope of an agreement upon the basis of propositions presented by the American Government itself, after having passed through the ordinary phases of diplomatic discussion, with frankness and courtesy on both sides, have now been relieved of the only obstacles which had hitherto appeared to stand in their way. Haitians! In this agonizing situation, more than tragic for every truly Haitian soul, the Government, which intends to preserve full national sovereignty, will be able to maintain the necessary resolution only if all are united in exercising their intelligence and energy with it in the present task of saving the nation.... SUDRE DARTIGUENAVE Given at the National Palace, September 2, 1915, in the 112th year of our independence. _The following are from the Nation of September 11, 1920_ Why Haiti Has No Budget At the session of the Haitian National Assembly on August 4, the President of the Republic of Haiti and the Haitian Minister of Finance laid before that body the course of the American Financial Adviser which had made it impossible to submit to the Assembly accounts and budgets in accordance with the Constitution of Haiti and the Haiti-American Convention. The statement which follows is taken from the official Haitian gazette, the _Moniteur_ of August 7. MESSAGE OF THE PRESIDENT Gentlemen of the Council of State: On account of unforeseen circumstances it has not been possible for the Government of the Republic to present to you in the course of the session of your high assembly which closes today (August 4) the general accounts of the receipts and expenditures for 1918-1919 and the budget for 1920-1921, in accordance with the Constitution. It is certainly an exceptional case, the gravity of which will not escape you. You will learn the full details from the report which the Secretary of Finance and Commerce will submit to you, in which it will be shown that the responsibility for it does not fall on the Executive Power.... In the life of every people there come moments when it must know how to be resigned and to suffer. Are we facing one of those moments? The attitude of the Haitian people, calm and dignified, persuades me that, marching closely with the Government of the Republic, there is no suffering which it is not disposed to undergo to safeguard and secure the triumph of its rights. DARTIGUENAVE REPORT OF THE SECRETARY OF FINANCE AND COMMERCE Gentlemen of the Council of State: Article 116 of the Constitution prescribes in its first paragraph: "The general accounts and the budgets prescribed by the preceding article must be submitted to the legislative body by the Secretary of Finance not later than eight days after the opening of the legislative session." And Article 2 of the American-Haitian Convention of September 16, 1915, stipulates in its second paragraph: "The President of Haiti shall appoint, on the nomination of the President of the United States, a Financial Adviser, _who shall be a civil servant attached to the Ministry of Finance_, to whom the Secretary shall lend effective aid in the prosecution of his work. The Financial Adviser shall work out a system of public accounting, shall aid in increasing the revenues and in their adjustment to expenditures...." Since February of this year (1920) the secretaries of the various departments, in order to conform to the letter of Article 116 of the Constitution, and to assure continuity of public service in the matter of receipts and expenditures, set to work at the preparation of the budgets for their departments for 1920-21. By a dispatch dated March 22, 1920, the Department of Finance sent the draft budgets to Mr. A. J. Maumus, Acting Financial Adviser, for preliminary study by that official. But the Acting Adviser replied to the Department by a letter, of March 29: "I suggest that, in view of the early return of Mr. John McIlhenny, the Financial Adviser, measures be taken to postpone all discussion regarding the said draft budgets between the different departments and the Office [of the Financial Adviser] to permit him to take part in the discussions." Nevertheless, the regular session was opened on the constitutional date, Monday, April 5, 1920. Mr. John McIlhenny, the titular Financial Adviser, absent in the United States since October, 1919, on a financial mission for the Government, prolonged his stay in America, detained no doubt by the insurmountable difficulties in the accomplishment of his mission (the placing of a Haitian loan on the New York market). Since on the one hand the Adviser could not overcome these difficulties, and on the other hand his presence at Port-au-Prince was absolutely necessary for the preparation of the budget in conformity with the Constitution and the Haitian-American Convention, the Government deemed it essential to ask him to return to Port-au-Prince for that purpose. The Government in so doing secured the good offices of the American Legation, and Mr. McIlhenny returned from the United States about the first of June. The Legislature had already been in session almost two months. About June 15 the Adviser began the study of the budget with the secretaries. The conferences lasted about twelve days, and in that time, after courteous discussions, after some cuts, modifications, and additions, plans for the following budgets were agreed upon: 1. Ways and Means 2. Foreign Relations 3. Finance and Commerce 4. Interior On Monday, July 12, at 3.30, the hour agreed upon between the ministers and the Adviser, the ministers met to continue the study of the budget which they wanted to finish quickly.... Between 4 and 4:30 the Secretary of Finance received a letter from the Adviser which reads as follows: "I find myself obliged to stop all study of the budget until certain affairs of considerable importance for the welfare of the country shall have been finally settled according to the recommendations made by me to the Haitian Government. "Please accept, Mr. Secretary, the assurance of my highest consideration, JOHN MCILHENNY" Such an unanticipated and unjustifiable decision on the part of Mr. McIlhenny, an official attached to the Ministry of Finance, caused the whole Government profound surprise and warranted dissatisfaction.... On July 13 the Department of Finance replied to the Financial Adviser as follows: "I beg to acknowledge your letter of July 12, in which you say, 'I find myself obliged, etc....' "In taking note of this declaration, the importance and gravity of which certainly cannot escape you, I can only regret in the name of the Government: "1. That you omitted to tell me with the precision which such an emergency demands what are the affairs of an importance so considerable for the welfare of the country and the settlement of which, according to the recommendations made by you, is of such great moment that you can subordinate to that settlement the continuation of the work on the budget? "2. That you have taken such a serious step without considering that in so doing you have divested yourself of one of the essential functions which devolves upon you as Financial Adviser attached to the Department of Finance. "The preparation of the budget of the state constitutes one of the principal obligations of those intrusted with it by law, because the very life of the nation depends upon its elaboration. The Legislature has been in session since April 5 last. By the Constitution the draft budgets and the general accounts should be submitted to the legislative body within eight days after the opening of the session, that is to say by April 13. The draft budgets were sent to your office on March 22. "By reason of your absence from the country, the examination of these drafts was postponed, the acting Financial Adviser not being willing to shoulder the responsibility; we refer you to his letters of March 29 and of April 17 and 24. Finally ... you came back to Port-au-Prince, and after some two weeks, you began with the secretaries to study the draft budgets. "The Government therefore experiences a very disagreeable surprise on reading your letter of July 12. It becomes my duty to inform you of that disagreeable surprise, to formulate the legal reservations in the case, and to inform you finally that you bear the sole responsibility for the failure to present the budget in due time. "FLEURY FEQUIERE, Secretary of Finance" On July 19, Mr. Bailly-Blanchard, the American Minister, placed in the hands of the President of the Republic a memorandum emanating from Mr. McIlhenny, in which the latter formulates against the Government complaints sufficient, according to him, to explain and justify the discontinuance of the preparation of the budget, announced in his letter of July 12. _Memorandum of Mr. McIlhenny_ I had instructions from the Department of State of the United States just before my departure for Haiti, in a passage of a letter of May 20, to declare to the Haitian Government that it was necessary to give its immediate and formal approval: 1. To a modification of the Bank Contract agreed upon by the Department of State and the National City Bank of New York. 2. To the transfer of the National Bank of the Republic of Haiti to a new bank registered under the laws of Haiti to be known as the National Bank of the Republic of Haiti. 3. To the execution of Article 15 of the Contract of Withdrawal, prohibiting the importation and exportation of non-Haitian money, except that which might be necessary for the needs of commerce in the opinion of the Financial Adviser. 4. To the immediate vote of a territorial law which has been submitted to the Department of State of the United States and which has its approval. On my arrival in Haiti I visited the President with the American Minister and learned that the modifications of the bank contract and the transfer of the bank had been agreed to and the only reason why the measure had not been made official was because the National City Bank and the National Bank of Haiti had not yet presented to the Government their full powers. He declared that the Government did not agree to the publication of a decree executing the Contract of Withdrawal because it did not consider that the economic condition of the country justified it at that time. To which I replied that the Government of the United States expected the execution of Article 15 of the Contract of Withdrawal as a direct and solemn engagement of the Haitian Government, to which it was a party, and I had instructions to insist upon its being put into execution at once.... _The Counter Memoir_ To this memorandum the Executive Authority replied by a counter memoir which read in part as follows: "The modifications proposed by the Department of State [of the United States] to the bank contract, studied by the Haitian Government, gave rise to counter propositions on the part of the latter, which the Department of State would not accept. The Haitian Government then accepted these modifications in nine articles in the form in which they had been concluded and signed at Washington, on Friday, February 6, 1920, by the Financial Adviser, the Haitian Minister, and the [Haitian] Secretary of Finance. But when Messrs. Scarpa and Williams, representing respectively and officially the National Bank of Haiti and the National City Bank of New York, came before the Secretary of Finance for his signature to the papers relative to the transfer of the National Bank of Haiti to the National City Bank of New York, the Secretary of Finance experienced a disagreeable surprise in finding out that to Article 9 of the document signed at Washington, February 6, 1920, and closed as stated above, there had been added an amendment bearing on the prohibition of non-Haitian money. The Secretary could only decline the responsibility of this added paragraph of which he had not the slightest knowledge and which consequently had not been submitted to the Government for its agreement. It is for this reason alone that the agreement is not signed up to this time. The Government does not even yet know who was the author of this addition to the document to which its consent had never been asked." Today, gentlemen, you have come to the end of the regular session for this year. Four months have run by without the Government being able to present to you the budget for 1920-1921.... Such are the facts, in brief, that have marked our relations recently with Mr. McIlhenny.... FLEURY FEQUIERE, Secretary of Finance The Businessmen's Protest The protest printed below, against Article 15 of the Contract of Withdrawal, was sent to the Haitian Secretary of Finance on July 30. The undersigned bankers, merchants, and representatives of the various branches of the financial and commercial activities in Haiti have the honor to submit to the high appreciation of the Secretary of State for Finance the following consideration: They have been advised from certain sources that pressing recommendations have been made to the Government of Haiti. 1. That a law be immediately voted by which would be prohibited the importation or exportation of all money not Haitian, except that quantity of foreign money which, in the opinion of the Financial Adviser, would be sufficient for the needs of commerce. 2. That in the charter of the Banque Nationale de la Republique d'Haiti there be inserted an article giving power to the Financial Adviser together with the Banque Nationale de la Republique d'Haiti to take all measures concerning the importation or exportation of non-Haitian monies. The undersigned declare that the adoption of such a measure, under whatever form it may be, would be of a nature generally contrary to the collective interests of the Haitian people and the industry of Haiti. It would be dangerous to substitute the will of a single man, however eminent he might be, however honorable, however infallible, for a natural law which regulates the movements of the monetary circulation in a country. It would be more dangerous yet to introduce in the contract of the Banque Nationale de la Republique d'Haiti a clause which would assure this establishment a sort of monopoly in the foreign money market, which constitutes the principal base of the operations of high commerce, when it has already the exclusive privilege of emission of bank notes. Such a clause would make of all other bankers and merchants its humble tributaries, obeying its law and its caprices.... (Signed) THE ROYAL BANK OF CANADA; AMERICAN FOREIGN BANKING CORPORATION; HAITIAN AMERICAN SUGAR CO.; RAPOREL S.S. LINE; P. C. S.; ELECTRIC LIGHT CO.; PANAMA LINE; ED. ESTEVE & CO.; CLYDE LINE; COMPTOIR COMMERCIAL; GEBARA & CO.; ALFRED VIEUX; V. G. MAKHLOUF; N. SILVERA; SIMMONDS FRERES; ROBERTS, DUTTON & CO.; WEST INDIES TRADING CO.; J. FADOUL & CO.; R. BROUARD; A. DE MATTEIS & CO.; J. M. RICHARDSON & CO.; COMPTOIR FRANCAIS; H. DEREIX; E. ROBELIN; F. CHERIEZ; I. J. BIGIO, AND GEO. H. MACFADDEN. "By Order of the American Minister" Correspondence regarding the refusal of the Financial Adviser of Haiti, an American, but an official of the Haitian Department of Finance, to pay the salaries for the month of July, 1920, of the President and certain other officials of the Haitian Republic, revealing that the action was taken by order of the American Minister to Haiti, without explanation and without authority in the Haitian Constitution or in the Haiti-American Convention, was printed in the _Moniteur_ for August 14. I. PORT-AU-PRINCE, August 2, 1920. MR. A. J. MAUMUS, Receiver General of Customs In accordance with the suggestion made to the Financial Adviser on July 24, your office began on the morning of July 30 to pay the salaries for that month to the officials and public employees at Port-au-Prince. Nevertheless up to this morning, August 2, no checks have been delivered to His Excellency the President of the Republic, the secretaries of the various departments, the state councilors, and the palace interpreter. In calling your attention to this fact I ask that you will please inform me of the reasons for it. FLEURY FEQUIERE, Secretary of Finance. II. PORT-AU-PRINCE, August 2, 1920. TO THE SECRETARY OF FINANCE AND COMMERCE I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your note of August 2 in which you ask this office to inform you regarding the reasons for the non-delivery, up to the present time, of the checks for His Excellency the President of the Republic, for the departmental secretaries, the state councilors, and the palace interpreter, for the month of July. In reply this office hastens to inform you that up to the present time it has not been put in possession of the mandates and orders regarding these payments. A. J. MAUMUS, Receiver General. III. PORT-AU-PRINCE, August 2, 1920. TO THE FINANCIAL ADVISER The Department of Finance, informed that checks for His Excellency the President of the Republic, the departmental secretaries, the state councilors, and the palace interpreter had not been delivered up to this morning, August 2, reported the fact to the Receiver General of Customs asking to be informed regarding the reasons. The Receiver General replied immediately that the delay was due to his failure to receive the necessary mandates and orders. But these papers were sent to you by the Department of Finance on July 21, and were returned by the payment service of the Department of the Interior on July 26, a week ago. I inclose copies of the note from the Department of Finance to the Receiver General, and of Mr. Maumus's reply. I should like to believe that bringing this matter to your attention would be sufficient to remedy it. FLEURY FEQUIERE, Secretary of Finance. IV. PORT-AU-PRINCE, August 5, 1920. TO THE SECRETARY OF FINANCE AND COMMERCE I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your note of August 2, regarding the delay in payment of the salaries of the President of the Republic, secretaries, and state councilors. In reply I have the honor to inform you that the payment of these salaries has been suspended by order of the American Minister until further orders are received from him. J. MCILHENNY, Financial Adviser. V. PORT-AU-PRINCE, August 10, 1920. TO THE FINANCIAL ADVISER I acknowledge receipt of your note of August 5 in reply to mine of August 2 asking information regarding the reasons for your non-payment of the salaries for last July due to His Excellency the President of the Republic, the secretaries, and state councilors, and the palace interpreter. I note the second paragraph of your letter, in which you say, "In reply, etc." I do not know by what authority the American Minister can have given you such instructions or by what authority you acquiesced. The non-payment of the salaries due the members of the Government constitutes a confiscation vexatious for them and for the entire country. It is not the function of this department to judge the motives which led the American Minister to take so exceptionally serious a step; but it is the opinion of the Government that the Financial Adviser, a Haitian official, was not authorized to acquiesce. FLEURY FEQUIERE, Secretary of Finance. VI. PORT-AU-PRINCE, August 5, 1920. MR. A. BAILLY-BLANCHARD, American Minister I have the honor to inform Your Excellency that the offices of the Financial Adviser and of the Receiver General have not yet delivered the checks for the July salaries of His Excellency the President of the Republic, of the secretaries, state councilors, and palace interpreter, although all other officials were paid on July 30. The Secretary of Finance wrote to the Receiver General asking information on the subject, and was informed that he had not received the necessary mandates and orders. The fact of the non-delivery of the checks and the reply of the Receiver General were then brought to the attention of the Financial Adviser, who has not yet replied. In informing your Legation of this situation, I call the attention of Your Excellency to this new attitude of the Financial Adviser, a Haitian official, to the President of the Republic and the other members of the Government, an attitude which is an insult to the entire nation. J. BARAU, Secretary of Foreign Affairs. VII. PORT-AU-PRINCE, August 6, 1920. MR. A. BAILLY-BLANCHARD, American Minister I have the honor to inclose a copy of a note from the Financial Adviser to the Secretary of Finance, replying to a request for information regarding the non-payment of checks.... In his reply the Financial Adviser informs the Department of Finance that "the payment of these salaries has been suspended by order of the American Minister until further orders are received from him." My Government protests against this act of violence which is an attack upon the dignity of the people and Government of Haiti. J. BARAU, Secretary of Foreign Affairs. VIII. PORT-AU-PRINCE, August 6, 1920. MR. J. BARAU, Secretary of Foreign Affairs I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of Your Excellency's note under date of August 5. In reply I have to state that the action of the Financial Adviser therein referred to was taken by direction of this Legation. A. BAILLY-BLANCHARD, American Minister. IX. PORT-AU-PRINCE, August 7, 1920. MR. A. BAILLY-BLANCHARD, American Minister In reply to my letter of August 5 in which I had the honor to inform Your Excellency of the non-payment of checks, ... Your Excellency informs me that it is by direction of the Legation of the United States that the Financial Adviser acted. My Government takes note of your declaration. J. BARAU, Secretary of Foreign Affairs. The Concession of the National City Bank Simultaneously with the non-payment of the July salaries of the President and other officials of the Haitian Republic, the Haitian Minister of Finance received from the Financial Adviser, an American, nominally a Haitian official, but acting under instructions from the American Government, the following letter urging immediate ratification of a modified form of agreement between the United States Department of State and the National City Bank of New York. It was widely assumed in Haiti that this letter supplied the key to the unexplained non-payment of salaries, ordered by Mr. A. Bailly-Blanchard, the American Minister. The letter was printed in the _Moniteur_ for August 14. PORT-AU-PRINCE, August 2, 1920 TO THE SECRETARY OF FINANCE I have the honor to inform you that I have been instructed by my Government that in view of the continual delay in obtaining the consent of the Haitian Government to the transfer to the new bank of the modified concession as agreed upon between the Government of the United States and the National City Bank, the Government of the United States has agreed to let the operations of the National Bank of the Republic of Haiti continue indefinitely on the French contract at present existing, without amendment. I desire urgently to draw your attention to the fact that it would be most desirable in the interest of the Haitian people that the Government of Haiti should give its immediate consent to the proposed modifications of the contract and to accept the transfer of the bank rather than see the present contract continue with its present clauses. JOHN MCILHENNY, Financial Adviser [Transcriber's Notes: Spelling, punctuation and capitalization has been retained as in the original publication except as follows: Page 27: Changed "glaces" to "glacés" Page 40: Added closing quotation mark to paragraph opening with the words: "And Article 2 of the American-Haitian Convention" Page 44: Added period to end of sentence "It is for this reason alone that the agreement is not signed up to this time"] 
44974	----	Transcriber's Note: Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have been retained as printed. Words printed in italics are noted with underscores: _italics_. The cover of this ebook was created by the transcriber and is hereby placed in the public domain. A SHORT ACCOUNT OF THE EXTRAORDINARY LIFE _AND TRAVELS OF_ H. L. L.---- _NATIVE OF St. DOMINGO_, NOW A PRISONER OF WAR AT ASHBOURN, _IN DERBYSHIRE_; Shewing the Remarkable steps of Divine Providence towards him, and the means of his Conversion to GOD. Naked came I out of my Mother's womb, and naked shall I return thither: the LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away; Blessed be the name of the LORD. Job. chap. 1 ver. 21 Thy Righteousness is like the great mountains; thy judgment are a great deep: O LORD, thou preservest Man and Beast. Psalm. Chap. 36 ver. 6. WRITTEN BY HIS OWN HAND. ENTERED AT STATIONERS HALL. PRINTED AND SOLD BY PARKES ASHBOURN, BURDITT LONDON, AND PRITCHARD DERBY. _Price One Shilling._ _OBSERVATION._ It is not doubtful, (_as it is a common method in this world_,) that my life, and all what is contained therein, will be contradicted and criticised; but as it hath pleased GOD to reveal unto me the mystery of the way of the truth, (_of which I hope I am not ignorant_;) therefore I expect persecutions, contradictions, and criticism to take place; knowing, that whosoever will live according to the Gospel of CHRIST, must while in this vale of tears go through much sufferings and pains: for thus is the road that leads to everlasting happiness. Therefore let every true born soul know, that as our SAVIOUR suffered for us: so must we in return for the blessing of Redemption, suffer for his sake, _for unto us it is given, in the behalf of CHRIST, not only to believe on him, but also to suffer for his sake. phi. chap. 1. ver. 29_. I therefore leave to the public to say what they please of this book; but the GOD in whom I have trusted shall be the judge of it. Finally, the decisive day of our LORD, will put a determination to all our works, whether they be acceptable, or not. TO THE READER. In reading this little work, (_not only to read but to meditate_,) you will see the great disappointments that there is in those things, [_the riches of this world_.] which men put their trust. Oh! reader, art thou of that unhappy number? if thou art, delay no longer, but go to JESUS CHRIST, who is the fountain of durable riches, and take with thee the words of the _Poët_? "whom have I in heaven but thee that can thy creature bless? what were all the Earth to me, if a stranger to thy peace? all is vanity but CHRIST, pain and darkness, and dispair, rankling in a sinner's breast, till thou art present there." Art thou in prosperity, be Joyful, and praise thy GOD; art thou in adversity, consider: for GOD hath set the one over against the other, to the end that man should find nothing after him. Be not as those, which through weakness of faith, dare not trust their GOD, whensoever in poverty or distress; for I never knew of any that trusted in GOD, and were yet confounded; He surely will supply the wants of all those who being sensible of their sins, groan after him: and lo, (_says CHRIST_) I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world. Read, and read again this book, that thou mightest know, that wheresoever GOD hath a child, there will his eyes be, and that to protect him; though he may run to a certain degree of sins and wickedness, but at last He will snatch him as a bran from the eternal burning, and let him know, that it is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of his good pleasure to shew mercy. "Oh! had not GOD shown his mercy to me, where should I have been? in the broad road that leads to everlasting misery, yea in the dark and dolesome dungeon of dispair, without a glimmering ray of hope; everlastingly bewailing my miserable destiny." See how the words of the holy prophet prove true to my case; "I am sought of them that asked not for me; I am found of them that sought me not." Oh! if ever I am so happy as to reach within a blessed view of the happy possession of saints, what a debtor shall I be to mercy and free grace alone; to save such an ungovernable and unwilling creature as I: "Oh! my soul it is hard for thee to kick against the pricks[1]! thou, who hast so long despised, rejected, and set at nought the commandments of GOD, art now through thy SAVIOUR'S obedience and blood brought to know the way of Salvation." [1] I allude this passage to a Ship going straightways against the wind; for it is no more in the power of a sinner to resist the will and mercies of GOD, than it is possible for a Ship to go straightways against the wind. Dear reader, art thou a blasphemer, or a despiser of the words of GOD? if thou art, I will advise thee to take a warning in reading my case, and to consider about it, for fear thou shouldest be plunged for ever into eternal misery. Delay no longer to open thy case before the merciful GOD, though it should be ever so desperate; for He is all-sufficient, yea all-powerful, to plead the cause of thine immortal soul, and to bring to pass whatsoever thou shalt commit into his hands, for He ever liveth to make intercession for sensible[2] sinners, and to brighten their evidences for the approaching of a future and everlasting Glory. [2] Remember, that GOD makes us sensible that we are sinners. Didst thou ever read, or hear mentioned, of the compassionate invitation of our blessed SAVIOUR when He lived on Earth; where He saith, "him that cometh to me (_believing_) I will in no wise cast out, but I will raise him up at the last day." Perhaps thou say'st in thine own heart, CHRIST is no more upon the Earth that I might go to him. Knowest thou not faithless man or woman, that though CHRIST is no more upon the Earth, that He is the same yesterday, to day, and for ever; and hath the same power to save and to bring to heaven whom He will: and now that He is in his holy mansion, is He not still the same? yea, He is still entreating his Father on our behalf, and his bowels are always melting in mercy towards us his rebellious Children; and his most precious arms and pierced hands, which we ourselves have crucified, are always extended to receive prodigals and backsliders home: for I am (_says CHRIST_) the friend of sinners, I eateth and drinketh with them; therefore let him that is athirst come, and take of the water of life freely. _Oh! reader, whoever thou art, I pray GOD through Grace, that thou and I, might be of that happy and highly favoured number, that shall sing above with the innumerable legions of blessed Angels, the chorus of the victory of a wounded and suffering SAVIOUR. AMEN. H. L. L._ INTRODUCTION. Ever since the GOD of truth was pleased to open my blind eyes, and Lead me to the knowledge of the truth, I have often meditated upon my Life past, and how the divine providence of GOD, has delivered, and preserved, such a worthless creature as I out of divers dangers: I therefore think it proper and useful to take my pen, and give a short account of my Life, and my calling to the knowledge of the true and living GOD, hoping that by the Blessing of the Eternal JEHOVAH, it may be made useful to those who Love to meditate upon the mysterious ways of the wonder working GOD. I was born in the once proud and haughty Island of _St. Domingo_, in the Parish of _St. Rose_, of Ancient and respectable parents. My Father and Mother, were the most accomplished union according to their Religion and ways of worshiping; they were equal in fortune, for they had each a plantation, when united together made them an exceeding good livelihood. But I have not taken my pen for to write my parents History, but my own: here then my narration shall begin. In the year one thousand seven-hundred and eighty-three, the Sixth of September, betwixt eight and nine o'Clock in the morning I was brought forth into a World of troubles, and was baptised the twenty-fourth of November in the same year, by _Father Julien Capuchin Missionary Curate_; and had for God-father my Mother's Brother, and for God-mother my Father's Sister. From the day that I was born, I never enjoyed a good state of health; for I was so weak and Sickly, that I looked more like a Spectre than a human creature; for my Death was daily and Hourly expected, in me was seen the very picture of Death: I was in that situation till I attained my seventh year; when I was forced to leave a Mother by whom I was dearly loved, and a Father that cherished me above all earthly creatures. For one Morning I yet very well remember, (_though I did not expect it_,) my Father called me and my two eldest Brothers also, and lead us into my Mother's chamber, where I saw her weeping bitterly: when there I could not help asking her what was the matter that she was crying so; she made no reply but by sighs and tears; when in a sympathetic manner she took me up in her arms and pressed me with tenderness to her bosom and bedewed my innocent face with tears; it was with great difficulty that she consented to let me go; and then she kissed my Brothers in the like manner, when we left her to sooth her sorrows, and to console herself to the loss: in the mean time my Father handed us into our coach, and gave orders to drive away to Town. I was some time silent, effected by this sudden change; when looking through the window of the coach, I saw both my little Sisters stretching out their arms as if it were to bid me the last Adieu; the scene was so affecting, that I could not restrain myself but to ask my Father where we were going to; (_for I did not know any thing about that sudden journey_.) He satisfied me, by saying, that he was sending us into _France_ for our education, and that he would spare no expence to give us a good one. In the afternoon we reached the Town, and alighted at the Crown-Hotel: my Father being not well in health, we were obliged to delay our voyage for the space of three weeks; and when the appointed time was come to separate us from a Father dear and tender, I was taken very ill, in which state I remained for some days; at the same time the Captain of the Ship came to let my Father know that he could not wait any longer, and that he was to weigh Anchor the next day. My Father, though very ill, said, "well, they shall be ready to go with you to-morrow." (_I was then but indifferent in health._) The most affecting parting took place, he took us by the hand and led us to the Sea-side where we were to embark, and said, in the most pathetic manner.--"My most beloved Children! the time is now come that you must be parted from a Father, by whom you are dearly loved; receive for the last time from my almost dead lips, the pledge and tenderness of my love towards you; for I know I shall never live to see you again, so take the last parting of your Father, for you shall never see him any more; to day is the last time that you will behold the Author of your days: my duty forced me to send you into _France_, and your education will be a friend to you when in distress." Before we parted he recommended us to a gentleman that was on board, and that nothing should be wanted for our care. And then he withdrew, extending his arms once more towards us in the most distressing manner: so that we were filled with grief and sorrow to see our Father in such a melancholy state. We begun our course with a fair wind and good weather, which continued for several days. About twenty days after we were upon the Sea, the wind rose with such violence, that we expected every instant to be cast into the depth of the Ocean: we was in that situation for a considerable time, till at last it pleased the ALMIGHTY to appease the waves, and to send fair weather. We were seventy-two days in crossing the immense Ocean, at the end of which we landed at _Bordeaux_. Myself and my Brothers were received with great kindness by our Banker, to whom we delivered the letter concerning our coming into _France_. The next day we were sent to school in the same Town, to give us the first beginning of education before we could go to College. Three months after we were arrived in _France_, we received a letter sealed in black from our Mother, in which the Death of our Father was confirmed: his last parting from this World is too cutting to relate. ("_I hope he died happy, and hope to meet him in Glory._") Though I was so young, the impression of the Death of my Father plunged me into such a melancholy state, that soon after I was seized with a violent fever; no rest was to be found for a long while: in the strongest of my pain I used to get out of my bed and run about the chamber like a madman, crying out, "Oh! my Father! my Father is no more." I was in that state for six months, before my health was established. As my Father's desire was to give us a good education, he told my Mother when on his Death-bed, that we must be removed as soon as possible to the College: accordingly we were sent into the South of _France_, at the distance of two-hundred and twenty miles from _Bordeaux_, to the College of _Soreze_, one of the most eminent places of teaching that ever existed since the World began; for every thing, consisting of Arts and Sciences was to be learned. Here is an account of what the College consisted. Teaching Masters, ninety; besides ten prefects to maintain the police into the yards: and twelve-hundred scholars. Instruments of Music of all sorts to be learned; Latin, Greek, German, Spanish, English, Italian, and French tongues to be learned; Writing of different sorts; Reading, Arithmetic; Drawing of all kinds, both of Human-likeness, as also the Landscape: Dancing, both French and English; Ancient History, Chronology, Literature, Declamation, Fortification, Structure, Poesy, Rhetoric, Philosophy, Natural History, Geometry, Geography, Trigonometry, Statics, Fencing, Riding, Military Exercise, Natation, Architecture, Algebra, Mythology, Theology, Cosmography, &c. I took such a delight in learning, that all my Masters were pleased with my conduct; but this did not last long, for one evening the Director of the College called me and my Brothers, and said, "here is a letter from your Mother that I have just received." On opening the letter I saw these words. _My most beloved Children, it is with grief and sorrow, that I took the pen to inform you of all the misfortunes which have destroyed St. Domingo; your fortune[3] is lost for ever, it is only in your Education, that you will be able to recover it: my long silence would perhaps make you think that I have perished among so many Victims which were destroyed in that unhappy Island, no! the LORD was pleased to save me from so many dangers, that I might be useful again to you; and I hope that by his Mighty Power, He will restore you again to the bosom of a languishing Mother, whose arms are always open to receive your tender embraces._ [3] Behold, He taketh away, who can hinder him? who will say unto him, what doest thou? Job. chap. 9. ver. 12. _My dear Children, I can hardly hold my pen to inform you of the gloomy and unhappy end of both your Sisters; they are no more! poison has put them into the grave: for all the springs and wells were poisoned, by which perished many others also. Your Uncle and Aunt P.---- with their Children, in number thirteen, had their heads cut off upon a block in less than half-an-hour. Your Uncle V.---- was cut to pieces upon an hedge[4]. A great many of your relations I need not mention, perished in the most cruel manner: the magnificent City of_ du Cap-Francais _is burnt down to ashes by the Negroes; no more for the present Adieu, Adieu, Adieu; my poor unfortunate Children, Adieu. M. L. F. M. L._ [4] Being Persued by the Negroes, and as he was escaping over an hedge, his Horse alighted; where the Barbarous Negroes cut him in small pieces with their Swords. After reading this letter, the Director said unto us, "my dear little friends, I am deeply sorry for all your misfortunes, and still more so, that I am obliged to send you out of the College; but my means do not permit me to keep you any longer, you must be ready against to morrow morning, I shall bear the charges of your Travel from hence to _Bordeaux_: here is a letter for your Banker, that you are to deliver soon after your arrival thither." Never was a sentence more dreadful to me than this; torrents of tears fell from my eyes; my Heart was almost broken: I was in such a deplorable situation concerning these sad tidings that I thought I should never be able to see the returning of the Day. Clouds of Gloominess hung upon my mind; all the night long no rest was to be found, neither in mind or body; and was forced to rise up, as I layed me down. We begun our journey in a coach and went as far as _Toulouse_, a City, where we took a Boat, and finished our voyage by water, and arrived safe at _Bordeaux_. We went to our Banker, and were received with great kindness. During our residence there, the most atrocious cruelty was exercised upon the people of the Town[5]; Blood was daily shed by those barbarous race of Human kind, who cry down Government: nothing was seen but terror and abomination; the innocent Blood was continually running under the fatal stroke of the _Guillotine_, and every branch of Royalty was to be destroyed: being afraid that we should be apprehended, we were put at an old Dutch Woman's house not far from our Bankers: there we enjoyed some little comfort, being quite retired from the World. She being a protestant, (_and our banker likewise_,) she used to entertain us with a deal of conversation about CHRIST, and shewed us all the errors of Popery; but all this did not enter into my mind, because I was always thinking about my unfortunate fate. My Brothers used to go with her to Chapel, which was just by the house; but as for me I was so unhappy, that I never could constrain myself to go; though she used to say, "your happiness that you have lost, will be found there, if you could take upon yourself to go:" but all this was quite new to me, and I gave but very little attention to it. I remained with her till GOD was pleased to put a stop to the sheding of blood. [5] Alluding to the French Revolution. About that time I heard that my Aunt V.---- was arrived in Town; I hurried myself to go and see her: and found that she was married again, and to a stranger, who received me with the greatest kindness. He being a man that followed the Tobacco business, made a proposal to our Banker that we should stay with him as being near relations to us, which was easily granted: and we began to work with him in his business. At first he shewed us a deal of kindness, but it soon vanished away, for he became a tyrant to us, especially against me who was the youngest: many a time I went to bed with a hungry belly; I wanted all the necessaries of life, hardly clothes to put on my back, beaten shamefully; I was the greatest slave that ever lived, for I used to go to work as soon as it was light, and work till midnight: many a time I was so harassed and tired, that I used to fall asleep at my work, and awoke in the same place to begin again my slavery. I was so tired of that course of life, that I resolved to run away; accordingly I did, and went to my Banker for protection; but my pretended Uncle knowing of it, came and told him not to listen to what I said, that I was a Child and wanted correction. But he said unto him, "those Children are not yours, they are under my care, and for that reason I will not have them treated in such a cruel manner; and am sorry I ever let them go to live with you, but for the future I hope you will behave better." He promised that he would. My Banker bought me a suit of clothes which I took with me, and followed my barbarous Tyrant. When at home he appeared more reserve, but for all that, I could perceive in his dissembled face that he still bore a hatred against me. I was not mistaken, for he soon began again with me, and threatened to flog me. I rose up from my chair in a passion filled with despair, and said to him; "I am nothing to you, neither Child or relation, why should you thus ill use me? if my poor Father who is now mixed among the dust was alive, he would have taken my part, and not suffered me to be abused thus by such a Rascally beggar, and vile Wretch as you are[6]." He flew into such a passion, that he did not know what to do; till the Devil which was so powerful in him, excited him to dispatch me to the other World. For that purpose he seized a long knife[7] which was by, and run towards me to perpetrate his atrocious deed; but seeing him coming with such vehemence, I ran under the table, by which he missed his aim and fell all his length upon the floor: in the mean time both my Brothers jumped upon his back and were assisted by my Cousin and others, to take the abominable weapon out of his hands. He was in such a rage when he was set free, that he frothed like a wild beast. I took the opportunity while they were with him, to fetch a few of my clothes which was in the room next to that where he was, and coming again before his presence with my bundle under my arm, I said, "Brothers follow me, let this miserable Savage live by himself;" then I run from the spot and went to my Banker, and gave him an account of every thing that had passed. He was sorry to hear it, but said, "there is a Ship that is going to _Guadeloupe_ in the West-Indies, I will send you there as soon as possible: when there you will perhaps find an opportunity to join your Mother." [6] This was the first time I ever dar'd to contend with him, but the remembrance of my Father and former state rose in me such a violent spirit, that I spoke to him with such a Gloomy tone of voice, that all those that were present could not help but pity my situation. [7] No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper. Isaiah chap. 54. ver. 17. We were made ready for our voyage that was to take place in a few days; our Banker gave us a draught for one hundred Dollars, on a merchant in _Guadeloupe_. We took leave of him, and thanked him for the care he had taken of us during our residence in that Country. We began our voyage with a fair gale of wind, but it soon altered, and we were obliged to cast Anchor at the mouth of the River, and remained there till the weather was fair: the eleventh day seeing the weather and wind favorable we weighed Anchor, no sooner were we under sail, but there rose such a violent tempest, that we thought our endeavours would have been without success; for we were surrounded by dreadful rocks, and the Sea roared with such impetuosity, that it filled our Ship almost with water. Another Ship that was close by us, was already dashed to pieces against the rocks. Never was a scene more Gloomy, and cutting than this; for we had seventy Women and Children passengers on board, which put Terror into every Heart: nothing was heard but cries and Prayers. We were in such great dangers that no one had strength to work, and we left the Ship to GOD's mercy, expecting every minute to share the same fate as the other Vessel had. The most affecting sight was to be seen, every soul prostrated upon the deck, calling and exalting their voices for GOD's merciful protection; till at last a young Man who was a Passenger[8] started up and taking the helm, said, "my Friends do not despair, I will be bound to take you out of danger, revive your spirits, and help me says he, we shall soon get free from the rocks." So we did, and were relieved from perishing amongst frightful rocks. But for all that the wind appeased not, for it continued six and thirty days with great violence, very often we were near to be buried for ever in the Bowels of the Sea; at last we had fair weather and wind to proceed on our voyage, and arrived safe at the Island of _Guadeloupe_ at the end of fifty-six days. [8] This passenger was a Captain which understood the Navigable part of the river. After we were Landed, my Brothers and myself went to the Governor for a pass, to go and join our Mother who was in the _United-States-of-America_; but the answer he made us was this, "the Republic is a good Mother, besides that, the Island is besieged, and we want Soldiers." As we could not get a pass, we went to seek for the Merchant that the draught was drawn upon, and having found him, we offered him the bill which he took and payed us generously. My eldest Brother being a young man grown up, he made him a proposal to stay with him as a Clerk, and said that he would satisfy him according to his behaviour: my Brother accepted his kind offer willingly. As for me and my other Brother, being too young for any kind of business, we were recommended to an old Lady who received us with much humanity; for she maintained us for six months or thereabouts. In the mean time I began to tire of being without employ, and acquainted my old benefactress of my disposition, which was to go upon the Sea and learn to be a Sea-man; she said, "if that is your resolution, I will recommend you to a Captain that I know;" accordingly she did, and I went on board of a Privateer as a cabin boy: and a Clerk's place was provided for my other Brother; so we began our course of Life in the like manner as it is described. My rank being a cabin boy as before mentioned, I was to clean the chamber,[9] wash the dishes, and sweep the deck twice a day. [9] Called in Sea terms a Cabin. We weighed the Anchor and went a Cruizing: we were a long while before we took any prize; at last, one morning we saw a Ship, and immediately we chased her, but all our endeavours were without success, for we could not attain her though we sailed all the day long; and when night was coming on the Ship we were chasing tacked about and sailed back towards us, and when near enough she fired a gun, and made signal to know what Nation we were; but we did not answer the signal, supposing she was an English Sloop of war: so we prepared for the conflict. The enemy seeing that we did not answer their signal, did not doubt any longer but we were enemies to them; so they came as near as they could, and fired a broad side: as we were ready for them, we returned in like manner; and the engagement took place with courage and obstinacy on both sides; and fought for a long space of time without knowing what Nation we were fighting with, though we guessed it was English, but we were not sure of it. At length of time an opportunity offered itself; we hailed her in English, but no answer, in French, no answer, in Spanish, and yet no answer was to be had; so we did not know what to think of their mysterious silence. We renewed the Battle again with great courage and Boldness, and attempted three times to jump on board of her; but she always avoided it: our people were so enraged, that they unanimously cried out, sooner die! than let her go. We fought like Lions on both sides, from seven o'Clock till midnight, at which time a misfortune happened on board our Ship; a box full of cartridges and gunpowder blew up, and set the Ship on fire, which put disorder among our men. The enemy, joyful to see that spectacle, (_though dreadful_,) begun to shout aloud, Huzza! Huzza! thinking that we should soon be theirs, but they were mistaken; our brave Captain, who was an American, soon put the fire out, by dipping mattresses and blankets into the Sea, and then quenched it in that manner. We begun again to dispute the Victory till one o'Clock; and each side being tired at that time, we took a pause of about half-an-hour; and coming again to action, the enemy hailed us, "ah! says our Captain, well, we will be more polite than them, for we will answer though they were not willing to do it when we hailed them." Accordingly we answered that we were come from _Demerara_:[10] the enemy was so exasperated at the answer, that they answered back by saying, "you are a D****d Liar,"[11] and renewed again the battle with great anger and intrepidity; the bravery was equal on each part; our deck was covered with Blood and Dead Bodies; all our rigging was cut off by the bullets; our Bowsprit, and Fore-top-mast were cut down: the enemy seemed to be very much damaged, for their Fore-mast and main-top-mast, with their Bowsprit, were cut down. We were so tired and disordered, that we were forced to retire on both sides, after a conflict of nine hours, which was from seven at night till four o'Clock in the morning. After an hour of rest, we were employed to repair the damages we had received, and return into harbour; for we were in too bad a state to stay at Sea any longer. On our journey back we had the good luck to take two prizes, one came from _Africa_ laden with Negroes, and the other which was retaken, was come from _Norway_, loaded with gin, butter, and combustibles &c. We arrived safe in the harbour of _Point-a-Pitre_ in _Guadeloupe_. [10] Though we did not come from that place, we applyed the untruth as you see above, only that we might deceive them and pass for an English Ship; for our Ship was a great deal less then theirs: besides that we were much damaged, both by the Sea, and by Fighting. [11] They were come from Demerara themselves, and they knew that there was no Ship of war in that Harbour. We heard after that the name of the Ship was the Pelican, and carried eighteen Guns of nine Pounders, which were a great advantage over us, who carried but twelve Guns of four Pounders. I went to see my Brothers as soon as I was landed; the eldest was removed to another place where he thought he could do better, and the other took example from me, for he was just going out of the Harbour when I entered in. In a few weeks our Ship was entirely repaired, and we ventured again upon the Sea; our design was to go a cruizing upon the coast of _Brazil_ to meet with some rich Portuguese Ship. We steered our course for the appointed place, and met with a deal of contrary wind, and bad weather; but all this did not discourage us, for we proceeded on our way with cheerfulness, and now and then a glass of grog to drive away the care of past sorrows[12]. One day about noon we saw a Ship, and instantly chased her, we continued the chase till very late at night before we could come up to her, and when near we hailed, but she proved to be a dutch vessel, which disappointed us very much: so we left her to proceed on her voyage because they were not at war with us. We likewise went further on, and were a considerable time upon the Sea; till at length we begun to precieve that our provisions were short, and being a great number of miles from the shore, we were afraid of being starv'd with hunger; so we made haste to the nearest land if possible, before we should entirely perish of such a languishing and hard death, for we were perishing with hunger and thirst: every moment we expected to be forced to come to that most horrible and shocking point of eating Human flesh, and become cannibals for want of food. Many were so weak that they could not work, nor get up from the place where they lay. We were several days in that awful and pitiful situation, exposed to all sorts of dangers and evils; in the most painful of my agonies I swore that if GOD spared me to put my feet upon Land, I would never go to Sea again. At last the LORD smiled on us, and spared us once more: a sea-man who was watching at the top of the mast, shouted, Land! Land[13]. Never was joy greater in our Hearts than that day, to see ourselves set free from dangers, and safely landed at that most desirable and appointed place; and found that it was _Cayen_ near south _America_. [12] This is a real Mariners principle. [13] In famine he shall Redeem thee from Death. Job chap. 5. ver. 20. The Doctor went immediately on shore to provide food and refreshment, and ordered that no one should eat any thing without his orders; because, he said, "some will not be wise enough to content themselves with a little, and if our bodies which have been void for so long a time were filled all at once, it would undoubtedly cause our Death." So we were fed by degrees untill we recovered our former strength. We remained at _Cayen_ about two months, and then departed to go back to _Guadeloupe_. I was again hardened, and broke the Oath that I had made to GOD, by going again upon the Sea. About the eighteenth day that we were on the Sea we saw a Ship, and chased her; in the mean time that we were chasing, arms were prepared for the battle: and the Captain of Volunteers called me to take care of the arms which were upon a large box; so I kneeled down and clip'd a great quantity of pistols and muskets to prevent them from falling, and all their mouths were fixed towards my breast. Not long before I was in that posture, the Doctor who was below called me; I instantly quitted my post and ran to his orders: no sooner had I left my position in which I was before, than a pistol went off unexpected, and wounded the Captain of Volunteers in the knee. I was so surprised at this, that I thought, (_and even was sure_,) that it was GOD's mercy to spare me; for in the posture that I was as before mentioned, I could not have escaped being killed upon the spot[14]. [14] He shall deliver thee in six troubles; yea, in seven there shall no evil touch thee. In famine He shall Redeem thee from Death; and in war from the power of the sword. Job chap. 5. ver. 19 & 20. The Ship that we were chasing, when near proved to be a large man of war, and we being too small to attack her, were forced to run away, and happily escaped. I return, to the Captain of Volunteers, whose wound made such a progress that he was obliged to have his leg, and a part of his thigh cut off; and I, being assistant to the Doctor, assisted to hold his leg while he was performing the operation: all that did not prolong his life many days, for his time was come; he departed eight days after the amputation. We proceeded on our voyage for _Guadeloupe_, and arrived safe there. Having had so many misfortunes I thought that the Ship was unlucky, and resolved to go no more with it; so I asked for my discharge, and it was granted; but before I sought for another place, I inquired about my Brother who did take pattern by me, and venture to Sea: I heard that he had had good luck, for he had received fifty pounds prize money. My eldest Brother was in his place still, but a misfortune happened unto him while I was on shore; the Gentleman and the Lady where he was at; were at variance on his account, for his Master was jealous of him, and he was obliged to quit; having nothing to do, he determined to follow our example; and embarked in the same Ship where my other Brother was; they wanted me to go with them, saying, "if we perish, we shall perish in the arms of each other, and if we have good luck, we can work and live together in union:" but I could not be persuaded, I wanted to have my own way, for I knew that it was enough for me to bear my own misfortunes, without adding to those of my Brothers: so they both took leave of me, and went to seek their fortune. A few weeks after their departure I embarked on board of a small Privateer, carrying only two swivels, and seventeen men: we sailed and cast Anchor at the Island of _Marie-Galante_, to take some provisions; and again went out for Sea. Soon after, we met with a large Merchant-Man; passing by we hoisted an English colour to deceive her, and having men on board that could speak the English Language perfectly well, we hailed her; she was come from _Martinico_ and going to _England_, and had fourteen guns: our Captain said to us, "they think that we are English, but let her sail on, and when night comes we will attack her:" so we followed her at a distance, till the time was come to perform the intrepid design; coming near all was silent, and every one of our Men were ready to jump on board at the first signal; and when near enough orders were Given, and our wishes fulfiled; for we took her with very little resistance, and conveyed her to _Curacao_, a Dutch Island. The cargo consisted of five-hundred and fifty-four hogsheads of Sugar, twelve ditto of Coffee, and eighteen bales of Cotton; which when sold gave every one a prize of fourteen hundred dollars. Being young and foolish, I soon spent a great part of my Money with my comrades, in drinking, dancing, Gambling, &c. I was sometimes intoxicated for a whole week, and every night at the ball room, along with bad company. I was two months in _Curacao_, and spent five-hundred and forty dollars; after which we proceeded with a larger Ship, which was ready for Sea, in which we sought for a better fortune. A few days after we were out, another prize fell into our hands, which we sent to the place above mentioned; and proceeded on our Voyage, and went to _Bonaires_, a dutch Island, to take some refreshment. After we quitted that place, we perceived that our Ship had a leak, for we had fourteen inches of water in the hold every hour, which forced us to enter into the Harbour of _Porto-Cabello_, a large Spanish City on the coast of the _Meridional America_: we were there two months; and proceeding further, we cast Anchor at _Cocoa-madrilla_, a Spanish Town on the same coast as before mentioned, and remained there but a few days: we went out and cruized for a long while, and having captured no Ships we went into the harbour of la _Guaires_, another Spanish City, to take some provision, for we were short of them. During our stay there the Lieutenant of the Ship and two men went to take a walk on shore, and were taken up, and put in the inquisition, because they did not bow to the HOST: for as it was related to us by them, that when they were passing through the streets they saw a great procession of Clergymen, going with a large silver Cross, to give the Extreme-Unction to a sick person; they not knowing the rules of the Country, passed by, and took no notice: when they were examined, and found under French colours, the inquisitioner could do nothing at them, but release them. We went out of that abominable Harbour with the design to go back to the happy Island of _Guadeloupe_. On our way back we took two prizes, but were retaken again; so we went and cast Anchor at _St. Martin_, a French and Dutch Island, and were but a few days there; and straightway we sailed for _Basse-Terre_ the Capital City of _Guadeloupe_, and from thence to _Point-a-Pitre_, where I Landed my little treasure which consisted of one hundred and twenty pounds; as I had a Cousin there who was a sober man, I deposited the money in his hands to begin a small trade; and I was determined not to go on the Sea for a long while, as I thought my money would suffice me to live in a decent manner; when I was just going to begin trade, my Cousin was taken very ill of the putrid fever, and was in great danger of his life. One day he called me, (_he was then very ill_,) and said, "I have lent the money that you have deposited in my hands, to Mrs. Pero[15]:" I said, very well, you are wise enough to know what you do? he said do not fear, the money is in good hands. I did not care much about him lending my money, because I knew that he was too good to do me any injury; but growing worse every day, I began to be afraid; and was going to speak to him to inquire whether had Mrs. Pero given him a receipt or not, I was prevented by her, saying, "he wants some repose and you must not disturb him." She knew too well the matter, or she would not have prevented me speaking to my Cousin: she was nights and days watching in his room for fear I should speak to him. I had no witness who could testify whether she had given him a receipt or not: and was so tormented in mind about it, that I did not know what to do, till I saw he was dying, when I resolved to go into the next chamber where his trunk was, and look in to it if I could find any paper concerning my money: at the time I was looking into the box, she came in, and said, "what are you looking for?" a receipt I said, Madam? she knew then what I meant, and said, "do not be afraid, I have got your money, and you shall have it back again, whether your Cousin live or die." I was a little reconciled by what she said, but she took care that no one was present when she said it: and the day after my Cousin breath'd his last. [15] She kept a linen drapery shop where he boarded and lodg'd. I was very much affected at the Death of so near a relation, and went in the Country for a month to alleviate my sorrows: when I returned to Town, I went and asked her for my money, that I wanted it to begin some business: she said I will satisfy your request. And went to her desk, she brought me five and twenty Portugueses[16] which she laid on the table, saying, "this is the remainder of your money, here is a bill[17] of what I have paid for your Cousin." I took the bill and read it: there was so much for physic, and the Doctor's trouble, for board and lodging, for the funeral, and for goods of different sorts, &c. It was the most shameful bill I ever saw; I began to fly into a passion, saying "this bill does not concern me at all, besides, I am not compelled to pay the debts of my Cousin." She then began to grin, saying, "if you are so impudent and insolent you shall have nothing at all, because I am ignorant whether the money was yours." I was so irritated that I thought my anger would have choaked me, I did not know what to do, having neither attestation nor receipt; so I was forced with great reluctance to take the five and twenty Portugueses, and to leave the rest to her. [16] A Gold coin worth thirty-six shillings. [17] It was a forged one as I heard after, as the Doctor did not charge any thing for his trouble. With the little I had I bought some goods, and went to _St. Croix_, an Island belonging to the Danes, where I sold my little Cargo, and got double of my money: and after I had settled my business there, I went to _St. Thomas_, an Island belonging to the same, and there I purchased some other goods to go back to _Guadeloupe_, when there, I sold them for three times as much as they cost me: seeing fortune smiled on me, I took courage, and bought goods with all the money I was worth; but not being well enough in health to undertake the voyage, I trusted a friend with my business: he went to _St. Thomas_ again, and sold the goods at a very good price, and some others were purchased for to return; when only three miles from the Harbour where he was to land, he was taken by the enemy; which ruined me totally. I was then worth nearly three-hundred Pounds, but all was lost. I now began to look for another kind of business, and was recommended by some of my friends to a Gentleman, (_a planter_,) to be his Clerk, and to look over his plantation; but did not remain long there, though I performed my duty with zeal, and was loved as their own child; the reason was, I could not be happy from the Sea, though I knew it was very dangerous. I acquainted my Master of my thoughts; he told me to go and try again, and if I had not good luck to come back to him; for says he, "my house shall always be open for you." I took my leave of him, and went again upon the roaring Ocean, seeking after the fortune of this World: on our way we cast anchor at _Desirada_, an Island not far from _Guadeloupe_, and stay'd there only a few days. After we departed from the Island forementioned, we were some time without seeing any vessel, but one morning we saw a large Ship, which we soon perceived was an English Frigate; we lost no time, but put all the sails out to make our escape if possible. We were almost out of sight of the enemy, when the greatest misfortune happened unto us; our mast being too much loaded with sails, and the wind being very high, by which cause the mast broke, and fell down. Having neither mast nor sails to effect our escape, we were obliged to stay where we was, and were taken prisoners. We were well treated by the enemy while we stayed on board their Ship; and were afterwards landed at the Island of _Martinico_, and put under close confinement in a prison Ship. Being the first time I ever was confined, I was plunged into a gulf of despair and grief; every day I was scheming how I should make my escape, till at last I found a way for my purpose; and guided by resolution, was determined to fulfil my scheme. It was the ninth day after my confinement, when I, and two others escaped from prison, by breaking an iron bar which fastened the port-hole, and letting ourselves down into the Sea by the means of a rope: we swam about half a mile before we could reach the shore; having gained the land, I wrung my clothes, which consisted only of a shirt and trousers: we began our journey through a great shower of rain, and when passing through the town, the sentry called? we immediately ran away as fast as we could for fear of being taken again; but the third of our band being left behind, was taken again; and I, and my comrade proceeded on through brambles and briers all the night long; and when the sun was beginning to spread its beams upon the surface of the Earth, we entered into a thicket to hide ourselves, and take a little rest: while I rested myself my comrade watched, and so on by turns till the approach of night, which enabled us to pursue our way through its gloomy shadow. Being excessively harassed by fatigue and hunger, we endeavoured to see whether we could find some wild fruit to satisfy our inward wants, but all our efforts were in vain, for nothing was to be found through the darkness of the night; and as morning was coming on apace, we retired to an adjacent wood. In the pitiful and perishing situation in which we were, I could not help but lament my deplorable fate and condition; when on a sudden I felt for the first time, a glimpse of the love of GOD, and many ideas came into my mind such as this? rely on GOD, and He will help thee, and stand by thee. With all these thoughts I fell upon my knees, and began to pray in the midst of the wood, saying, as well as I could. "Now, O! GOD that I am in distress I call upon thy power and goodness, because I know that there is no other that can alleviate my pain but thou. O! GOD, though I am in trouble, yet I feel that it is good for me to be so, for I have a comforter to fly to; but forgive me that I have liv'd so long without doing the duty which I ought to have done towards thee, for it was nothing else but the pleasures of this perverse World which banished me from thee, and my misery and trouble has drawn me near unto thee: do help me, and guide my steps that I may fall into no dangers, and bring me safe back to the land where I come from; and with thy help O! GOD, I vow to serve thee according to my knowledge all the days of my life here on Earth, and hope to praise thee above when time shall be no more." AMEN. I did not quit my position till I thought I had full assurance that GOD would protect me under all my troubles and trials. As night was drawing nigh, we began our nocturnal journey as usual. Two days and nights were gone without having tasted either food or rest; when passing through a Village, an old Woman who was sitting before the door of her house, called us: I did not know whether I should go or not, but I said to the comrade of my misfortunes, let us go and see what she wants. Coming near to her, she said, "I know my friends that you are deserters from prison? be not afraid I will do you no harm, knowing what it is myself, for my Son is a prisoner in a French Country, and I should not like that any one should ill use him if he was in the same case as you are now." She questioned us upon many subjects concerning the state of her Son, and at last she said, "I think you must be wanting of food, since you left prison?" I answered that for two days we had not had any: immediately she went into the house, and beckoned us to follow her. Being in the house she told us to sit down, while she dressed some meat, which she did with great dexterity: and presenting the same to us, I said, "O GOD! since thou hast been pleased to provide food for us this night, bless it we beseech thee with thine own power and will." AMEN. The old Woman was much pleased to hear what I had said; and after we had satisfied our wants, she gave us some more meat tied up in a cloth, and shewed us the road that led to _St. Peter's_ Town: we thanked her for all her kindness, and proceeded on our march all the night long until morning, which forced us as usual to retire into some thicket or wood: there I began to thank GOD for having preserved us from dangers and pursuits till the present moment; I then took the cloth which contained our provision: having spread it, I called upon GOD to give his blessing. My comrade said, "you pray too much, do you think that GOD takes notice of what you say?" surely said I, because, if He did not take notice of what I said and asked him, He would not have provided for us: well says he, "all your nonsense will bring nothing but bad luck." After we had refreshed ourselves, I tied up carefully the remainder of our food, and said to him, if you desire to take a little rest, I will watch in the mean time: he did so, and when asleep, I went a few yards further and rested myself in prayers, for they were the best refreshment I ever could take; after my duty was performed, I was easy and full of an unknown joy which I could not describe. Some time after my comrade got up and told me to rest myself and he would watch his turn; but I told him that I was not wearied, and it would be better to search the wood, to see whether we could find any fruit; he agreed with my proposal, and we went seeking for some provisions, for ours were getting very short: after a long while rambling up and down, we found at last a great quantity of wild fruit of all sorts, some of them were very pleasant to the taste; we gathered as much as we could carry, and as it was already dark, we came out of the wood and travelled on as usual. We were several nights and days rambling up and down in the greatest misery, till at last one night we arrived at _St. Peter's_ Town: there I, and my comrade parted. I went on board of an Irish Ship which was in the Harbour, and he on board of another. I was well received on board of the Ship, but as I was very hungry and having had no refreshment for some time, I told them my situation; and they gave me some food. I was after introduced to the Captain, who told me that I might stay in the Ship and work with the other men: I was about three weeks on board working very hard, and receiving very ill treatment. One day a Negroe came on board about some business, and I asked him many questions about the people of the Town, and especially about two Gentlemen which I perfectly knew; one was a Knight, and the other a Baronet. I sent by the Negroe a few lines to them, and as soon as they received them, they hurried to come to see me: they were struck at the first sight to see me in such a deplorable situation, as they knew my parents, they could not help but mourn and pity my miserable state: they told me to go with them on shore, which I did with great pleasure, though I was ashamed of myself being very dirty. Arrived at their house I was put into a bath to wash me, for I had need of it; and clothes were provided for me: after I was dress'd I could not believe that it was the unhappy me, when looking at my ragged clothes which I had on but a few minutes ago; I was in a perfect state of happiness, for nothing concerning the necessaries of life was wanting for me. I was in that state of affluence for three months, and wheresoever they went, they took me with them, so that I was acquainted with the best company of the Town: but for all that I did not forget my GOD. Some time after they procured me a passage on board a Ship that was going to _St. Thomas_: all necessaries, both for life and body were provided for me, and ten guineas which they gave me when we parted, also letters of recommendation. We went out of the Harbour and sailed towards _Dominica_, where we cast Anchor to take some passengers, and from thence we sailed to _St. Kits_, where a part of the convoy were waiting for us, after to _St. Bartholomew_, for some other business, and from thence to _St. Thomas_, where we arrived safe after a good voyage. I went to the Gentlemen for whom I had letters of recommendation, and was received with great civility and kindness; one of them took me to his house while I stay'd at _St. Thomas's_. The first Sunday I went to Church with him and another Gentleman that I did not know, and that same Gentleman said to me after we came out of Church; "I hope you love GOD, young man?" I said yes, well, said he, "in all your troubles trust to the LORD JESUS CHRIST, and whatsoever you stand in need off, ask it in his name, and I am sure He will grant it unto you, for He has promised through _His Blood_ to make intercession for us." I kindly thanked him for his instruction, and he withdrew. I remained at _St. Thomas_ three weeks, and took an opportunity of going to _Guadeloupe_; but before I took leave of the Gentleman where I was at, I thanked him for all his goodness: he said, "you are welcome to stay longer if you chuse;" I returned him my thanks saying, I wished to see _Guadeloupe_. "Here is a purse (_says he_,) which I beg your acceptance of;" then shook hands with me, and retired, he one way, and I the other. I immediately went on board, and in a few minutes were out of sight of the place where I received so much kindness. I had a pleasant and short voyage, and safely landed at that most desired Island of _Guadeloupe_. I hasted to see my acquaintances; and having inquired after my Brothers, I heard that they were taken prisoners, and conducted to _Plymouth_ in great _Britain_. As I had nothing do and no desire to go to Sea any more, I went again to my late master (_the Planter_:) who was very glad to see me, and encouraged me by raising my wages, which made me apply the more to my business. As I did not yet forget my Maker, I daily performed my duty towards him who had been so gracious unto me. My master (_or rather my friend_,) soon perceived a great change in me, which he did not know what to attribute it to; at last he knew by some of the servants who watched me, that I was in the ways of Christianity: some times he used to plague me about it, for fun, but for all that he did not esteem me the less. One day having some company at home, that were invited to spend two or three weeks with us; I retired as usual after supper to bed, and knelt down: at the time I was pouring out my soul unto GOD in prayers, a young lady inadvertently passed by, and seeing my chamber door half open, stepped in; and finding me in the posture as before mentioned, she bursted into a loud laugh and rushed out of the room, and in a few minutes I had the whole company round me making all sorts of jests, some laughing till they fell down on the floor, others holding their sides with laughing, and others jumping and stamping, &c. It was indeed such a noise as I never heard before, for it was both a tragedy, and comedy. In all that disturbance I was as firm as a rock, and did not move from the place in which I was, untill I had fulfilled my duty towards my SAVIOUR. I told them it was very unmannerly to disturb me thus, in my most precious time: for prayers were my best delight and comfort, and without them I could not rest nor be happy. The tale soon spread in the neighbourhood about me being a devout,[18] so that I was persecuted daily by my own friends, but as I did not mind them, they were soon tired, and at last were obliged to let me be quiet, seeing they could not get master over me. [18] In England, if any profess Christianity, he is called a methodist, and in France or any other dominions appertaining to the same, a Devout. Three weeks after that scandalous scene, I was taken very ill, of the putrid and malign fever; three days after the Doctor gave me up, for I was so ill that he thought I could not recover. I was ten days and nights senseless; and saw wondrous things in my agony; and the eleventh day I came to myself again: my keeper said to me, "I hope you have prayed enough this time?" I did not know what she meant, but having asked her the reason why; she said, all the time I was senseless, I did nothing else but pray night and day untill I came to my senses again. I was a long time before I could recover my former strength again; and as soon as I was able, I went to my business. I then was melancholy with thinking about my Country, and Mother; as for my Mother I did not know in what quarter of the world she was in; notwithstanding that, I took my pen and wrote, first, to _St. Domingo_, and then to two or three other places where I thought most likely, but all was without success, for no answer was to be had. Again I wrote, and so on for about eighteen months without receiving the least tidings: which made me some how think that my poor Mother was no more. I was in such a low state of mind that my life became a burden to me, I could not find any comfort either in amusement or prayer; and when at prayer, I prayed not with such a delight as I used to do: so that in a short time I quite turned my back from the path of the truly and most blessed LORD JESUS CHRIST, and became again as wicked as ever. One day my master called me, and said, "the Negroes are in rebellion, and you must go to war and fight." He provided horse and arms for me, and sent me to join the cavalry that were encamped at a little distance from where we lived. Some days after I was at the camp, the Captain ordered me to go into the Town to carry some dispatches; I made some excuse, telling him to send some others; but he said, "you are appointed to go and you must for I dare not trust any other." I obeyed and went out of the camp, and rode to Town which was nine or ten miles distance from the place above mentioned; and not being able to return the same day, I waited till morning: but what was my great surprise at the moment I was putting my foot in the stirrup to return? an alarm was given that the whole camp were murdered in the night,[19] except one who escaped having on nothing but his shirt. We being the only persons that were spared, we were put into another company, and marched on the same day against the rebels, and were successful in all our attempts. I was for three weeks night and day fighting, some times wet through with rain, and at other times suffocated with the heat: all that while, I never knew what it was to lay down or take rest; neither having an opportunity to put clean linen on: but at last we returned into the Town, where we took some refreshment and put clean linen on, for we had need of it. No sooner was I refreshed, but I was ordered to carry some letters of consequence to a camp nine miles off; but as the road was very dangerous, I asked one of my comrades to go with me, which he did with great pleasure; we arrived at the camp without the least injury or danger: but it was not with the same luck we went back, for as we were passing through a dark Wood, (_it was then between ten and eleven o'Clock at night_,) a shower of musket balls were fired at us, which unexpected noise and hissing, so much frighted our horses, that it was impossible for us to lead them; they rushed through brambles and briers, and at last plunged into a dead Lake, where we had like to have been drowned; but our horses being stout animals, they swam and gained the other side in a few minutes. We made the best of our way through woods and thickets to escape the fury of the balls which were continually flying about us, and after having wandered a great while through unpracticable places, we found again the road, and rode as fast as we could to the Town: since that affair I have been in many obstinate and bloody engagements. [19] Oh! reader consider and meditate? see how GOD was pleased to spare such a rebellious Creature as I; and how Divine Providence distinguished itself by calling me alone, though I, with obstinacy refused to comply to its orders: but who can resist the power of the LORD when he says, I will and they shall, &c. "Oh! bless the LORD O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name: for the LORD has done wondrous things. He has lifted me up, and has not made my foes to rejoice over me." One day as I was reading the news-paper, I heard that _St. Domingo_ was in a state of tranquillity; at this I was determined to go thither: accordingly, I went on board a Ship that was going there; we went first to _St. Thomas_, to take some passengers, and for my dear Country we sailed, and arrived safe there. My first inquiry was my Mother; I was about two days rambling through the streets without hearing any tidings respecting her or any other relations; till at last peradventure I met with one of my Cousins that was in _France_ at the time I left that Country; she took me to her house and entertained me with loving kindnesses; and told me that my Mother was in the Spanish part of _St. Domingo_, at the distance of sixty miles from the place where I then was. Anxious to see the author of my days, I would have set out immediately, but she entreated me to spend a week or two with her, to which I agreed: we related to each other our misfortunes, and soothed each other's sorrows. Once in my conversation I was speaking of that barbarous and pretended Uncle of mine, who used me so ill when I was in _France_; I asked her whether she knew where he was, she told me that he was in the Town, and not far from the house; I was indeed amazed that such a wretch was still alive; she told me also that he came some times to see her; well, said I, if he comes I will be ready for his reception, for I am no more what I formerly was, [_a Child_,] that I should dread him. Two days after, he heard that I was in Town, and came to see me: as soon as he came into the house, my mind was struck with horror. He advanced towards me and asked how I did stretching forth his hand to shake hands with me; I refused my hand and said, Sir, I do not shake hands with people that I know not. "why (_said he_) don't you know me?" no Sir! I replied: "why don't you know your Uncle S?" no Sir! I never had any relation of that name: "why don't you remember you lived in _France_ with me?" no Sir! for I am sure I never saw you before to day, if I did, my mind does not afford me the recollection of your features: "how is it you don't remember me, who married your Aunt V.---- in second wedlock?" "Oh! yes I do now you execrable villain; retire from my presence, monster of iniquities; think not that you shall go unpunished, nor escape the wrath of GOD, for the sword of vengeance hangs over your head, and will crush you to atoms in an unexpected time that justice may be satisfied." He first blushed, then became pale, and without replying left the house; and I saw him no more while I tarried there. My Cousin was very much pleased with my reception of him; but as the time I agreed with her was expired, I thought of going to see my Mother; so I took leave of her and embarked in a long-boat which was going that way: in four and twenty hours I was landed at _Moutechristo_ where she resided, and was not long to find out the place of her dwelling, the Town being small. I will just let my reader know how I made my entrance: first, I knock'd at the door; when in, I asked her whether she knew me; she said no Sir; I asked her again whether she had not Children abroad; she said yes, "but, [_giving a deep sigh_,] all my hopes are vanished, for it is between thirteen and fourteen years since I have seen or heard from them." I then said to her, behold the youngest of them before you: she exclaimed in a transport of joy, "Oh! my Son is it you? my dear H.---- is still existing?" and then fainted: but was not long in that state, for her exceeding joy soon called her to her senses again. My hard heart was melted in an instant; I could no longer withstand that filial love; I threw myself into those arms which were so desirous and eager to welcome me to that breast which was so ardently panting for me: our joy was so great on both sides, that neither of us could utter a word. Our language was only by sighs: and those precious tears which bedewed my face when I first parted with her, were once more mixed with mine. Our arms interwove in each other as an emblem of the most affecting tenderness. In that posture we remained a long time, so much were our feelings affected, that we could not utter a single word. Some time afterwards, she shewed me my little Brother and Sister, by her second husband; and dispatched my Brother to go and fetch my Father-in-law who was then at the farm, a little distance from the Town. In the mean time she said to me; "your Father-in-law is an honest man? he is not like many others, but he is a true Father that I have met with for you;" she then asked me where my Brothers were; I told her they were taken prisoners by the English and conveyed to England: at the same time my Father-in-law came into the house, which interrupted our conversation. He seemed to be very joyful of my arrival, and treated me with the greatest kindness. This was the happiest moment I ever enjoyed, being in the bosom of my friends. But all this happiness did not last long, for the Negroes rose up again, and killed every white man that fell into their hands. I was then compelled to stand in my own defence, as a foot soldier; every night, alarms were given, for the blacks were at the gates of the Town: but having received reinforcement, they were repulsed. Afterwards I was sent to garrison, fifteen miles off, where I stay'd four and twenty days; at my return my little Brother fell sick of the fever, and died in two days after; which put my Mother and Father-in-law in such distress of mind, that I thought they would have followed, especially my Father-in-law, for he was a man of very tender feelings: but by degrees and length of time, their griefs were dispersed. Five months were expired since my arrival at my Mother's. I was daily upon guard, or doing some other things respecting the warfaring business. One day being on guard, I was informed of the arrival of both my Brothers; I immediately ran home, and found it was so; my joy was inexpressible at the sight of them, particularly at the eldest, who was, and always has been my most intimate friend: it was then five years and some months since they were taken prisoners; during that time I never heard from them, which made me think many times that they were no more in this World. Soon after, the report of their arrival was spread in the Town; and coming to the ears of the commander of the place, they were sent for by his orders, and enrolled[20] them into a company of foot soldiers. The duty was hard, the rebels being daily about us, and almost every night there was some fighting or attempt. One day after a very bloody engagement that was fought at the advanced post, I was sent thither with the company which I was in to reinforce them, in case they should be attacked again: I stay'd there four and twenty days, and was relieved by my eldest Brother. The day after I took leave of him, and returned into the Town. As soon as I arrived, my Mother sent me to the Metropolis about some business. When there, the troubles were so great, that no one was in safety of their lives: three days after my arrival, a strong battle took place, and lasted from four o'Clock in the morning till six in the evening. The day after I was occupied in doing the errand for my Mother; and as soon as I had done, I wrote a letter to her, sending an account of all the business; and told her she must not expect me to return, nor perhaps see me more; telling her my reason was, that _St. Domingo_ was a place too dangerous for me to remain in any longer: and told her not to be uneasy about me, for I had already taken shipping. [20] May it please GOD to enrol them in the Royal Regiment of Saints, commanded by his most truly and Honorable Son, the LORD JESUS CHRIST. We set out the 3d of May 1803, from the harbour of _St. Domingo_: I bid my distressed Country once more Adieu; thinking to myself it is perhaps the last. My intention when I embarked was, to go to _St. Malo_, and take shipping there for the coast of _Africa_. I had on board a small cargo consisting of Sugar and Coffee, which when sold would have enabled me to begin a trade according to my purpose. We steered for the place above mentioned; six days after we were at Sea, we had such a rough wind, that we were obliged to reef our main and fore top-sails: all our efforts seemed to be unsuccessful, for we were driven amidst dreadful Rocks; and the winds redoubled with such violence that nothing was seen before our eyes but terrors; every moment we expected our fatal end to take place; we fired guns of distress from time to time hoping that some Ship would hear us and come to our assistance, if there was any about: but our endeavours were in vain, and we were cast in the midst of the Rocks. The scene is too cutting for me to relate it in all its parts, for it was enough to unman the stoutest Sailor: every man was in the most profound consternation; nothing was seen before our eyes but Death, and that in dreadful forms. At every instant pieces of timber were swimming about the almost wrecked Ship; the water covered almost the deck. We were in that deplorable situation till morning; and to our great joy, a Ship offered itself to our view[21]; we immediately put the long-boat out to Sea, to go to the Ship for refuge: I flung myself into the boat with what I valued most, and five other men did likewise. As our boat was too small to carry all the people, several were obliged to remain upon the wreck of the Ship, till we could return with the other Ship's boat to save them. We rowed away the boat, and went to the Ship that was in view; when there, the Captain asked me if all the people were come; I told him no, because our boat was too small to carry them, and we came to beg his assistance, for those miserable Creatures which are now upon the remainder of the wreck. He said, "they may save themselves if they can, but as for me I cannot go, the weather is too favorable for me to lose a minutes time; you may go back if you like to save them; but as for me, I will go my way." So he sailed, and we went with him; the others remained upon the wreck of the Ship, in the midst of a wide Ocean, without either help or hope. The Ship which saved me was a French Ship, and steered for his own place. [21] When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee. Isaiah. chap. 43, ver. 2. The 21st day of June 1803, being at Sea, we were met by an English Vessel who told us that war was declared between _France_ and _England_, and for that reason we were taken prisoners, and conducted to _Plymouth_. I stay'd 35 days in _Plymouth_, and was sent after to _Tiverton_ in _Devonshire_ upon _Parole_ of _Honour_; there I remained five months, and was sent afterwards to _Ashbourn_ in _Derbyshire_. I arrived at _Ashbourn_ the 17th of december 1803, and was in such a deplorable state of mind, that I did not know what to do. Very often the public house was the place where I went to seek comfort, by getting intoxicated, and then casting all my sorrows behind me; I after awhile took such a delight in this course of life, that it became quite an habit to me; I was the greatest Sabbath breaker that ever existed; I was daily fighting or swearing the most execrable Oaths, which was enough to excite the anger of GOD against me. One morning being half drunk, I went out to take a walk; when passing through a dark foot path, I was persuaded by some evil spirit to put an end to my miserable life. For that purpose I went into the darkest part of the place, and took my knife out of my pocket to accomplish the horrid deed.--The instrument was already lifted up, and the stroke was to ensue; but an Angel of the LORD, (_or some thing of that kind_,) stopped my rebellious hand, and my weapon dropped from it; then many ideas came into my mind such as these, "Oh! miserable wretch, art thou going to plunge thyself into eternal misery? remember thou art going into Hell head-long, if thou dost such a thing:" I was struck with terror with those ideas, and was so frighted, that I durst not move from the place for fear that the justice of an avenging GOD should fall upon me. I stay'd in that place for some time, and went home with such a burden, that I could hardly bear: having my head cast down as if I was a criminal, for I durst upon no account lift it up. I was for several days in a such distressed state of mind, that I had not courage enough to go out; for I thought every body knew what was the matter with me; and to appease my wounded conscience, I thought that a reformation would have been sufficient to justify me in the sight of GOD: so that I began to build, as it is said upon a sandy foundation, by performing a few formal duties; thinking that by my good works, I should merit the favours of GOD so as to forgive me all my trespasses. The plan I had formed was this: having a Roman Catholic prayer book, I thought it was all-sufficient to calm my troubled breast, and to bring me to a perfect state of happiness. So every night and morning I used to kneel down, and taking the prayer book I read the morning and evening prayer; this performance I thought would please GOD, and get me from under the terrors of an accused conscience: but in all these vain duties I never looked to JESUS for forgiveness or remission of sins, neither to his precious and cleansing blood, nor could I perceive the depravity of my corrupted nature: but I depended wholly upon my best endeavours and good works. I continued but a little time in doing those erroneous duties, and felt insensibly at last that all my fears were vanished away; I was like the dog, returning to his vomit again: for I begun the same method as before, keeping all sorts of bad company, and breaking the sabbath with drinking, swearing and fighting &c. I was at the least five days drunk in the week, and always quarrelling. One day in one of my mad fits, (_though I was not drunk_,) I resolved to delay no longer to put an end to my miserable existence; for that purpose I went into a garden near by: the same instrument that had been lifted up before, was again employed; I was in such great despair, that I was relentless towards my own life and happiness; so that I lifted up my sanguinary hand and struck my left breast twice[22].--I fell down senseless; some persons who were near, hearing the exclamation I made, which was, Oh! Mother, I shall never see thee again! came to see what was the matter; and to their great surprise, found me wallowing in my own blood. They carried me into my room for dead, and some person went to fetch the Doctor. As soon as the Doctor saw my wounds, which were through my lungs, he said, I can be of no use to him, for he has not ten minutes to live; but if he does, I may be of service to him: and went away. But he was soon fetched back again for I was not dead. When he came the second time, he gave me something to drink which recalled me to my senses: my inside being full of blood, he thought it would be proper to bleed me, it might ease me a little, for I could hardly breathe. After I was bled I fell into a swoon; the Doctor then said, if he lives till one o'Clock it will be a wonder. Some-body went to fetch a Catholic Minister[23], who lived in the same Town; when he saw me, he told me to recommend my soul to GOD, saying, that I had but a few minutes to live: and after this short exhortation he went out of the room, saying, it was too much for him to see. [22] I have sinned: what shall I do unto thee, O thou preserver of men? why hast thou set me as a mark against thee, so that I am a burden to myself. Job, chap. 7. ver. 20. [23] I did not know for what purpose they went for him; but I supposed it was to administer unto me the Extreme-Unction; for as it is reported among the Roman Catholic that a man or woman dying without having received the Extreme-Unction, (_which they call a Sacrament_,) must either go to Hell, or in Purgatory. I was restless all the night, for I could not sleep on account of the soreness of my wounds. When morning came I was so weak and so feverish, that the Doctor thought I could not live to see the sun set. Night came, and yet alive: but I was so tormented with ideas as before mentioned, that I durst not shut my eyes for fear I should awake in Hell. I was three nights without taking the least rest; for I was afraid to fall asleep, as I made it a sure thing in my mind, that if I fell asleep, I should awake no more. I felt myself in such a miserable condition, that I thought GOD would never forgive me. All the time I was in bed, I lay upon thorns as it were; for I was so filled with grief and sorrow, occasioned by my misbehaviour towards the everlasting being, that my life was quite miserable. During the time of my affliction, I had such ideas and thoughts concerning my state, that I appeared to myself the vilest of men; but for all that I did not know from whence came these thoughts and ideas. I was six or seven weeks before I could walk out; and was a great while before I could get any strength. I was five months in the most distressing state of mind, and continually tormented by some thing or other, which I could not discern. Some times I went out to meditate a little, but no sooner was I out, but was forced to return home again; because I could not rest any where. One day after many dreadful and frightful ideas, I felt some thing extraordinary in me; and then for the first time, I perceived that I was a sinner[24]; and one beyond expression: I saw the horrible state in which I was plunged; I felt that I was upon the very brink of destruction: and felt also, that no one could alleviate my pains but GOD. For that purpose I went to church; when there, I could hear nothing that could do me any good. At night I went to the Methodist Chapel; there I did not find any comfort so as to set me free. When at home, I went to prayer; but could say nothing but the LORD's prayer, which I knew from my infancy. [24] Though I had had a taste and a view of the love of GOD, (_as you may read in the former part of my life_,) and a great desire to serve and worship him; yet I did not feel the corruption of my fallen nature, neither the great weight and burden of my inveterate sins and transgressions: I was far from thinking of the inestimable worth and want of a precious SAVIOUR. I had a zeal, but not according to knowledge; I was like that sect which the Apostle Paul speaks of in the tenth chapter of Romans and the third verse: for they, being ignorant of GOD's Righteousness, and going about to establish their own Righteousness, have not submitted themselves unto the Righteousness of GOD. "I thank GOD, through the LORD JESUS CHRIST, that He has subjected me unto his blessed and Everlasting Righteousness; and made me sensible of this, that without the Blood of his dear Son, my sins must for ever remain." I spent the week in reading the new Testament; and longed daily with impatience for the return of Sabbath, that I might try again to seek a place where I could lay all my burden. When that happy day was come, I went to SION Chapel: the text was taken out of the twenty-seventh chapter of the Prophet Isaiah, the last verse; "and it shall come to pass when the great trumpet shall be blown" &c. I was very attentive at the preaching, in hopes I could hear some passage that might comfort my distressed mind. The Minister brought forward the Brazen Serpent in his discourse, saying, when Moses lifted it up, he said, whosoever shall believe in it, shall be saved; for thus shall the Son of man be lifted up. I felt a little comfort from these words, but not sufficient to calm my troubled mind; because of the weakness of my faith. As I had not heard sufficient, I went at night to the Methodist Chapel. I did not dislike the sermon, but did not feel so much there as I did at SION Chapel: I spent the week rather better than I did the last, and was not so much distressed. One morning I went to take a walk, when fifty yards from the house, I remembered I had not served GOD when I got up; I was so struck with shame, that I ran back to my chamber to say my prayers. Such a thing as that happened unto me three times, but was always overcome by the fear of GOD, for I durst not on any account go out of my room except I had render'd thanks to GOD for his protecting grace and mercy; for I thought, that if I was to neglect, his wrath would fall upon me &c. Sunday came, which I longed for with so much impatience; and with joy I went again to SION Chapel. The text was taken out of the Epistle of Paul to the Philippians, the third chapter, and the ninth verse; "and be found in him." The very word of "be found in him," went deeply to my heart, and proved sweet to it; for it comforted me and released me from all my guilty fears; and convinced me of all the errors we are liable to by Nature. I was so overjoyed at that sermon, that I could not depart from the place till I had spoken to the Minister[25]; to tell him the benefit I had received under his labour. I went home joyful at what I had heard and tasted, and I cast all my cares and sorrows away: and was only thinking to serve him who shed his blood for me. [25] the Reverend Samuel Franklin, of _Ebley in Gloucestershire_, Minister in Lady Huntingdon's connection, then at _Ashbourn in Derbyshire_. Now persecution began to take place by my worldly companions; they called me all sorts of shameful names[26], even threatened me with punishment if I did continue in hearing the word of GOD. I could not go through the streets without meeting with some ill treatment from them; but as I did not mind what they said, I told them I would sooner go to the scaffold and suffer Death, than renounce JESUS CHRIST. Their persecutions continued for a long time, but seeing I did not take any notice, they were obliged to let me go in peace. [26] My friends scorn me; but mine eye poureth out tears unto GOD. Job, chap. 16, ver. 20. I went to no other place of worship but SION, where I first found the treasure of the _Crucified One_. Some times I thought myself too unworthy to be saved; but at other times I had better thoughts, when reflecting on Paul, Manasseh, and other characters &c. The week before _Good Friday_ I was taken ill, and was obliged to keep my bed several days. In the mean time I prayed unto GOD to give me health and strength, that I might be able to go and hear his word that precious day he bought my Salvation; but it was not permitted; for that very day I was extremely ill, and wept bitterly because I could not go to SION my happy place. So I called for a new Testament that I might read a chapter or two; but I was so weak, that I could not read; and was forced to put the book down. In the afternoon I felt myself a little better, and took the book I read a chapter, by which I received some comfort. I was very patient under my afflictions, for the more I was afflicted, the more my mind was comforted; I did not fear the sting of Death at all, because, I had faith to believe I should be happy. In a few weeks I was entirely recovered, and the LORD soon after blessed me with the Spirit of prayer, so that I could join my friends in CHRIST in their labours. Now I am fully convinced that I am found, and brought back to the flock of whom JESUS CHRIST is the Shepherd: and I will adore and praise him for what He has done for me through Grace, and trust in Him for what He has promised to do. "O! most blessed JESUS, thou who hast been pleased to protect me through so many dangers, and watched over me ever since my youthful days; be pleased I beseech thee, to keep me now that I am found: I did not find myself, thou knowest; but it was thou, O! most blessed JESUS who found me when lost and ready to sink into the valley of destruction. Thou hast brought me from thousands of miles to shew me thy light divine, and to make me a prisoner of hope instead of a prisoner of war. O! Eternal THREE in ONE, look down on thine unworthy servant, and water his Soul with the dew of thy Heavenly Grace, that he may be prepared to receive that never fading Crown, which is at the end of the race thou hast enabled him to run: and help him to renounce all other works but thine. Now I forsake all the riches and pleasures of this world, for the Eternal life which was purchased by the precious Blood of thy dear Son JESUS: to which I beseech thee, to keep me now, and to the end." AMEN. THE _WEST INDIAN HYMN._ "_This my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost and is found._" PRODIGAL'S FATHER. Now though six thousand miles from home, Yet nearer to my GOD I come 'Twas JESUS' love that set me free, And brought me back by grace to thee, And JESUS will lead me to see; Eternal days. And now that I am found,--keep me That I may never go from thee: Thus fill my soul with thy free grace, That I may run the christian race, And see my SAVIOUR face to face; In endless days. Thou didst seek me when a stranger, In my guilt and road to danger, And to bring me home to my GOD, Didst interpos'd thy precious blood, That I might sing with saints aloud; Through endless days. O! blessed be the sacred Place,[27] Where I have found such Heav'nly grace, That sav'd me from my nature's fall, And give me on my GOD to call; O! JESUS at thy feet I fall: Through endless days. Till then, do thou in my heart dwell, Rule in it and do all things well: Lead me to that e'erblessed place, Where I hope to behold thy face, And help me thy foot-steps to trace; To endless rest. There I shall praise my SAVIOUR dear, While his own Righteousness I wear: I'll shout and sing redeeming love, Which did my first affections move, And never more will let me rove; Through endless days. [27] SION Chapel. _FINIS._ PARKES PRINTER, and AUCTIONEER, ASHBOURN. 
47511	----	generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) Transcriber's note: Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals. * * * * * [Illustration: ONE OF THE MAIN STREETS OF PORT-AU-PRINCE] HAITI ITS DAWN OF PROGRESS AFTER YEARS IN A NIGHT OF REVOLUTION J. DRYDEN KUSER BOSTON RICHARD G. BADGER THE GORHAM PRESS COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY J. DRYDEN KUSER All Rights Reserved Made in the United States of America The Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A. TO MY WIFE BROOKE RUSSELL KUSER THE SOURCE OF MY ORIGINAL INTEREST IN HAITI AND A NEVER-TIRING AID IN THE PRESENT WORK. INTRODUCTION Haiti is a country of rapidly changing conditions. Like others, emerging from revolution and disorder to peace and the pursuits of peace, it finds its possibilities unlimited. Furthermore, under the Haitian-American treaty, part of the government is being run by the Haitians themselves in the three departments: executive, legislative and judicial; and a portion is controlled by the United States, including the military. In such a two-party control, there is naturally friction and this causes frequent and changing disagreements. Whereas in January, 1920, the bandit trouble was serious, I have just found, during a brief November trip, that this has ceased to be an active danger. In its place there has arisen, not a military worry, but a political one. Haitian agitators, supported by ill-advised Americans, have spread propaganda favoring the withdrawal of the United States from Haiti. Included in this propaganda have been the absurd accusations against the marines of cruelty toward the natives. The question of any cruelty or unnecessary killings has been conclusively disproven by the findings of a Court of Inquiry sent to Haiti, and which has recently published its findings. As to the withdrawal of the United States from Haiti--such a course would be a menace to the world and a sad neglect of duty by the United States. Any American acquainted with Haitian conditions will agree that the marines would scarcely have boarded the American ships before the entire country would be in a state of civil war, the lives and property of foreigners endangered, and the possibility of Haiti paying off her foreign debt would be lost. As opposed to this prospect of revolution, we have a bright future for Haiti, if the United States remains. The country is naturally rich in its products and its soil, and labor is able to work for cheaper wages than elsewhere. This is a great incentive for American business to invest its capital, which means that the country will rapidly become rich again--as it once was in the French days. But unlike conditions in those days, the Haitian himself will share in the future development and wealth. J. DRYDEN KUSER. BERNARDSVILLE, NEW JERSEY. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I SARGASSO AND FLYING FISH 11 II CACOS 20 III EVERY MAN'S LAND--A BIT OF HISTORY 38 IV VAUDOUX 52 V PUBLIC EDUCATION AND NORMIL CHARLES 63 VI THE PRESIDENT 74 VII A MORNING HUNT 77 VIII PINE NEEDLES 87 IX COTTON 93 X Gourdes 101 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS ONE OF THE MAIN STREETS OF PORT-AU-PRINCE _Frontispiece_ FACING PAGE SIFTING COFFEE ALONG A PRINCIPAL STREET 13 DESSALINES _Following_ 20 THE "OPEN" MARKET JUST BELOW THE CATHEDRAL _Following_ 20 ENTRANCE TO THE "CLOSED" MARKET 28 MARINE PATROL _Following_ 36 HILLS NEAR MIREBALAIS _Following_ 36 CIVIL PRISONERS OF PORT-AU-PRINCE MAKING CHAIRS 45 WOMEN CARRYING IN TO MARKET BASKETS WHICH THEY HAVE MADE _Following_ 52 THE CATHEDRAL _Following_ 52 A SOURCE OF THE GREATEST GOOD--THE ROMAN CATHOLIC SISTERS AT ONE OF THE MANY CONVENTS ON THE ISLAND 60 THE HEAD NURSE AT THE PUBLIC HOSPITAL WITH HER CORPS OF HAITIAN NURSES 61 MAGISTRAR'S STAND OF WHICH THERE IS ONE IN EVERY TOWN _Following_ 68 THE NEW PRESIDENT'S PALACE _Following_ 68 "WHITE WINGS" OF PORT-AU-PRINCE 76 MARKET WOMEN LEAVING TOWN ON THEIR "BURROS" 77 TYPICAL "CAILLE" NEAR FURCY _Following_ 84 RAILWAY TO LEOGANE _Following_ 84 ON THE ST. MARC ROAD AFTER THE HEAVY RAINS 92 HAITIAN WOMEN WASHING THEIR CLOTHES IN A DITCH _Following_ 100 THE AMERICAN CLUB _Following_ 100 HAITI HAITI I SARGASSO AND FLYING FISH For the first two days out of New York harbor flocks of Herring Gulls followed us and occasionally an odd Robin and a pair of Goldfinches appeared. But after Hatteras was passed and the sea was calmer the gulls left us and flying fish took their place. Stationed at the bow I watched them dart out of the foam and skim, sometimes a few feet, often many yards. At night I took the same post and the phosphorescent "stars of the sea" shone very green against the yellow constellations above. By the third day ever-increasing quantities of sargasso weed appeared and floated past. Torn from their beds along tropical coasts, these bits of weed act as the shelter for multifarious forms of aquatic life which live as long as the weed lives and die when it finally decays. And so, although no sign of bird or other life appeared above the water surface, we were surrounded every moment by thousands of individuals of dozens of species. Our ship was the "Advance" of the American government-controlled Panama R. R. Steamship Company, which operates the service between New York, Haiti and Panama. Two steamers run to Panama via Port-au-Prince, Haiti, three are exclusively for Haitian ports, while the others do not stop at Haiti en route to Panama. Beside the Panama line there is the Dutch line of boats which runs from New York to Haiti on regular sailings, but aside from these two there are no other lines which regularly run ships to Haiti. And so the quickest way of travelling from Haiti to another of the West Indies is via Panama. [Illustration: SIFTING COFFEE ALONG A PRINCIPAL STREET] Coming south, the first land appeared on the fourth day, when the lighthouse of San Salvador, re-named Watling's Island by the British, showed the northern point of land long before the rest of the flat surface was visible. Bird Rock, the Fortune Islands and Castle Island were passed during the next twelve hours, and finally the high mountains of eastern Cuba were twenty miles off our starboard. Before these were out of sight, the peak of Mole St. Nicholas, Haiti, arose on the port bow. But we were by no means yet at Port-au-Prince, our destination, for it is a seven-hour sail from this point to the harbor in the lower part of the bay. The bay itself is over 100 miles long, and in the center of it is the Island of Gonave, 10 by 40 miles, to which all convicts were exiled from Haiti in the French days, and many of whose present inhabitants are descendents of these exiles. After we had passed Gonave, the mountain ranges on both sides became very close and we could see the smoke of many fires high up on their slopes. These fires, we later found out, were those of the charcoal burners, who play an important rôle on the island. The charcoal is obtained by placing the wood which has been gathered under a covering of earth in such a way as to eliminate the undesired gases and leave the charcoal. After sufficient time, the earth is removed and the charcoal carried for miles into town on the backs of "burros." Charcoal is used entirely in Haiti for kitchen fuel. Of the fires we saw in the hills, all were probably not those of charcoal burners, as it is the common thing for the natives to burn off a section of the land which they desire to use and to ascribe the fire to spontaneous combustion. At last the vari-colored lights of Port-au-Prince peeped forth from among the foothills on the right and we followed the channel in by alignment with two huge red range lights, one on the top of the Cathedral and the other on Fort National. The beauty of coming into Port-au-Prince is by daylight, when, not unlike Serrento, it shows a background of 2800 foot mountains rising behind, and with the pellucid green sea stretching out from the town. A Haitian launch came alongside for the custom officials to board. Our passports were taken to be kept for overnight and recorded, and we were then allowed to proceed to the dock which is at the end of a long pier jutting out from the land. As we spun along to the house where we were to visit we went over streets smoother and wider than all but a few in the United States. These streets, throughout most of the town, were put down under contract with an American firm in 1914, before American occupation of Haiti, and are of excellent quality. From the business district we came out into the Champ de Mars, a laid-out park with a bronze of Dessalines, the "Founder of Haitian Independence," in the center; and at the end a grandstand from which to watch the sports or national festivities. Next to the Champ de Mars is the new palace of the President of Haiti. It is now at a stage of near-completion, and one wing is already occupied by the President and his family. This building is the fourth palace to be built on the same site, one of the others having been set on fire and destroyed, and the other two ruined through explosions. In the latter cases the President had been unable to trust anyone with the keeping of the national supply of ammunition and was forced to keep it in his own palace, so that in both cases the Presidents were killed by means of their own powder. On the lower side of the palace are the marine barracks and the gendarme caserne, opposite one another, and above the Champ de Mars is the marine brigade headquarters. At this point starts the residential section of the town for both wealthy Haitians and Americans and other foreigners. We rode over narrow, quaint streets, after passing the marine headquarters, until we came to Avenue Christophe and our house, of old French style and with peaked roof, which was at one time used as the Presidential palace. Most of the houses of Port-au-Prince are of this old French style and show few traces of the original Spanish. Around all the better houses there are dense tropical growths with mangoes, oranges, and guanavena or sour-sap hanging over the porches. Many of the yards have also one or two royal palms, with their great white trunks reaching over fifty feet and with leaves clustered at the top. At the very tip of the tree's trunk is the heart, for which many trees are cut down, as "heart of palm" is one of the delicacies of the tropics. In the country districts both the royal and cocoanut palm are common. The two are somewhat similar but can be easily told apart by the crooked growth of the latter and also its darker and rougher trunk. The first morning after our arrival was cloudy, which was very unusual, for thruout the year in Port-au-Prince the mornings are almost invariably clear. So is the remainder of the day for the six months during the dry season, but in the wet season it regularly rains a downpour for about two hours late each afternoon. November is the beginning of the dry season, so for a couple of weeks after our arrival it would still occasionally rain for a few moments a day. But we missed having any of the truly tropical rains which during the summer flood the streets and sweep all before them. While the winter is for Port-au-Prince and southern Haiti the dry season, the conditions are exactly reversed in the northern half of the republic. There the wet season commences in November, to last for six months until the next summer when all becomes dry again. And so there is never a time in Haiti when half of the island is not being well-watered and the fruit and crops in season. II CACOS Although, in the days of the French, Cap Haitien was the capital of Haiti, to-day Port-au-Prince is the capital as well as the most important town. It is also the most modern town, being the only one, for example, to have the paved streets which I have referred to. In addition it has a good telephone and electric lighting system. The first morning's tour of the shops in Port-au-Prince made my former knowledge of fair prices useless. Goods which it was necessary to import from the United States, such as silks and American-made cloths, seemed exorbitant; perfumes and French clothes, imported directly from Paris at a low rate of duty sold at a considerably reduced rate from the New York price; but naturally the greatest difference in cost was those of native goods. Mahogany grows plentifully throughout the interior of Haiti and hence is easily obtained. Its price is consequently low and I purchased a solid mahogany small dinner table for $6, which is the customary price. But compare the price for such a piece in New York! And then of course the native fruits were either free along the roads or at a nominal price in the markets. Alligator pears, bought as a luxury in New York for 75 cents or a dollar apiece, sell in Port-au-Prince for 5 pears for 2 cents. [Illustration: DESSALINES _In the Champs de Mars_] [Illustration: THE "OPEN" MARKET JUST BELOW THE CATHEDRAL] In Port-au-Prince there are two markets, the "open" and the "closed," of which the latter is a roofed and walled structure and the former held without cover on an open plaza, directly beneath the wall around the Cathedral. Here, together with alligator pears, are sold bananas, limes, grapefruit, fish, meats, dry goods and odds and ends which are found in a department store. Here also "_rapadou_"--a native candy made from brown sugar and cocoanut--is for sale. This candy is also peddled along the streets and trays full of it are carried by the natives on their heads, whilst they continually call attention to their ware by calling it out at frequent intervals. Whatever a Haitian has to carry, be it an armchair, a piece of paper or a trayful of fine glassware, he carries it upon his head. They have in this way developed the ability to stand great weight and certainly one beneficial result is the invariably erect carriage of a Haitian caused through the necessity of always maintaining balance when he carries his goods. Up to within a few weeks of our arrival the native shops used to remain open in the evening. When we arrived, however, they closed each night at dark. This was because of a scare which they had recently received when a small band of revolutionary bandits, known throughout Haiti as "cacos," attempted to make a raid upon the town. In the old days of unstable government the natives had become accustomed to the existing government falling every time the cacos arrived, and they were not easily led to realize last September that it is no longer possible now that the marines are guarding the town. And hence for weeks after the attack the shopkeepers regularly shut themselves up in their houses at dark each night. For sometime after the Americans occupied Haiti in 1915 there were no organized uprisings, but within a year various causes have led the wild tribes of the interior to join together into various bands and attempt organized raids. The fighting of these cacos is extremely difficult for three principal reasons; first, the secret sympathy of some reputable and prominent Haitians and the consequent impossibility of obtaining any information from them; second, the nature of the country which permits the cacos to retreat into the mountainous regions which are wild and contain many caves and trails unknown to the whites; and third, the manner in which the bandits fight. Like the Indians they conduct a warfare of night raids and of sniping, so that only a sort of guerrilla war can be conducted against them. And then too, as the cacos are not in uniform, it is impossible to know who is or who is not a caco, except when they are actually banded together or carrying their arms. But results are being slowly accomplished. The towns are protected and guarded so that when an attack is made it can be repulsed and patrols sent out to round up as many of the invaders as possible. In the interior districts where the bandits congregate and make their rendezvous, expeditions are being continually sent out and the country honeycombed between the different hill posts. Near L'Archahai there is a cave which, dating from the earliest records of Haitian history, has been credited as being a bandit retreat. Here the cacos are still supposed to meet and go into hiding, but as the cave is a huge opening on the side of a mountain, and inaccessible unless a rope ladder be let down from someone already there, it is quite inaccessible and impossible to attack. In Haiti there are two different armies, so to speak. The gendarmerie or national army of Haiti consists of the enlisted men who are Haitians and of officers in charge of them who are American marines loaned to the Haitian Government, in accordance with the provisions of the treaty, to organize and train the Haitian army so as to make it an efficient fighting police force which is able to support, and preserve against attack, the existing government. The gendarmerie have abundantly proven, in many recent cases when they have been led by American officers, that they are thoroughly trustworthy and loyal fighters. Nor is there any doubt of their courage, for they are as brave as any body of troops in the world. The gendarmerie are used for guarding a town after it has been once freed from active cacoism, and everywhere in Haiti one sees their white and red stone headquarters. The gendarmerie are also used, together with the marines, to go out into the hills on patrols for routing the cacos and clearing up the country. The second army is the occupation force of American marines stationed in Haiti since the intervention of 1915 to preserve order and protect the nationals and property of Americans and other foreigners in the country. For those marines who are in search of real adventure and fighting, even those who were in the world war might well look with envy upon the men who are doing patrol duty among the Haitian hills. Alone or in company with the gendarmes, they have had encounters so filled with adventure that I will tell of one which occurred shortly before our arrival. Charlemagne Massena Peralte, a man who came from the Hinche district, and of natural ability as a leader, was of anti-white sympathies and early after the American occupation associated himself with a family named Zamor in the northeast country around Hinche. One of the Zamor brothers, Oreste Zamor, was formerly a president of the republic and another was the great leader of the north and is now in the Port-au-Prince prison as a conspirator. Charlemagne rose in the caco ranks to the position of chief and was so successful in his first encounters and attempts as to make the name of Charlemagne known everywhere as the supreme caco. Charlemagne was the clever and guiding hand of all the revolutionary attacks which occurred about this time, so it became of the greatest importance to capture him. Many attempts to do this were made by the marines and the gendarmes, but on each occasion his preparation for scouts and ways of escape made it possible for him to evade them. In October, the location of Charlemagne having been reported, two marines, officers in the gendarmerie, volunteered to capture Charlemagne. They made very careful preparations to set out with twenty gendares and disguised themselves by blackened skin and native clothes. Both of the officers spoke Creole well, but naturally with some foreign accent and so it was necessary for them to speak as little as was possible. When near the place where Charlemagne was reported to be spending the day, they met the first caco outposts who stopped and questioned them. Claiming they had an important message to deliver to Charlemagne, giving the password and claiming such extreme fatigue for the two officers that these officers could barely answer the questions put to them, the party succeeded in being passed. [Illustration: ENTRANCE TO THE "CLOSED" MARKET] A second and a third guard of Charlemagne's were in the same way fooled and at last the gendarmes came to a clearing. In the center of the clearing were gathered together a group of bandits around a fire, and at the side of the fire sat a woman. Behind her there was a sort of rude throne and here sat the great Charlemagne. Scarcely had the gendarmes seen the crowd collected here when they were recognized and a signal given. The woman lept to the fire and succeeded in brushing and stamping it out. In the darkness which followed, she and her followers escaped. But hardly had the signal of detection been given when Charlemagne was the aim for the gendarme rifles, and when a new fire was lighted he was found to be dead together with a few of the crowd with him. The belief in Haiti was a common one that Charlemagne was a supernatural being who was immune from rifle bullets or the weapons of his adversaries. In fact, he himself boasted that this was true. And so, upon his death, pictures of him were taken and these the marines spread broadcast throughout the republic to prove to all Haitians that the invulnerable Charlemagne was at last killed. It is this kind of fighting which the marines and gendarmes have to continually do in combatting the caco trouble. After the death of Charlemagne, Benôit Batraville, who was formerly a sullen police chief in the mountain town of Mirebalais, became the caco leader. He had joined the caco ranks only shortly before Charlemagne's death, and although not nearly so clever a brigand as the supreme caco was perhaps the most intelligent and the best leader when Charlemagne died. Up to the time of my departure in February, all attempts to capture Benôit had failed but I have since heard of his killing. It was during a skirmish with the marines in which the latter penetrated to the leader's rendezvous and although every other person in the camp escaped, the officer leading the marines had the good fortune to kill Benôit. And so another man of fair intelligence has been eliminated from the bandit forces. This has practically destroyed the caco power as an offensive force, for it is the few men whom the cacos have among them of brains which make them at all a dangerous factor. The bandits are with a few exceptions utterly ignorant and unable to lead an attack unless inspired and led by someone who has lived in the towns and developed some intelligence. To illustrate the almost unbelievable state of mentality possessed by the cacos, I will tell of the prisoners taken in one raid. After the raid the prisoners were taken back to the town to be temporarily held there awaiting trial. When the men reached the house, they were unable to walk up the stairs, as stairs were new to them. They had never seen a house of two stories before and did not know what to make of the second floor. I have mentioned a caco attempt to raid Port-au-Prince just before our arrival, in which some of the bandits reached town. By January, over a month after we arrived, the town had again assumed its normal state, and fear of another attack was practically eliminated from the minds of the natives. This was the condition when, on the morning of January 15th, the telephone rang at 4 a.m. and we heard that "3,000 cacos are marching into town by the Hasco Road." The cacos, advancing into town in column and with flags and conch-horns blowing, divided, a quarter of a mile from town, one column going along the water front and reaching town by way of the slaughter house, the other two columns turning farther inland and advancing around Belleair hill, by the radio station. When the troops had nearly reached town our marines opened fire with Brownings and machine guns, but the natives broke ranks and fired from around corners, and rushing into the houses, fired upon the marines from the windows. Gradually they were driven back, but _en route_ they had fired some of the native "_cailles_," in the poor section of the town and the light from this lit up the entire surrounding country. By daybreak many cacos were lying dead along the entrance to the city, the attack had been completely repulsed and the cacos driven far from town. Over 150 were captured or killed and but three of the marines wounded, only one fatally. A large number of caco had been pressed so hard on their flanks and front that they were forced to retreat into a closed valley back of Belleair and were there almost completely wiped out by a volley of machine guns. All during the day patrols searched the plains and outlying country. In this way they captured singly or in groups many of the brigands who were retreating to the hills. One automobile full of townsmen, arriving from Gonaïves, told of meeting the caco band, or at least part of it and only escaping by a miracle. The dents and holes made by the bullets while the car ran the gauntlet between the crowd, could be seen covering the body of the car when it came into town. In the afternoon a house-to-house search was made in the district where the fighting occurred and, asleep in his own house, the police found and recognized Solomen Janvier. Janvier is a man who formerly lived in Port-au-Prince in the house where he was found. But he had always been a revolutionist and for many months previous to the raid had been out in the hills with the cacos. Janvier boasted, after he had been taken to prison, that every attack which had been made upon Port-Au-Prince during recent years had been led by him; and that in the present raid there had been three leaders leading the different sections of the caco force, but that the other two were cowards and had fled before they reached town, he alone leading the actual attack. The number of cacos who reached the town is uncertain. First reports gave the number as 3,000, which was later reduced to 1,500, as claimed by the men at Hasco, the sugar plant of the American-Haitian Sugar Company, by which the cacos passed on their way into town. But, although there were many camp followers who never entered and engaged in the fighting, it is probable that the number of actual fighters was about 300. On the morning after the raid, our cook told me that she had heard in the market places that morning that there were 2,000,000 cacos who had entered the town and that 1,000,000 had been killed. This, I think, was the wildest rumor I heard. On the second day someone spread the rumor that 2,000 more cacos were coming into Port-au-Prince, and as it took some time to prove the report false, there was great excitement throughout the town. I went down beyond the Champ de Mars, and, rushing in every direction, were the natives, each returning to his respective home. As soon as they reached there, the windows and doors were boarded and within a very short time every house was closed and not a person was to be seen upon the streets. And so another day was lost to business, for all of the shops had been closed since the raid because of the great fear that the cacos were going to make a second attack. [Illustration: MARINE PATROL] [Illustration: HILLS NEAR MIREBALAIS] In October, when the raid was made before our arrival, the cacos escaped with a loss of only a few men, but in January so many of their number were killed or captured in town and out in the plains during their retreat that it will certainly make them wary of again invading the town for a long time to come. Benôit, himself, was in part of the fighting during the January raid, but unfortunately was among the bandits who escaped and was soon back with his followers in the Mirebalais hills, where he was eventually captured as I have related. III EVERY MAN'S LAND--A BIT OF HISTORY The Republic of Haiti consists of the western part of the island of Santo Domingo, while the eastern end constitutes the country of Santo Domingo. The latter, while it has three times the territory, claims but one-third the population of Haiti, which is to-day estimated at 2,500,000. Columbus' estimate of the combined population of what is now Haiti and Santo Domingo was as high as 2,000,000, but during the four intervening centuries the change in race has been complete. Scarcely a strain of aboriginal blood is left; and no ancestor of the present natives then even knew of the "new world." Ownership of Haiti has changed hands four times in this period, and revolution, crime and barbarism have left indelible marks on the pages of her history. The men left in Haiti by Columbus and those who followed the pioneers from Spain have scant justification for their brutal treatment of the Indians whom they met, and among the disgraces committed by white men in their dealings with the aborigines in America, the acts of the Spaniards in Haiti and Santo Domingo were among the most deplorable. Before long, the Spaniards, having wiped out the native Indians, were obliged to search for labor to till their soil and to search for gold. All of the metals possessed by the local redskins had been stolen by the first-comers. Turning naturally to African slaves to solve the problem of labor, the Spaniards imported the blacks in ever-increasing numbers. The Spaniards had not long been settled in this way before they were themselves forced to contest rule over the island, for French adventurers had come into the country and by 1697 the latter were so successful that most of that portion of land now known as Haiti was recognized by the Spanish to be under French control. The French continued the practice, commenced by the Spaniards, of introducing negro slaves and thousands were each year added to the number already settled. Rapidly Haiti became France's richest colony and the stories of the magnificent estates and the luxury in which wealthy planters and French noblemen lived are pitiful in contrast with what was so soon to follow. Pauline Bonaparte's estate near "Mon Repos" on the outskirts of Port-au-Prince lies in ruins and there remains little trace of luxury about the huge pool where once she held court and receptions at which much of the nobility of France was present. It is said that the wealthy Parisians used to send their clothes to be washed in the waters of the streams of Port-au-Prince regularly every six months because of the extraordinary bluing quality which was credited to the water. While Haiti was thus becoming a treasure island for the French, this wealth was at the expense of the black slaves, whom the French forced into overwork by extreme punishments. And thus, while the nobility in France were holding down their peasants to vaunt their vanity in the effete displays of the court of Louis XV, and thus foster the seeds of discontent which bore such frightful fruit in the days of the Guillotine, the French planters were doing the self-same thing to a worse extent in their treatment of the blacks in Haiti. Out of their cruel servitude was to come the succession of revolutions and the hatred of black and white which to this day has kept Haiti in the rearguard of civilization. The era of the French revolution gave an opening for the first negro rebellion, and led by the example of the white planters who rebelled against their own government, the mulattoes organized to some extent and a man named Oge attempted to obtain justice in both Paris and from the local authorities. Failing, he was sought as a rebel and after armed resistance by himself and his followers he was captured and executed. Critical conditions soon led the French Constituent Assembly to send three Commissioners from France to restore order and also issued a decree that "every man of color, born of free parents should enjoy equal political rights with the whites." However, the feeling in Haiti was so strong against this act that pressure was brought to bear upon Governor Blanchelande which prevented his executing the decree and pitched battles took place between the whites and the blacks. The French Government, largely through incapable Commissioners whom they had sent, was losing her grip on the control of Haitian affairs, and at the same time there arose two contending forces to control affairs there. In the north the negros had succeeded in becoming the stronger factor and a slave, named Toussaint L'Overture, though at first faithful to his master, soon saw the inevitable trend of affairs and joined the rebels. He very quickly proved his ability for leadership and was soon chosen their chief. In the meanwhile the English had, with a ridiculously small force, taken St. Marc and afterwards Port-au-Prince. After Toussaint had firmly established himself in the north, he marched southward to essay the attacking of the English. Time after time he attempted to force them to surrender, but each effort was repulsed. Soon, however, the English realized the impossibility of conquering Haiti, and decided to evacuate. They treated with Toussaint and left St. Marc and Port-au-Prince to him and his party of the north. At this point Toussaint showed his discerning insight into the entire black versus white situation at that time by allowing all foreigners who sided with him to remain undisturbed in the newly-acquired territory. But this action did not meet with favor from all, and, chiefly through the influence of Hedouville, many whites were murdered contrary to the order of Toussaint. Rigoud, in control of the south, now opposed Toussaint but was forced to make peace with him when the French sent a commission and supported Toussaint's claim to rule. Among the generals of Toussaint was Dessalines who commanded his troops in the north while Toussaint was himself in the vicinity of Port-au-Prince. Dessalines, like Hedouville, was radically opposed to the equality policy of Toussaint and while the latter was away he was intolerant of the mulattos and murdered thousands of them. [Illustration: CIVIL PRISONERS AT PORT-AU-PRINCE MAKING CHAIRS] Toussaint, in spite of these disagreements and violations of his orders, was nevertheless supreme in Haiti. He now aspired to the throne of Santo Domingo as well. Therefore, all preparations completed, he set out upon his new march of conquest and, not meeting a single reverse, Toussaint, upon his return, claimed possession of the entire island. But here Toussaint made his fatal step. Instead of declaring the independence of Haiti he ruled it as a French colony with himself as the self-appointed governor and with his creed based upon equality for white, black and mulatto. The result of this policy was that when France was again at peace, Bonaparte was able to make an attempt to again bring Haiti back to the condition of slavery. By false trickery the French General Leclerc captured Toussaint and exiled him to the Alps, where he soon died. Toussaint, the conqueror, thus lost his chance of becoming Toussaint, the founder of the republic. War was now declared between France and England and opportunity again arose for the French to be driven from Haiti. Dessalines with many of Toussaint's former generals accomplished this task and declared the country independent. Dessalines was made Governor-General and declared the "Founder of Haitian Independence." He is known everywhere under this title to-day, and is far more revered than Toussaint as the great national hero. Inspired by the crowning of Bonaparte in 1804, Dessalines declared himself the first emperor of Haiti and from that time on until his death he continued to rule a one-man power of terrorism and brutality. Upon the death of Dessalines, rival claims were made by the various sectional chiefs for the crown of the new Haitian Empire. Out of these leaders Christophe arose in the north as the strongest contender and after proclaiming himself King Henry I of Haiti, he succeeded in practically eliminating all other leaders except Petion who was very powerful in the south. But these two rivals were forced to unite their forces and strength in common cause against the French who made a new but unfruitful effort to regain possession of the island. Petion and Christophe were opposite types. Petion was rather easy-going and it was this which held his followers to him rather than any show of force. But Christophe, second only to Dessalines as a national hero, was even more despotic than that emperor in the treatment of his own people. It was Christophe who built the great citadel at Cap Haitien and who, taking his architect up to show him the view from the cliff, pitched him into eternity lest he might disclose his knowledge of the secret passages which he had designed. In building the Citadel, the ascent was so steep as to make almost beyond the limits of human endurance the carrying up of heavy building materials. It is said that the 5000 men assigned to do this work refused, and, upon hearing of this, Christophe had the men lined up and every other man killed. He then commanded the remaining 2500 to complete the task or they should receive the same fate as the others. But this iron rule of Christophe proved to be a boomerang for him and a man named Boyer, who was by this time the leader in the south, marched northward and declared Haiti a republic and himself its first president. The north was tired of Christophe and willingly joined in with the cause of Boyer. Under Boyer, Santo Domingo declared herself independent and in allegiance to President Boyer of Haiti, who thus became chief of the entire island. The next event was the demand by France for indemnity and Boyer acceded to this demand on condition that France sign a treaty acknowledging the independence of Haiti. This was agreed to and two treaties were signed, but the indemnity always remained practically unpaid, for revolution after revolution made a collection of the indemnity through a blockade impossible. After the death of Boyer, strong rule was lacking for a long time and the government was ever-changing, being overthrown by each succeeding revolution. This was largely due to the fact that there was no ruler who was acceptable to both the blacks and the mulattoes, who were now the two constantly opposed factors. It is said that the Haitian flag of red and blue was formed from the French by eliminating the white even as the white race had been eliminated from the island, and leaving only the blue for the blacks and the red for the mullatoes. Nevertheless it is certain that these two remaining colors could not live in harmony together. No rule was long stable and frequent and serious uprisings which resulted in interference with the foreigners in Haiti caused the diplomatic corps many a critical problem. Law and order were unknown and few were the presidents of that period who died a natural death. Finally, in 1915, the climax came. President Sam was driven from his palace by the mob, and chased by them through the streets. Finally they followed him when he sought refuge in the French territory of the legation and he was there massacred and cut to shreds before the eyes of the wife and children of the French minister. Intervention by the French was naturally imminent, but in order to preserve the integrity of the Monroe Doctrine, America took the lead and forced the existing government of Haiti to accept a treaty which temporarily allows America a sufficiently free hand in Haiti to maintain law and order and to help the Haitians build up a civilized and stable government. And so it is that we are to-day visiting Haiti and that it is now possible to travel in a country which was previously in the throes of continual unrest. Whereas before the Occupation, practically no administration was able to complete its term of office, foreign business was unable to hazard investments and personal safety was uncertain; protection is now afforded to the foreigner who comes to Haiti, and equality of treatment in public for all colors is the rule. IV VAUDOUX Haiti is one of the few countries where State and Church still remain united, and to-day the Catholic clergy are under government pay. Roman Catholicism first became the Haitian religion when, in 1836, the Pope was declared its head and given the authority to appoint its bishops. The priests are almost uniformly upright men who are working along beneficial lines among the natives and are one of the leading forces for good in the country. The masses in Haiti, however, do not believe in straight Catholicism but in Vaudouxism. This creed is of African origin and was introduced into Haiti when the black slaves were brought over by the Spanish and French. To these original beliefs they have slowly accumulated a few Indian superstitions and very many of the ceremonies and attributes of Christianity, so that Vaudouxism as it exists in Haiti to-day is a unique religion. [Illustration: WOMEN CARRYING IN TO MARKET BASKETS WHICH THEY HAVE MADE. LIKE EVERYTHING ELSE THEY ARE CARRIED ON THEIR HEADS] [Illustration: THE CATHEDRAL] Vaudoux is the deity of the Vaudouxists and is represented as a venomless serpent. The human leader of the creed is a high priest selected by the followers of Vaudoux from among themselves and is known as Papaloi, and he in turn selects a high priestess who is called Mamanloi (corruptions of the words Papa Roi and Maman Roi). In these two personages is supposed to be the divine spark. But, mixed with this pure Vaudouxism, there is much Christian ceremony, such as the inclusion of the worship of the Virgin Mary and the observance of Easter Day. Like all primitive religious cults, the Vaudouxists include in their rites sacrifices and self-inflicted punishments. Animals of various kinds are sacrificed at each meeting of Vaudouxists and the highest offering is the snow-white sacred goat. To the rhythm of Vaudoux drums or tom-toms, the worshippers dance themselves into excited passions for hour after hour, until the chief dancers, who alone remain, finally fall from utter exhaustion. During this dance the men eat pieces of glass and, dancing upon red-hot coals, they place burning pieces of charcoal in their mouth. And we read of the asceticism of the Middle Ages and think of it as a bygone phrase! Often at the Vaudoux meetings the participants become maddened by the liquor and revel, and debauchery finally prevails in its lowest forms, until the meeting breaks up at dawn. But the endurance of the chief dancers who continue for five, six and seven hours without ceasing for a moment, is truly marvelous. So great is the fear of Vaudoux inbred in the Haitian that even with those who are civilized and cultured, many remain in awe of Vaudoux or are restrained from exerting their influence against it through fear of poisoning, for the Haitians are arch-poisoners. And thus, though many Haitians of the upper classes are nominally good Catholics, they are still to a more or less extent subservient to Vaudoux superstitions and avoid openly opposing the demonstrations of it by their countrymen. Many of the presidents of Haiti were themselves Vaudoux priests and but two among them took any active measures toward repressing it. These two were Geffrard and Boisson-Canal and the act meant their downfall, for Vaudouxism is habitually aided or winked at by the Government. Toussaint L'Overture was an out-and-out Catholic and took definite measures against Vaudouxism, but in his day the beliefs were not so strong and it was much easier to repress its practice. It is now impossible for the Vaudouxists to openly hold their meetings near the towns and they are forced to find some rendezvous among the hills. But in the towns the natives still hold their dances, where they dance the weird "bambeula" to the beat of the tom-tom very much as they do at the real Vaudoux meetings. The tom-toms are made out of a hollow log and two skins which are made taut over each end of the log. The tom-tom beater is skilled and as particular about his instrument and how it is tuned up (by tightening or loosening the bindings of the skins) as any violinist. The tom-tom beater knows many different native tunes. And so Vaudouxism still prevails the driving religious force of most Haitians. The most uncivilized are out-and-out worshippers and regularly attend the Vaudoux rendezvous, but the higher classes are ashamed to confess their subservience to Vaudouxism to foreigners and consequently many pose as Catholics although sometimes they are themselves Papalois. And then there are those Haitians who are truly Catholics, and these are in most cases those who have been educated abroad. They are usually of the younger generation. But as I have shown they dislike intensely to come out openly against the practice of Vaudouxism by other Haitians. The elimination of Vaudouxism, in fact, rests almost entirely upon the shoulders of the Americans. And this elimination is imperative for Vaudouxism is, not so much a religious evil, but an unmoral and uncivilizing factor. It is Vaudouxism, too, which makes more difficult the fighting of the cacos; for Vaudoux priests have, through their hold upon the religious fear of the Vaudouxists, tremendous power over all their doings. Upon the sounding of a Vaudoux drum the priest can very often do about what he wants with his followers. Probably all of the caco chiefs are Vaudoux priests and thus hold together bands which, freed from religious scruples, would abandon their purpose of brigandry. For example, in the January raid, many of the cacos who had been wounded, admitted that they had gone into the attack only because of their belief that the Vaudoux charms which they wore made them invulnerable. One Sunday while I was waiting at the Gendarme headquarters at Leogane there was being held there the weekly meeting of the "Communale" and the Gendarme officer told me that the chief of this force was one of the natives who had always joined in every revolution which had reached that part of the country and the third chief was formerly an ally of the great caco leader, Charlemagne. A strange band, certainly, to be the guardians of law and order. But it was, after all, reasonable. These men were the most intelligent in their neighborhood and then of course it was infinitely better to have such men in a place where their salaries would keep them law-abiding than to have them outside the law and inciting trouble against a less capable government force. It is very difficult to establish any sort of efficient and just civil force because of the ignorance of the vast majority of the Haitian population. The number of intelligent, or partly intelligent men in a country district is small, and it is the intelligent men in these sections who are usually in league with the cacos, either openly or secretly. And with the magistrates there is another obstacle which prevents the execution of justice. Ever since the beginnings of Haitian history, graft has been so natural and accepted a thing with government officials that it is inborn in the present generation and time alone will ever wipe it out. At present with a large number of the magistrates impartial judgment is unknown and the local law verdict goes to the highest bidder. First one side buys up the judge and then the other until finally one party is forced to give in through lack of resources. The chief drawback in attempting to eliminate such graft is the ridiculously low pay given to a magistrar. It is but natural for a judge to seek outside gains in order that he may earn a living. When a Haitian dies, and some of the more prosperous of them have accumulated fortunes of over a hundred thousand dollars, the heirs or even outsiders who are on the spot loot his wealth and leave nothing for any absent members of the family. The latter are unable to obtain justice later because the first-comers have carefully bought up the local officials with a portion of their new gains. This unfair state of local government can be remedied only slowly and by the gradual elimination of the idea of graft as an expected right of a government official. But as I have pointed out the raising of the magistrate's salary is a prerequisite. The low salary now paid is of course due to the lack of funds which hinders the development of the country at every turn. [Illustration: A SOURCE OF THE GREATEST GOOD--THE ROMAN CATHOLIC SISTERS AT ONE OF THE MANY CONVENTS ON THE ISLAND] [Illustration: THE HEAD NURSE AT THE PUBLIC HOSPITAL WITH HER CORPS OF HAITIAN NURSES] Under the provisions of the American treaty with Haiti, the entire financial situation was placed, during the duration of the treaty, in the hands of a financial advisor, who, having been nominated by the President of the United States, is appointed by the President of Haiti. Addison P. Ruan was the first appointee and served in Haiti for two years until he was transferred to take the same post in Panama. Following Mr. Ruan, John A. McIlhenny came to Haiti and, realizing like his predecessor the urgent need for money with which to develop the country, he has been steadily at work to put through a Haitian loan in the United States. This is of course at present impossible due to the abnormal financial situation in this country. The financial advisor in Haiti has the authority to make all appropriations of the state money and his word is final as to their expenditure. In this respect Haiti is being run, during the treaty period, in very much the same way as India is governed by England, except that no treasurer is needed in Haiti, as the Haitian National Bank serves that purpose. V PUBLIC EDUCATION AND NORMIL CHARLES M. Dantes Bellegarde, Minister of Public Instruction, had told us that he would be glad to show us through the schools of Port-au-Prince. We therefore arranged a date and set out one morning to make the tour. With us went also the American Advisor to the department, Mr. Bourgeois. At the time the treaty was made between Haiti and the United States, no provision was arranged for the Department of Education, as was done with the Sanitary and Engineering Departments. Thus the development made possible through the more direct assistance from Washington has been unattainable in the school work, and although the work we saw being carried on was a remarkably inspiring demonstration of accomplishments, yet the small proportion which is being done of what could be done if greater means were available is quite discouraging. It is the same cry as one raises on every hand: If only they had the means! Two years ago, three years after the treaty was signed, Mr. Bourgeois came to Haiti, but only in the capacity of an Advisor responsible to the Haitian Government alone and not as a league official. His force is largely restricted to negative powers. It is indeed fortunate that a mind of remarkable keenness and a power for practical work exists in the person of the present Minister, M. Bellegarde. But should a man of lesser force take his place, as has happened within recent years, the result would be deplorable. Also, M. Bellegarde could carry his work much further if he had the proper financial and other material aid of the United States Educational Department. Although compulsory educations is legally a fact, there is, in reality, a force of teachers and equipment for but 18,000 of the 200,000 children of the proper age. Many of these children are in the country districts where good teachers, who even in the city are at a premium, are almost an unknown factor. This feature is being remedied as far as practicable, all the time, and the teachers in the rural schools are being carefully examined. Some of these have been found to be utterly unable to correct their pupils' simple exercises and these teachers are being dropped. But, though it is thus very simple to drop an incompetent teacher, it is a manifold more difficult task to replace him. The pay for teachers is $6 per month and so, even low as wages are in Haiti, the position of teacher is not so lucrative as to have very many applicants. The salaries cannot be raised. It is the old story of lack of money. Nearly half of the annual appropriation for public instruction is being swallowed up by the present salaries of the present number of teachers. The remainder is naturally barely sufficient to maintain the existing schools. No new advances are possible. Fortunately, besides the public schools of Haiti, there are numerous privately run ones, nearly always under religious or parti-religious supervision. The Catholics are the most frequent benefactors and are doing by far the greater part of the work. Originally, before the present public school system was created, these schools, missions, or convents were in part supported by the state; but gradually this assistance is being necessarily taken away. Our first visit was to a school run by Belgian Sisters. It was a school for girls only and was still supported in part by the Government. For the younger children the work consists mostly of such studies as would be taught in a primary school in the States, great stress being laid upon the speaking of good French. This is particularly important because the natural tongue of the lower classes of natives is Creole, which in Haiti consists of an ungrammatical and corrupted language drawn principally from the French, but also with traces of English, Spanish and early Indian words. Some Creole words seem to defy a tracing of their origin. Although the natives may understand you if you speak French to them, it is impossible for you to make out what they say, though you may know French perfectly. "Vini non" is a Creole expression used continually to mean "come here!" Its derivation is certainly obscure. Nor is Creole the same all over the republic. Each section has its own dialect which is distinct. After the children learn the first elements of grammar school work, they begin to work a part of the day at embroidery, sewing and knitting. Thus the vocational work is gradually increased and before the girls graduate they are given training which fits them to be efficient servants. Vocational schools of this type are just what Haiti needs most of all. They serve the double purpose of training the natives to obtain a good living and they also furnish a means by which the better-off may secure good servants and workers. Downstairs in the school building are the school and work rooms--upstairs the dormitory. The dormitory consists of one large room covering the entire top of the house and filled with cots for every boarder. For every two cots there is also provided a washstand which contains places where they may keep their personal articles. The entire effect was of an establishment thoroughly modern and scrupulously clean. Besides these girls who come from the country districts and board, the school has also a great many day pupils who live at their homes in town. [Illustration: MAGISTRAR'S STAND--OF WHICH THERE IS ONE IN EVERY TOWN] [Illustration: THE NEW PRESIDENT'S PALACE] The next school we went to was a non-vocational one under the direction of an order of French Brothers. It was solely for boys, just as the first was only a girls' school, for the morals of the country do not permit the adoption of co-education, even though the pupils are of the earliest ages. The priests who conduct this institution are certainly as fine a type of self-sacrificing men who are aiding a truly worthy cause as I can imagine. They see the tremendous possibilities and without limiting their efforts to what they could accomplish with a normal amount of work they undertake almost superhuman attempts. Of the Brothers who come to Haiti, their average length of life after arriving is but 12 years, so killing is their work. The normal amount of work for a professor in the United States is about 18 hours a week, but the Brothers in Haiti teach for 8 hours every single day. And every effort which they put into it is unwasted and has a telling effect in the result. There are 11 grades of scholars taught by the Brothers, from the earliest kindergarten to the graduation class who would correspond to high school students. The boys are given work in geography, history, spelling, French, mathematics and other things which would be taught in any American school. I looked over the copy books of the younger boys and the neatness and excellent penmanship of even children of six was amazing. All of the children seemed to be naturally gifted at freehand drawing. One little boy of eight, when asked what his favorite subject was, replied: "My national emblem." He drew therewith a fine representation of a palm tree. Although the order of Brothers is French, not all of them are Frenchmen. Several are Americans, a few Canadians and Portuguese, and one, a Haitian Brother. Our third and last visit was to the Ecôle Normale d'lndustrie. The graduating pupils here act as teachers of the younger ones. This school is one of the public schools and as we went through it, M. Bellegarde proudly pointed to a particularly fine-looking little boy. "That is my son." We went through many classrooms full of scholars of different ages studying in very much the same way as children study in America. It seemed a cause for hope to look at this public school through which the Haitian children were being made to see the advantages of education and the opportunity to rise. When every Haitian child will be able to have such instruction and training then his generation will be able to throw off the yoke of past superstitions and dispel the ignorance which has been holding back the masses. Following this tour of the few schools which time allowed us to visit, M. Bellegarde took us to the studio of Normil Charles. M. Charles is a Haitian sculptor who has remarkable genius and is one of the leading sculptors of the world. He studied in Paris for a number of years, and has received many decorations and honors. As we entered his studio, in front of us we saw a huge bronze which he is doing for the Government and which is to be placed in the Champ de Mars. It is called "The Benefactor" and is the statue of a great public-spirited man. At his feet kneels a peasant woman, with babe in arms, mourning his death. The piece would certainly be a work of the first class anywhere and the country may well be proud that one of its citizens is its author. In the studio, too, was the bust of Dessalines, done by Charles, and which I had seen six months before in the Pan-American Building in Washington, where it remained for some time. M. Charles, himself, is a delightful man, well-mannered and interesting. But he is indeed a strange product of a country which for so many years has been kept down by revolution with the resulting isolation and lack of opportunity to devote time to the pursuits of peace. VI THE PRESIDENT From the studio of M. Charles, M. Bellegarde took us to see the new palace. It is a huge structure, quite like a palace in appearance, and made of white stucco. It is more than twice the size of our White House and is shaped like the letter E, with the three wings running back from the front. In the main hall huge columns rise to the ceiling and at each side a staircase winds up to the second floor. While we were starting to go through the palace the guard had apprised President Dartiguenave of our presence and we were surprised and delighted to have him send word that he would be glad to receive us. Although the left wing of the building is to be the President's private suite, it is as yet uncompleted and he is at present occupying the opposite end. We entered the President's office, where he rose from his desk to meet us, and to usher us through to the Cabinet room. This room is large, like all the rooms--perhaps 40 feet square--and with a long table in the center surrounded by chairs. Here the President meets his Cabinet. The President is a man of medium height and has the bearing of an aristocrat. His hair and beard are gray which contribute to his good appearance. He is rather light in color and, indeed, is the first president for a long time who has not been a black. The President does not speak English but understands and speaks French perfectly. Altogether he is a delightful, cultured man and a suitable head for the Republic. From the balcony of the palace there is an excellent view, overlooking the entire town and the harbor beyond. The next room to visit was the "Salle Diplomatique" where all official receptions are held. This had just been decorated but was as yet unfinished. The President personally escorted us to it and afterwards to his future private suite. He then showed us downstairs and out to the car, where we left both the President and M. Bellegarde. [Illustration: "WHITE WINGS" OF PORT-AU-PRINCE] [Illustration: MARKET WOMEN LEAVING TOWN ON THEIR "BURROS"] VII A MORNING HUNT As I left the house one morning at two, the yard boys next door were already at work and in town the "white wings"--an American institution--were about. Three of us joggled along for 22 miles for an early duck shoot and talked of many things, among them concerning a proposed map of Haiti. The existing one is grossly inaccurate as is easily shown by an airplane flight or a ship attempting to follow many of the channels. There is no triangulation point in Haiti and so the present coast line on the maps is the result of a certain number of bearings from off shore, with the remainder a matter of freehand filling-in. The use of airplanes in heretofore untried ways will be employed to aid in the exact location of towns and be a means of a great saving of tedious traverse work. In town, life was already stirring, as I have shown. This is nothing unusual for it is the customary hour for the Haitian to begin his day. By 6 the "gentlemen about town" are in the streets with their canes and Stetsons, debating the fall of the cabinet or the latest development in the gourde situation. But out in the country everything was still dark and the market women had barely started to bring their load into town. So we met no one--except twice the marine patrol car on its route. Just outside the portals marking the limits of Port-au-Prince on which are inscribed the words: "Peace, Justice, Work," is the historic Pont Rouge. This is the spot where revolutionary troops coming down from the mountains and across the plains would first meet the forces of the existing government of Port-au-Prince. Here the great Dessalines, coming into town at the head of his troops, met what he believed to be a guard of his own troops. His own general was leading them, but had betrayed Dessalines, and the President was soon left wounded in the roadway to die. It had been Dessalines who, it is said, sported himself by pulling out the eyes of his prisoners with corkscrews. The streets in Port-au-Prince are wide asphalt pavements and would be adapted for speeding but for the presence in the center and sides promiscuously of unruly "burros," naked babies playing in the dirt, odd Haitian pigs looking like some new species of animal, and pedestrians of strange sorts. This is true, also, for some distance out on the Hasco road, over which we went. But after a few miles we came out upon one of the new roads which has been put down throughout the island by the Haitian Government under the supervision of the Gendarmerie and of an engineering force loaned to them by the United States. In all, about 500 miles of excellent roadways have been put down since the American intervention. In this work the budget system is now used and as every payment is actually handed out by one of the American engineers himself, the graft which was formerly rampant has been eliminated. In the days of pre-American intervention a sum of, let us assume, $50,000 was voted to build a road. $5,000 of this regularly went to the President and $500 to each Senator who would vote for the appropriation. This left, generally, about $10,000, or one-fifth, for actual road building work. The Haitians have proven to be good engineers and except for the pay roll, large pieces of work are often carried on by them without assistance from the Americans. The first part of the road which we struck was excellent but after branching off the main road to Pont Beudet we came to the new part. Roads of this type, which is the one generally used, are macadam with good foundation of different sized stones and 20 feet in width. The top dressing is a good binding gravel which can be found within short distances along almost all of the roads which they are now building. A temporary track is run from each gravel pit along the side of the road until a mile or so on another pit is dug and the rails taken up and laid down from the new pit on. The gravel is thus carried to where it is needed by a small engine and a few cars. There is in this way no long-distance hauling. Finally we turned off the new road to a clearing through a cactus desert at the edge of Lake Troucaiman. Above either shore two mountain ranges run parallel for miles, far above the lake. The lake itself is open water in the central portion but by far the greater part is filled with a mass of lily, mangrove and reed growth. Often it is so dense as to be entirely impenetrable. When we arrived at Troucaiman it was not yet daylight and only the candles in the few "cailles" along the road could be seen. Upon the approach of the car, five or six natives appeared, knowing from past experience what we had come for, and with our French and their Creole, interspersed by numerous gestures, we made our plans. Each of us started out, alone in his own tiny dugout of about a foot wide and four feet long and with his own native in the back to pole him about. The guides had taken off the few rags which they wore and one by one we were shoved off. Part of the time we were poled, part of the time the craft stuck and the native had to wade along beside to keep us going. We went on and on in the blackness until finally one could distinguish black shapes arising from the water or whirring past. It came at last--the gray dawn for which we had been waiting. A teal went overhead with its characteristic rapid flight. A slower-flying redhead and later a scaup passed. And all around were hundreds upon hundreds of Egrets, great white forms which flappingly arose when we approached too near. To the natives there are four kinds of ducks: "gens-gens," which is a species of tree duck; "cécele" or blue-winged teal; "cucurem" or ruddy duck; and any other duck is known as "canard generale." All of the first three species are abundant, as are also the scaup, baldpate, redhead and Bahaman pintail. We met at nine on the shore, which by daylight looked very different than when we had left it, and after some refreshments and comparing of our respective bags, we started home. There are no game laws in Haiti, so that your bag is only limited by your lack of skill. Half way in to Port-au-Prince is the spot where two months before three Haitian engineers had been murdered in the "caille" where they were spending the night. The men were working on the road I have spoken of, but as the caco trouble had been active in that district just before the men were murdered, these men had been duly forewarned not to spend the night. Frequently I used to go out on these shooting trips, but not always to Troucaiman. Two other spots were alternated, Miragôane in the west and the salt lakes beyond Troucaiman. These salt lakes are two decidedly brackish bodies of water which lie on the border of Haiti and Santo Domingo. They are at the end of the Plain of the Cul-de-Sac, and a few miles beyond the town of Thomaseau. The water is as clear as a crystal and the scenery amid these wonderful lakes and the mountains above them is splendid. In the opposite direction, and 70 miles west of Port-au-Prince, is Lake Miragôane. It is just beyond Petit Gôave. The lake is large, being about eight miles long. In a part of the lake we had particularly good teal shooting and by moonlight thousands of "gens-gens" would come in to feed in the shallows overnight. Long before dawn they had vanished again. [Illustration: TYPICAL "CAILLE" NEAR FURCY _A few banana and coffee trees (on the left) are all that each one has_] [Illustration: RAILWAY TO LEOGANE] It is a difficult lake to shoot upon, however. The mud flats from the shore are long and reach far out into the lake so that it is practically impossible to use a dugout for some distance. Thus it was necessary to walk out in shallow water and deep mud. The water, very unlike the salt lake water, was thick, filthy and always gave one an itching sensation for hours after having been in it. Beside the duck shooting at Miragôane, there is excellent snipe shooting during certain seasons and good guinea shooting also. It is a strange thing to have guineas in Haiti. The guinea is a native of Africa which only reached the new world in a domesticated state. The present birds are descendants of the domesticated ones left by the French planters during the revolution and which have reverted to the wild state in the intervening generations. Doves, as everywhere in Haiti are also abundant, and form a good shoot and a good meal. VIII PINE NEEDLES The mountains had changed from green to violet and from violet to black and the new moon silhouetted the peaks from 10,000 foot summits to the sea. From Furcy, the next range to the east seemed within hands' reach across the valleys and hills as its mountains rose ten miles or ten hours by trail away. Our sweaters and blankets felt barely enough as the wind howled around us. With closed eyes we knew from its tell-tale sound that pine trees surrounded us and that the winds were blowing stronger and stronger through their needles. We climbed the hill with difficulty over the slippery matting of pine needles to pick bananas along the road. And we were in the tropics, with pine cones, palm and bananas growing side by side. Thanking Providence that I am alive while such country still exists, untouched by man's civilization, I gazed for dozens of miles over several mountain ranges with their valleys and hills overlapping to the sea on two sides of the island. These bits of water looked far away indeed. With only a rough, mountain-stream bed winding for miles to the nearest town, we were apart by so much from white man--but in point of effect upon the country as far as before Columbus saw the first redskin when he landed on the north shore of the island. Tucked away in the valleys we could see the lights of many native "cailles" and we knew that there were many more unseen. With plaster and sticks for walls they are roofed by thatching of straw overhanging the walls and sloping up to a peak. In every part of Haiti they are there, each the same with its 2 or 3 coffee trees, its few bananas and that is about all. Along the road are the market women. Every so often, perhaps once a week, they take their bananas or coffee to town, a walk for some of 18 hours' steady going, to sell it at the Port-au-Prince market for about 50 cents gold. And the natives are satisfied--in fact they do not want things to be any different. They have enough to live on and have no desires which more energy would gratify. For amusement they have their cock fights, when all the neighborhood gathers and each man brings his trained rooster. And in the evenings they have their native dances with tom-tom music and native rum, _taffia_, _clairin_ and _rum_, the first entirely unrefined, the second somewhat refined, and the third refined, though very often not of an excellent grade. But some Haitian rum can be easily obtained which is excellent and of just about as good quality as Jamaica rum. And then, of course, besides the bananas and coffee which they sell, the natives in the hills burn charcoal and carry this, whenever they need money, to town for 60 cts. a donkey load. We had left Port-au-Prince in the morning by car to Petionville, 1200 feet above the sea, and from there had changed to horseback. With our pack-mules and gendarme guides we left Petionville at noon and started the winding trail up the first mountain range. The going was slow as the trail is mostly steep and in places merely a stream-bed filled with loose rocks. Within the first hour we were far up and could look upon Petionville just below us and beyond it the broad plain of the Cul-de-Sac with its many squares of bright green sugar cane cut in the brown-gray cactus land. As a background for this flat valley rose the mountains of Mirebalais continuing beyond the ends of the plain to the sea and to the salt lakes. Just this side of the salt lakes was a mass of water and reeds, looking very insignificant, which was the familiar Troucaiman. It was like an aërial photograph of this entire section of the country but with perspective and magnificently varied coloration. And so we went on over the second range to get our first glimpse of Kenskoff--a tiny mountain village half-way up the third mountain slope. We climbed up the winding trails which sometimes consisted of cuts through the mountains, but generally paths cut in the mountainside, with the crest high above us and the base far below. At Kenskoff is a tiny white chapel with the Pope's flag of white and yellow marking it from a long distance. This outpost of Christianity is visited perhaps once a month by the priest of the neighborhood on his rounds. After watering our horses and having a few eggs and sandwiches, we left Kenskoff and the mountains became more barren. A red-tailed hawk soared in the valley below us and from the roadside we flushed flocks of mourning dove at every curve. And then we reached Furcy, and around the side of the mountain we suddenly came upon the entire panorama of each succeeding range rolling up from the distant ones, which were in Santo Domingo, to drop from 10,000 feet to the valley below us and rise again to our pathway of about one mile high. It was a clear night with a new moon, so only a few tiny clouds floated below us in the valleys and above only the black and gold of a starlit night. [Illustration: ON THE ST. MARC ROAD AFTER THE HEAVY RAINS] IX COTTON The week before Christmas we started off on a motor trip as the guests of Mr. and Mrs. H. P. Davis. Mr. Davis is the Vice-President of the United West Indies Corporation, an American concern which is engaged in developing the resources of Haiti. Although operating throughout the Republic, the largest plantation of the company is near St. Michel in the north-central portion, where for miles the country is a vast fertile plain and thus peculiarly valuable as agricultural land. The soil is virgin--untouched and unused except in the early Spanish days, centuries ago, for cattle grazing. That part of Haiti near and to the westward of St. Michel was never in the possession of the French as was the rest of the Republic, but was held by the Spanish until driven back to the present Dominican border by the Haitians themselves. The first day's ride of about seven hours brought us to St. Michel. The route from Port-au-Prince for two-thirds of the way is along the bay to Gonaïves. From there the road goes directly inland. The country through which one passes during these hours contains many changes, for from the fertile plains outside of Port-au-Prince, where castor bean and sugar cane are growing, there is suddenly a cessation of verdant growth beyond St. Marc, and for miles a near-desert stretches out. The road is merely a clearing of the cactus growth which closes in on either side and consists of queer-looking species of cacti. The soil is sandy, the air humid, and the thorny mass on every side impenetrable. Every now and then we would pass partly wild mules kicking down the trunk of a cactus to drink the water it contained; and as we passed, some of the natives would rush madly into the bushes from fright. It is not so long since they saw their first motor and they are still filled with fear when one appears. From the plains of Dessalines, a few miles south of Gonaïves, there is an excellent view of the three old Haitian forts in the mountains back of the plain. Here the Haitiens retreated to wait until the forces should come across the plains to attack them. It is easy to see how difficult it was for any force to attempt to attack the Haitians when once intrenched in their forts, situated on cliffs and with hidden trails leading to them. Stopping for a moment in the plains, we saw a woman coming up to the car. We found out that she wished to sell her baby if she could get a few gourdes (20-cent pieces of our money but corresponding in Haiti to a dollar) for it. Again at Gonaïves a small boy begged us to take him home and keep him, in exchange for which he would do any work we might wish. This sort of temporary slavery which many children enter into or are sold into by their parents lasts generally until they are of age, during which time they do any work which you may assign them to. It is a common custom. From Gonaïves the road to St. Michel passes through Ennery and it was on the outskirts of this town that we stopped for luncheon. The spot was a clearing in a forest with huge ancient trees and little coffee bushes surrounding. In the clearing were the stone pillars, some still erect, some fallen, of what was once the palace of Toussaint L'Overture. Beyond Ennery there is a stiff climb for a number of miles until finally one comes out on the plateau which constitutes the plains of St. Michel. Passing through the town, which is at the southern end of the plain of Atalaye, we went a short distance before arriving at the headquarters of the plantation. Here we spent the night. The main building is a very attractive structure, all the rooms of which except the kitchen and office being on the second floor. All around is a second-story veranda supported by wooden posts from below. We sat late watching the headlights of the tractors moving about ceaselessly over the plains. The next day was spent in looking over the plantation and seeing the new long staple cotton which they are growing in large quantities. Also, in the afternoon we had a long ride across the plains and afterward a guinea and dove shoot. At 6 on the morning of the second day we started out in our car for Cap Haitien. After passing Ennery the road begins to climb up and up, gaining the steep ascent only by curving and recurving along the side of each mountain slope. The range was the Puilboreaux Mountains which climatically divide the island into the north and south. In Port-au-Prince and all of southern Haiti we were in the middle of the dry season, as I have said. But after we were over the summit of Puilboreaux all was changed. The foliage, which on the southern slope was dry, was now verdant and profuse, the road muddy instead of dusty and everywhere flowers of all kinds flourished. Each woods had the orchids out in bloom. Once over the top of Puilboreau, the view is wonderful. Mountains miles away look very near and just below it seems, though it is really far, lies the valley of Plaisance with the little white buildings of the town tucked away in the center. Before reaching the Cap, as Cap Haitian is called throughout Haiti, it is necessary to ford the Limbé River. Normally this is very simple and a motor will cross over without any trouble. Sometimes, however, in the floods of the rainy season it becomes impassable and crossing is impossible for days at a time. When we arrived it was doubtful, but we were informed that with the aid of the prisoners in the gendarme prison there, it would be possible. We started, pulled by a rope, pushed by forty black figures with rags to indicate the prison cloth, out into midstream under the direction of a gendarme. But half way out we stuck, the car filled with water to the seats and only after everyone was up to his neck in water beside the car helping to push it, did we finally arrive on the other side. Cap Haitien is to-day not a very important town, compared to Port-au-Prince, but it was the capital in the French days, and the center of a large amount of commerce. It shows, unlike other towns, decided traces of the Spanish architecture. The harbor is beautiful and along the side there runs a drive to the eastward. The great sight of the north I did not see. It is the Citadel and Sans Souci, the palace of Christophe. In the mountains far above the Cap the Citadel lay surrounded by mist except for a few minutes early the next morning, when the clouds were swept away and we got one glimpse of the Citadel. But we were unable to take the trail which winds up to the palace and the Citadel because of the heavy rains which at that time flooded the region. [Illustration: HAITIAN WOMEN WASHING THEIR CLOTHES IN A DITCH] [Illustration: THE AMERICAN CLUB] X GOURDES The blood of the present-day Haitian is largely a mixture of French and black. The Indian aborigines were totally eliminated from Haiti by the Spaniard, so that unlike the most of Latin America, the Indians or their descendants form no part of the population. The Spaniard, in turn, was driven from Haiti by the French before he had left much of an imprint and his blood forms a negligible factor to-day. The English, although in Haiti, were there so short a time as to leave no strain of British blood. And so the French blood is predominant. Also, all the closest connections of Haiti are still with France, or were up to the time of the American Occupation. Creole is based more fundamentally upon French than any other language and the conversation of the higher classes is pure French. Many Haitians go each year to Paris to study or to visit, and many of the most prominent are educated there. When the Americans took the leading rôle in Haiti there naturally arose with greater force the race question. The feeling between black and white is so much stronger between most Americans and the black races than it is in the case of Europeans, that it becomes a serious problem. It is foolishly intolerant of the American who goes to Haiti to assume an attitude of mental or social superiority over the Haitian because he is a black. It would be equally absurd for the Haitian to attempt to break through the walls of prejudice and to expect all Americans and Haitians to mix with ease. Although it is most certainly true that America has an infinitely more thorough knowledge and is more capable of government than is Haiti, yet the Haitians have what many Americans of even the upper classes often lack, a knowledge of culture and excellent manners. There is only one sane social attitude to take in the dealings of Haitian and American. The American must remember, as he should when he travels anywhere, that he is dealing with foreigners. He must value them according to their own standards and live his own life according to the standards of America. Let the American in Haiti, if he does not care to mix with the Haitians, not do so, but when he meets them treat them as their education and culture entitles them to be treated. The Haitians understand well the attitude of the Americans. They saw the failure of the attempts in the early days to mix freely. They now are anxious to meet the American men but wait for the Americans to take any initiative in a social way. In Port-au-Prince there is the American Club, whose membership is limited to Americans. It is situated on Tourgeau Street, one of the main residential streets, and has a most attractive clubhouse. Beside it there are two excellent clay tennis courts, where each afternoon the men play and are later joined for bridge or conversation by the ladies. Opportunity there is, too, for rum punches and cocktails, for Haiti is one of the "wet islands." Every other Saturday night and in between time upon the arrival of a foreign warship or some occasion of this kind, dances are held at the Club at which either the Gendarmerie band or a small native string orchestra play. The foreign personnel in Haiti consists chiefly of the Marine officers and treaty officials and their families. This is supplemented by members of the diplomatic corps and business men who are either engaged in business in Haiti or who are there looking over the country in view of future investments. And so there is a good-sized foreign colony, mostly American, in Port-au-Prince, which has a social life all of its own. There are two chief Haitian clubs--the Cercle Bellevue and the Port-au-Prince. The latter is a young men's club and is located on the Champ de Mars next to Brigade Headquarters. The Cercle Bellevue is the more representative and has a beautiful building in the upper part of town. Its members number as well as the Haitians, certain Americans who have been invited to join. Frequent dances are given by the Cercle Bellevue and they are, like all Latin American parties, far gayer and more elaborate than the American ones. Rarely does a party break up before 5 a.m. Nowhere in the world could more elaborate and yet correct entertainments be given than the Haitians have. During my visit the Argentine warship "Nuevo de Julio" came into Port-au-Prince and was the occasion for many entertainments, among them a luncheon to the American officers which was held on board and to which I was invited. It was one of the most delightful luncheons to which I have ever been. That night a state dinner was given by the Minister of Foreign Affairs, M. Barau, to the Argentine Officers, and to which the American Commanding Officer and the Officer of the Gendarmerie were also asked. Mme. Barau is French while her husband is of course a Haitian. No dinner anywhere, I was told, could have been given which would have been more appropriate or more delightful. The national standard coin of Haiti is a gourde, which is worth 20 cents in American money. It is made in the form of our American dollar, and means to the Haitian about what a dollar means to an American. About two years ago there was a scarcity of gourdes. An attempt was made to have others printed, but as the printing is done in Washington and at that time the printers' strike was in full swing, it was impossible to get the gourdes for a long time. This led to great hoarding of the gourdes, which resulted in their becoming even scarcer and finally in their depreciation to below 4 for a dollar. New gourdes were being given out when I arrived and they were back at their normal value of 5. The shops in Port-au-Prince are mostly Haitian. The West Indies Trading Company, an American concern, it is true, has two large stores at which much that is in American department stores can be purchased. But the rest are mostly native-owned. Simon Vieux is the leading grocery, and knick-knacks and odds-and-ends of every description can be gotten at "Le Paradis des Dames," "Aux Cents Mille Artiles," and "L'Ange Gardien." It was indeed with tremendous regret that I finally left Haiti the first week in February. Haiti, as I have shown, has a wonderful past in the commerce and cultivation of the French days and in the accomplishments of the heroes who made and kept her independent. But these records are only a preface to what a marvellous future she should have. Haiti is essentially a land of the future and of possibilities of which to-day we see only the barest vision. The curtain has already begun to rise upon Haiti as an agricultural land of the first class and more and more it will be opened up and become again the rich country which it once was. And in the future the Haitians and foreigners together will reap the benefit and they will be of great mutual aid to one another. * * * * * Transcriber's note: Minor typographical and punctuation errors have been corrected without note. Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have been retained as printed. 
59533	----	+-------------------------------------------------+ |Transcriber's note: | | | |Obvious typographic errors have been corrected. | | | +-------------------------------------------------+ SECRET HISTORY: OR, THE HORRORS OF ST. DOMINGO, IN A SERIES OF LETTERS, WRITTEN BY A LADY AT CAPE FRANCOIS TO COLONEL BURR, LATE VICE-PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES, PRINCIPALLY DURING THE COMMAND OF GENERAL ROCHAMBEAU. PHILADELPHIA: PUBLISHED BY BRADFORD & INSKEEP R. CARR, PRINTER. 1808. PREFACE. I am fearful of having been led into an error by my friends, when taught by them to believe that I could write something which would interest and please; and it was chiefly with a view to ascertain what confidence I might place in their kind assurances on this subject, that I collected and consented, though reluctantly, to the publication of these letters. Should a less partial public give them a favourable reception, and allow them to possess some merit, it would encourage me to endeavour to obtain their further approbation by a little work already planned and in some forwardness. THE AUTHOR. _Philadelphia, Nov. 30th, 1807._ LETTER I. _Cape Francois._ We arrived safely here, my dear friend, after a passage of forty days, during which I suffered horribly from sea-sickness, heat and confinement; but the society of my fellow-passengers was so agreeable that I often forgot the inconvenience to which I was exposed. It consisted of five or six French families who, having left St. Domingo at the beginning of the revolution, were now returning full of joy at the idea of again possessing the estates from which they had been driven by their revolted slaves. Buoyed by their newly awakened hopes they were all delightful anticipation. There is an elasticity in the French character which repels misfortune. They have an inexhaustible flow of spirits that bears them lightly through the ills of life. Towards the end of the voyage, when I was well enough to go on deck, I was delighted with the profound tranquillity of the ocean, the uninterrupted view, the beautiful horizon, and wished, since fate has separated me from those I love, that I could build a dwelling on the bosom of the waters, where, sheltered from the storms that agitate mankind, I should be exposed to those of heaven only. But a truce to melancholy reflections, for here I am in St. Domingo, with a new world opening to my view. My sister, whose fortunes, you know, I was obliged to follow, repents every day having so precipitately chosen a husband: it is impossible for two creatures to be more different, and I foresee that she will be wretched. On landing, we found the town a heap of ruins. A more terrible picture of desolation cannot be imagined. Passing through streets choaked with rubbish, we reached with difficulty a house which had escaped the general fate. The people live in tents, or make a kind of shelter, by laying a few boards across the half-consumed beams; for the buildings being here of hewn stone, with walls three feet thick, only the roofs and floors have been destroyed. But to hear of the distress which these unfortunate people have suffered, would fill with horror the stoutest heart, and make the most obdurate melt with pity. When the French fleet appeared before the mouth of the harbour, Christophe, the Black general, who commanded at the Cape, rode through the town, ordering all the women to leave their houses--the men had been taken to the plain the day before, for he was going to set fire to the place, which he did with his own hand. The ladies, bearing their children in their arms, or supporting the trembling steps of their aged mothers, ascended in crowds the mountain which rises behind the town. Climbing over rocks covered with brambles, where no path had been ever beat, their feet were torn to pieces and their steps marked with blood. Here they suffered all the pains of hunger and thirst; the most terrible apprehensions for their fathers, husbands, brothers and sons; to which was added the sight of the town in flames: and even these horrors were increased by the explosion of the powder magazine. Large masses of rock were detached by the shock, which, rolling down the sides of the mountain, many of these hapless fugitives were killed. Others still more unfortunate, had their limbs broken or sadly bruised, whilst their wretched companions could offer them nothing but unavailing sympathy and impotent regret. On the third day the negroes evacuated the place, and the fleet entered the harbour. Two gentlemen, who had been concealed by a faithful slave, went in a canoe to meet the admiral's vessel, and arrived in time to prevent a dreadful catastrophe. The general, seeing numbers of people descending the mountain, thought they were the negroes coming to oppose his landing and was preparing to fire on them, when these gentlemen informed him that they were the white inhabitants, and thus prevented a mistake too shocking to be thought of. The men now entered from the plain and sought among the smoaking ruins the objects of their affectionate solicitude. To paint these heart-rending scenes of tenderness and woe, description has no powers. The imagination itself shrinks from the task. Three months after this period we arrived and have now been a month here, the town is rapidly rebuilding, but it is extremely difficult to find a lodging. The heat is intolerable and the season so unhealthy that the people die in incredible numbers. On the night of our arrival, Toussaint the general in chief of the negroes, was seized at the Gonaives and embarked for France. This event caused great rejoicing. A short time before he was taken, he had his treasure buried in the woods, and at the return of the negroes he employed on this expedition, they were shot without being suffered to utter a word. Clara has had the yellow fever. Her husband, who certainly loves her very much, watched her with unceasing care, and I believe, preserved her life, to which however she attaches no value since it must be passed with him. Nothing amuses her. She sighs continually for the friend of her youth and seems to exist only in the recollection of past happiness. Her aversion to her husband is unqualified and unconquerable. He is vain, illiterate, talkative. A silent fool may be borne, but from a loquacious one there is no relief. How painful must her intercourse with him be; and how infinitely must that pain be augmented by the idea of being his forever? Her elegant mind, stored with literary acquirements, is lost to him. Her proud soul is afflicted at depending on one she abhors, and at beholding her form, and you know that form so vilely bartered. Whilst on the continent she was less sensible of the horrors of her fate. The society of her friend gave a charm to her life, and having married in compliance with his advice, she thought that she would eventually be happy. But their separation has rent the veil which concealed her heart; she finds no sympathy in the bosom of her husband. She is alone and she is wretched. General Le Clerc is small, his face is interesting, but he has an appearance of ill health. His wife, the sister of Buonaparte, lives in a house on the mountain till there can be one in town prepared for her reception. She is offended, and I think justly, with the ladies of the Cape, who, from a mistaken pride, did not wait on her when she arrived, because having lost their cloaths they could not dazzle her with their finery. Having heard that there were some American ladies here she expressed a desire to see them; Mr. V---- proposed to present us; Clara, who would not walk a mile to see a queen, declined. But I, who walk at all times, merely for the pleasure it affords me, went; and, considering the labour it costs to ascend the mountain, I have a claim on the gratitude of Madame for having undertaken it to shew her an object which she probably expected to find in a savage state. She was in a room darkened by Venetian blinds, lying on her sofa, from which she half rose to receive me. When I was seated she reclined again on the sofa and amused general Boyer, who sat at her feet, by letting her slipper fall continually, which he respectfully put on as often as it fell. She is small, fair, with blue eyes and flaxen hair. Her face is expressive of sweetness but without spirit. She has a voluptuous mouth, and is rendered interesting by an air of languor which spreads itself over her whole frame. She was dressed in a muslin morning gown, with a Madras handkerchief on her head. I gave her one of the beautiful silver medals of Washington, engraved by Reich, with which she seemed much pleased. The conversation languished, and I soon withdrew. General Le Clerc had gone in the morning to fort Dauphin. I am always in good spirits, for every thing here charms me by its novelty. There are a thousand pretty things to be had, new fashions and elegant trinkets from Paris; but we have no balls, no plays, and of what use is finery if it cannot be shewn? The natives of this country murmur already against the general in chief; they say he places too much confidence in the negroes. When Toussaint was seized he had all the black chiefs in his power, and, by embarking them for France, he would have spread terror throughout the Island, and the negroes would have been easily reduced, instead of which he relies on their good faith, has them continually in his house, at his table, and wastes the time in conference which should be differently employed. The Creoles shake their heads and predict much ill. Accustomed to the climate, and acquainted with the manner of fighting the Negroes, they offer advice, which is not listened to; nor are any of them employed, but all places of honour or emolument are held by Europeans, who appear to regard the Island as a place to be conquered and divided among the victors, and are consequently viewed by the natives with a jealous eye. Indeed the professed intention of those who have come with the army, is to make a fortune, and return to France with all possible speed, to enjoy it. It cannot be imagined that they will be very delicate about the means of accomplishing their purpose. The Cape is surrounded; at least the plain is held by the Negroes; but the town is tranquil, and Dessalines and the other black chiefs are on the best terms with general Le Clerc. We are to have a grand review next week. The militia is to be organized, and the general is to address the troops on the field. He has the reputation of being very eloquent, but he has shocked every body by having ordered a superb service of plate, made of the money intended to pay the army, while the poor soldiers, badly cloathed, and still more badly fed, are asking alms in the street, and absolutely dying of want. A beggar had never been known in this country, and to see them in such numbers, fills the inhabitants with horror; but why should such trifling considerations as the preservation of soldiers, prevent a general in chief from eating out of silver dishes? We have neither public nor private balls, nor any amusement except now and then a little scandal. The most current at this moment is, that Madame Le Clerc is very kind to general Boyer, and that her husband is not content, which in a French husband is a little extraordinary. Perhaps the last part of the anecdote is calumny. Madame Le Clerc, as I learned from a gentleman who has long known her, betrayed from her earliest youth a disposition to gallantry, and had, when very young, some adventures of eclat in Marseilles. Her brother, whose favourite she is, married her to general Le Clerc, to whom he gave the command of the army intended to sail for St. Domingo, after having given that island, as a marriage portion, to his sister. But her reluctance to come to this country was so great, that it was almost necessary to use force to oblige her to embark. She has one child, a lovely boy, three years old, of which she appears very fond. But for a young and beautiful woman, accustomed to the sweets of adulation, and the intoxicating delights of Paris, certainly the transition to this country, in its present state, has been too violent. She has no society, no amusement, and never having imagined that she would be forced to seek an equivalent for either in the resources of her own mind, she has made no provision for such an unforeseen emergency. She hates reading, and though passionately fond of music plays on no instrument; never having stolen time from her pleasurable pursuits to devote to the acquisition of that divine art. She can do nothing but dance, and to dance alone is a triste resource; therefore it cannot be surprising if her early propensities predominate, and she listens to the tale of love breathed by General Boyer, for never did a more fascinating votary offer his vows at the Idalian shrine. His form and face are models of masculine perfection; his eyes sparkle with enthusiasm, and his voice is modulated by a sweetness of expression which cannot be heard without emotion. Thus situated, and thus surrounded, her youth and beauty plead for her, and those most disposed to condemn would exclaim on beholding her: "If to her share some female errors fall, Look in her face, and you'll forget them all." I suppose you'll laugh at this gossip, but 'tis the news of the day, nothing is talked of but Madame Le Clerc, and envy and ill-nature pursue her because she is charming and surrounded by splendor. I have just now been reading Madame De Stael on the passions, which she describes very well, but I believe not precisely as she felt their influence. I have heard an anecdote of her which I admire; a friend, to whom she had communicated her intention of publishing her memoirs, asked what she intended doing with the gallant part,--Oh, she replied, je ne me peindrai qu'en buste. LETTER II. _Cape Francois._ What a change has taken place here since my last letter was written! I mentioned that there was to be a grand review, and I also mentioned that the confidence General Le Clerc placed in the negroes was highly blamed, and justly, as he has found to his cost. On the day of the review, when the troops of the line and the guarde nationale were assembled on the field, a plot was discovered, which had been formed by the negroes in the town, to seize the arsenal and to point the cannon of a fort, which overlooked the place of review, on the troops; whilst Clairvaux, the mulatto general, who commanded the advanced posts, was to join the negroes of the plain, overpower the guards, and entering the town, complete the destruction of the white inhabitants. The first part of the plot was discovered and defeated. But Clairvaux made good his escape, and in the evening attacked the post General Le Clerc had so imprudently confided to him. The consternation was terrible. The guarde nationale, composed chiefly of Creoles, did wonders. The American captains and sailors volunteered their services; they fought bravely, and many of them perished. The negroes were repulsed; but if they gained no ground they lost none, and they occupy at present the same posts as before. The pusillanimous General Le Clerc, shrinking from danger of which his own imprudence had been the cause, thought only of saving himself. He sent his plate and valuable effects on board the admiral's vessel, and was preparing to embark secretly with his suite, but the brave admiral La Touche de Treville sent him word that he would fire with more pleasure on those who abandoned the town, than on those who attacked it. The ensuing morning presented a dreadful spectacle. Nothing was heard but the groans of the wounded, who were carried through the streets to their homes, and the cries of the women for their friends who were slain. The general, shut up in his house, would see nobody; ashamed of the weakness which had led to this disastrous event, and of the want of courage he had betrayed: a fever seized him and he died in three days. Madame Le Clerc, who had not loved him whilst living, mourned his death like the Ephesian matron, cut off her hair, which was very beautiful, to put it in his coffin; refused all sustenance and all public consolation. General Rochambeau, who is at Port au Prince, has been sent for by the inhabitants of the Cape to take the command. Much good is expected from the change, he is said to be a brave officer and an excellent man. Monsieur D'Or is in the interim Captain General, and unites in himself the three principal places in the government: Prefect Colonial, Ordonnateur, and General in Chief. All this bustle would be delightful if it was not attended with such melancholy consequences. It keeps us from petrifying, of which I was in danger. I have become acquainted with some Creole ladies who, having staid in the Island during the revolution, relate their sufferings in a manner which harrows up the soul; and dwell on the recollection of their long lost happiness with melancholy delight. St. Domingo was formerly a garden. Every inhabitant lived on his estate like a Sovereign ruling his slaves with despotic sway, enjoying all that luxury could invent, or fortune procure. The pleasures of the table were carried to the last degree of refinement. Gaming knew no bounds, and libertinism, called love, was without restraint. The Creole is generous hospitable, magnificent, but vain, inconstant, and incapable of serious application; and in this abode of pleasure and luxurious ease vices have reigned at which humanity must shudder. The jealousy of the women was often terrible in its consequences. One lady, who had a beautiful negro girl continually about her person, thought she saw some symptoms of _tendresse_ in the eyes of her husband, and all the furies of jealousy seized her soul. She ordered one of her slaves to cut off the head of the unfortunate victim, which was instantly done. At dinner her husband said he felt no disposition to eat, to which his wife, with the air of a demon, replied, perhaps I can give you something that will excite your appetite; it has at least had that effect before. She rose and drew from a closet the head of Coomba. The husband, shocked beyond expression, left the house and sailed immediately for France, in order never again to behold such a monster. Many similar anecdotes have been related by my Creole friends; but one of them, after having excited my warmest sympathy, made me laugh heartily in the midst of my tears. She told me that her husband was stabbed in her arms by a slave whom he had always treated as his brother; that she had seen her children killed, and her house burned, but had been herself preserved by a faithful slave, and conducted, after incredible sufferings, and through innumerable dangers to the Cape. The same slave, she added, and the idea seemed to console her for every other loss, saved all my madrass handkerchiefs. The Creole ladies have an air of voluptuous languor which renders them extremely interesting. Their eyes, their teeth, and their hair are remarkably beautiful, and they have acquired from the habit of commanding their slaves, an air of dignity which adds to their charms. Almost too indolent to pronounce their words they speak with a drawling accent that is very agreeable: but since they have been roused by the pressure of misfortune many of them have displayed talents and found resources in the energy of their own minds which it would have been supposed impossible for them to possess. They have naturally a taste for music; dance with a lightness, a grace, an elegance peculiar to themselves, and those who, having been educated in France, unite the French vivacity to the Creole sweetness, are the most irresistible creatures that the imagination can conceive. In the ordinary intercourse of life they are delightful; but if I wanted a friend on any extraordinary occasion I would not venture to rely on their stability. LETTER III. _Cape Francois._ The so much desired general Rochambeau is at length here. His arrival was announced, not by the ringing of bells, for they have none, but by the firing of cannon. Every body, except myself went to see him land, and I was prevented, not by want of curiosity, but by indisposition. Nothing is heard of but the public joy. He is considered as the guardian, as the saviour of the people. Every proprietor feels himself already on his habitation and I have even heard some of them disputing about the quality of the coffee they expect soon to gather; perhaps these sanguine Creoles may find that they have reckoned without their host. However, _en attendant_, the General, who it seems bears pleasure as well as conquest in his train, gives a grand ball on Thursday next. We are invited, and we go. Clara is delighted! for the first time since our arrival her eyes brightened at receiving the invitation, and the important subject of what colours are to be worn, what fashions adopted, is continually discussed. Her husband, whose chief pleasure is to see her brilliant, indulges all the extravagance of her capricious taste. She sighs for conquest because she is a stranger to content, and will enter into every scheme of dissipation with eagerness to forget for a moment her internal wretchedness. She is unhappy, though surrounded by splendor, because from the constitution of her mind she cannot derive happiness from an object that does not interest her heart. My letter shall not be closed till after the ball of which I suppose you will be glad to have a description. But why do you not write to me? I am ignorant of your pursuits and even of the place of your abode, and though convinced that you cannot forget me, I am afflicted if I do not receive assurances of your friendship by every vessel that arrives! Clara has not written, for nothing has hitherto had power to rouse her from the lethargy into which she had sunk. Perhaps the scenes of gaiety in which she is now going to engage may dispell the gloom which threatened to destroy all the energy of her charming mind. Perhaps too these scenes may be more fatal to her peace than the gloom of which I complain, for in this miserable world we know not what to desire. The accomplishment of our wishes is often a real misfortune. We pass our lives in searching after happiness, and how many die without having found it! _In Continuation._ Well my dear friend the ball is over--that ball of which I promised you a description. But who can describe the heat or suffocating sensations felt in a crowd? The General has an agreeable face, a sweet mouth, and most enchanting smile; but "Like the sun, he shone on all alike," and paid no particular attention to any object. His uniform was _a la hussar_, and very brilliant; he wore red boots:--but his person is bad, he is too short; a Bacchus-like figure, which accords neither with my idea of a great General nor a great man. But you know one of my faults is to create objects in my imagination on the model of my incomparable friend, and then to dislike every thing I meet because it falls short of my expectations. I was disappointed at the ball, because I was confounded in the crowd, but my disappointment was trifling compared with that felt by Clara. Accustomed to admiration she expected to receive it on this occasion in no moderate portion, and to find herself undistinguished was not flattering. She did not dance, staid only an hour, and has declared against all balls in future. But there is one announced by the Admiral which may perhaps induce her to change her resolution. Madame Le Clerc has sailed for France with the body of her husband, which was embalmed here. The place is tranquil. The arrival of General Rochambeau seems to have spread terror among the negroes. I wish they were reduced to order that I might see the so much vaunted habitations where I should repose beneath the shade of orange groves; walk on carpets of rose leaves and frenchipone; be fanned to sleep by silent slaves, or have my feet tickled into extacy by the soft hand of a female attendant. Such were the pleasures of the Creole ladies whose time was divided between the bath, the table, the toilette and the lover. What a delightful existence! thus to pass away life in the arms of voluptuous indolence; to wander over flowery fields of unfading verdure, or through forests of majestic palm-trees, sit by a fountain bursting from a savage rock frequented only by the cooing dove, and indulge in these enchanting solitudes all the reveries of an exalted imagination. But the moment of enjoying these pleasures is, I fear, far distant. The negroes have felt during ten years the blessing of liberty, for a blessing it certainly is, however acquired, and they will not be easily deprived of it. They have fought and vanquished the French troops, and their strength has increased from a knowledge of the weakness of their opposers, and the climate itself combats for them. Inured to a savage life they lay in the woods without being injured by the sun, the dew or the rain. A negro eats a plantain, a sour orange, the herbs and roots of the field, and requires no cloathing, whilst this mode of living is fatal to the European soldiers. The sun and the dew are equally fatal to them, and they have perished in such numbers that, if reinforcements do not arrive, it will soon be impossible to defend the town. The country is entirely in the hands of the negroes, and whilst their camp abounds in provisions, every thing in town is extremely scarce and enormously dear. Every evening several old Creoles, who live near us, assemble at our house, and talk of their affairs. One of them, whose annual income before the revolution was fifty thousand dollars, which he always exceeded in his expenses, now lives in a miserable hut and prolongs with the greatest difficulty his wretched existence. Yet he still hopes for better days, in which hope they all join him. The distress they feel has not deprived them of their gaiety. They laugh, they sing, they join in the dance with the young girls of the neighbourhood, and seem to forget their cares in the prospect of having them speedily removed. LETTER IV. _Cape Francois._ The ball announced by the admiral exceeded all expectations and we are still all extacy. Boats, covered with carpets, conveyed the company from the shore to the vessel, which was anchored about half a mile from the land, and on entering the ball room a fairy palace presented itself to the view. The decks were floored in; a roof of canvas was suspended over the whole length of the vessel, which reached the floor on each side, and formed a beautiful apartment. Innumerable lustres of chrystal and wreaths of natural flowers ornamented the ceiling; and rose and orange-trees, in full blossom, ranged round the room, filled the air with fragrance. The seats were elevated, and separated from the part appropriated to dancing, by a light balustrade. A gallery for the musicians was placed round the main-mast, and the whole presented to the eye an elegant saloon, raised by magic in a wilderness of sweets. Clara and myself, accompanied by her husband and Major B----, were among the first who arrived. Never had I beheld her so interesting. A robe of white crape shewed to advantage the contours of her elegant person. Her arms and bosom were bare; her black hair, fastened on the top with a brilliant comb, was ornamented by a rose which seemed to have been thrown there by accident. We were presented to the admiral, who appeared struck by the figure of Clara, and was saying some very flattering things, when a flourish of martial music announced the arrival of the General in chief. The admiral hastened to meet him, and they walked round the room together. When the dances began the general leaned against the orchestra opposite Clara. Her eyes met his. She bent them to the ground, raised them timidly and found those of the general fixed on her: a glow of crimson suffused itself over her face and bosom. I observed her attentively and knew it was the flush of triumph! She declined dancing, but when the walses began she was led out. Those who have not seen Clara walse know not half her charms. There is a physiognomy in her form! every motion is full of soul. The gracefulness of her arms is unequalled, and she is lighter than gossamer. The eyes of the general dwelt on her alone, and I heard him inquire of several who she was. The walse finished, she walked round the room leaning on the arm of Major B----. The general followed, and meeting her husband, asked (pointing to Clara) if he knew the name of that lady. Madame St. Louis, was the reply. I thought she was an American said the general. So she is, replied St. Louis, but her husband is a Frenchman. That's true, added the general, but they say he is a d----d jealous fool, is he here? He has the honour of answering you, said St. Louis. The general was embarrassed for a moment, but recovering himself said, I am not surprised at your being jealous, for she is a charming creature. And he continued uttering so many flattering things that St. Louis was in the best humour imaginable. When Clara heard the story, she laughed, and, I saw, was delighted with a conquest she now considered assured. When she sat down, Major B---- presented the General to her, and his pointed attention rendered her the object of universal admiration. He retired at midnight: the ball continued. An elegant collation was served up, and at sunrise we returned home! The admiral is a very agreeable man, and I would prefer him, as a lover, to any of his officers, though he is sixty years old. His manners are affable and perfectly elegant; his figure graceful and dignified, and his conversation sprightly. He joined the dance at the request of a lady, with all the spirit of youth, and appeared to enjoy the pleasure which his charming fête diffused. He told Clara that he would twine a wreath of myrtle to crown her, for she had vanquished the General. She replied, that she would mingle it with laurel, and lay it at his feet for having, by preserving the Cape, given her an opportunity of making the conquest. Nothing is heard of but balls and parties. Monsieur D'Or gives a concert every Thursday; the General in chief every Sunday: so that from having had no amusement we are in danger of falling into the other extreme, and of being satiated with pleasure. The Negroes remain pretty tranquil in this quarter; but at Port-au-Prince, and in its neighbourhood, they have been very troublesome. Jeremie, Les Cayes, and all that part of the island which had been preserved, during the revolution, by the exertions of the inhabitants, have been lost since the appearance of the French troops! The Creoles complain, and they have cause; for they find in the army sent to defend them, oppressors who appear to seek their destruction. Their houses and their negroes are put under requisition, and they are daily exposed to new vexations. Some of the ancient inhabitants of the island, who had emigrated, begin to think that their hopes were too sanguine, and that they have returned too soon from the peaceful retreats they found on the continent. They had supposed that the appearance of an army of thirty thousand men would have reduced the negroes to order; but these conquerors of Italy, unnerved by the climate, or from some other cause, lose all their energy, and fly before the undisciplined slaves. Many of the Creoles, who had remained on the island during the reign of Toussaint, regret the change, and say that they were less vexed by the negroes than by those who have come to protect them. And these negroes, notwithstanding the state of brutal subjection in which they were kept, have at length acquired a knowledge of their own strength. More than five hundred thousand broke the yoke imposed on them by a few thousand men of a different colour, and claimed the rights of which they had been so cruelly deprived. Unfortunate were those who witnessed the horrible catastrophe which accompanied the first wild transports of freedom! Dearly have they paid for the luxurious ease in which they revelled at the expense of these oppressed creatures. Yet even among these slaves, self-emancipated, and rendered furious by a desire of vengeance, examples of fidelity and attachment to their masters have been found, which do honour to human nature. For my part, I am all anxiety to return to the continent. Accustomed from my earliest infancy to wander on the delightful banks of the Schuylkill, to meet the keen air on Kensington bridge, and to ramble over the fields which surround Philadelphia, I feel like a prisoner in this little place, built on a narrow strip of land between the sea and a mountain that rises perpendicularly behind the town. There is to be sure an opening on one side to the plain, but the negroes are there encamped; they keep the ground of which general Le Clerc suffered them to take possession, and threaten daily to attack the town! There is no scarcity of beaux here, but the gallantry of the French officers is fatiguing from its sameness. They think their appearance alone sufficient to secure a conquest, and do not conceive it necessary to give their yielding mistresses a decent excuse by paying them a little attention. In three days a love-affair is begun and finished and forgotten; the first is for the declaration, the second is the day of triumph if it is deferred so long, and the third is for the adieu. The Creoles do not relish the attacks made on their wives by the officers. The husband of Clara in particular is as jealous as a Turk, and has more than once shewn his displeasure at the pointed attentions of the General-in-chief to his wife, which she encourages, out of contradiction to her husband rather than from any pleasure they afford her. The boisterous gaiety and soldier-like manners of general Rochambeau, can have made no impression on a heart tender and delicate as is that of Clara. But there is a vein of coquetry in her composition which, if indulged, will eventually destroy her peace. A tragical event happened lately at Port-au-Prince. At a public breakfast, given by the commandant, an officer just arrived from France, addressing himself to a lady, called her _citoyenne_.--The lady observed that she would never answer to that title. The stranger replied that she ought to be proud of being so called. On which her husband, interfering, said that his wife should never answer to any mode of address that she found displeasing. No more passed at that time, but before noon Monsieur C---- received a challenge: the choice of weapons being left to him, he said that it was absolutely indifferent: the stranger insisted on fighting with a rifle; Monsieur C---- replied that he should have no objection to fight with a cannon: it was however, finally settled, that the affair should be decided with pistols; and at sun-rise next morning they met: the officer fired without effect. Monsieur C----, with surer aim laid his antagonist lifeless on the ground. On what trifles depends the destiny of man! but the Europeans are so insolent that a few such lessons are absolutely necessary to correct them. Monsieur C---- is a Creole, and belonged to the Staff of the general who commands at Port-au-Prince, from which he has been dismissed in consequence of this affair, which is another proof of the hatred the French officers bear the inhabitants of this country. We have here a General of division, who is enriching himself by all possible means, and with such unblushing rapacity, that he is universally detested. He was a blacksmith before the revolution, and his present pursuits bear some affinity to his original employment, having taken possession of a plantation on which he makes charcoal, and which he sells to the amount of a hundred dollars a day. A carricature has appeared in which he is represented tying up sacks of coal. Madame A----, his mistress, standing near him, holds up his embroidered coat and says, "Don't soil yourself, General." LETTER V. _Cape Francois._ Three of your letters arriving at the same time, my dear friend, have made me blush for my impatience, and force me to acknowledge that I have wronged you. But your friendship is so necessary to my happiness that the idea of losing it is insupportable. You know what clouds of misfortune have obscured my life. An orphan without friends, without support, separated from my sister from my infancy, and, at an age when the heart is most alive to tenderness and affection, deprived by the unrelenting hand of death, of him who had taught me to feel all the transports of passion, and for whose loss I felt all its despair--Cast on the world without an asylum, without resource, I met you:--you raised me--soothed me--whispered peace to my lacerated breast! Ah! can I ever forget that delightful moment when your care saved me? It was so long since I had known sympathy or consolation that my astonished soul knew not how to receive the enchanting visitants; fleeting as fervent was my joy: but let me not repine! Your friendship has shed a ray of light on my solitary way, and though removed from the influence of your immediate presence, I exist only in the hope of seeing you again. In restoring me to my sister, at the moment of her marriage, you procured for me a home not only respectable, but in which all the charms of fashionable elegance, all the attractions of pleasure are united. Unfortunately, Clara, amidst these intoxicating scenes of ever-varying amusement, and attended by crowds, who offer her the incense of adulation, is wretched, and I cannot be happy! You know her early habits have been different from mine; affluence might have been thought necessary to her, yet the sensibility of her heart rejects the futile splendour that surrounds her, and the tears that often stain her brilliant robes, shew that they cover a bosom to which peace is a stranger! The fortune of her husband was his only advantage. The friend who had been charged with Clara from her infancy had accustomed her to enjoy the sweets of opulence, and thought nothing more desirable than to place her in a situation where she could still command them. Alas her happiness has been the sacrifice of his mistaken, though well meant, intentions. St. Louis is too sensible of the real superiority of his wife not to set some value on that which he derives from his money, and tears of bitterest regret often fill her eyes when contemplating the splendor which has been so dearly purchased. Though to me he has been invariably kind yet my heart is torn with regret at the torments which his irascible temper inflict on his wife. They force her to seek relief in the paths of pleasure, whilst destined by nature to embellish the sphere of domestic felicity. LETTER VI. _Cape Francois._ General Rochambeau has given Clara a proof of his attention to her wishes at once delicate and flattering. She dined with a large party at the Government-house, where, as usual, he was entirely devoted to her. After dinner, he led her, followed by the company, to a saloon, that was fitting up for a dining-room. It was ornamented with military trophies, and on every pannel was written the name of some distinguished chief. On one Buonaparte, on another Frederic, on another Massena, &c. Clara said it was very pretty, but that Washington should also have found a place there! A few days after, a grand ball was given, and, on entering the ball-room, we saw, on a pannel facing the door, Washington, Liberty, and Independence! This merited a smile, and the general received a most gracious one. It was new-year's eve. When the clock struck twelve, Clara, approaching the general, took a rose from her bosom, saying, let me be the first to wish you a happy new-year, and to offer you les etrennes. He took the rose, passed it across his lips, and put it in his bosom. The next morning, an officer called on her, and presented her a pacquet in the name of the general in chief. On opening it she found a brilliant cross, with a superb chain, accompanied by an elegant billet, praying her acceptance of these trifles. Take it back, she exclaimed, I gave the general a flower, and will accept nothing of greater value.--The officer refused, and, as the eyes of her husband expressed no disapprobation, she kept it. We have since learned that it is customary to make at this season, magnificent presents, and this accounts for the passiveness of St. Louis on this occasion. Shortly after, at a breakfast given by Madame A----, Clara appeared with her brilliant cross: the General was there. When they sat down to table, he offered her an apple, which she declined accepting. Take it, said he, for on Mount Ida I would have given it to you, and in Eden I would have taken it from you. She replied laughing, no, no; since you attach so much value to your apple I certainly will not accept it, for I wish equally to avoid discord and temptation. Her husband looked displeased, and withdrew as soon as possible. On their return home, he told her that her flirting with the General, if carried much farther, would probably cost her too dear. She became serious, and I foresee the approaching destruction of all domestic tranquillity. Clara, proud and high spirited, will submit to no control. If her husband reposed confidence in her she would not abuse it. But his soul cannot raise itself to a level with that of his wife, and he will strive in vain to reduce her to that of his own. He has declared that she shall go to no more balls; and she has declared as peremptorily, that she will go where she pleases. So on the first public occasion there will be a contest for supremacy, which will decide forever the empire of the party that conquers. Their jarrings distress me beyond measure. I had hoped to find tranquillity with my sister, but alas! she is herself a stranger to it. I have no pleasure but that which the recollection of your friendship affords, which will be dear to my heart whilst that heart is conscious of feeling or affection. LETTER VII. _Cape Francois._ The brigands have at length made the attack they so long threatened, and we have been terribly alarmed. On Thursday last, one party approached the fort before day break, whilst another, passing behind the barrier, which is at the entrance of the plain, unobserved by the guard, surprised fort Belleair, which stands on an elevation adjoining the town, and killed the officer and twelve soldiers. The wife of the officer, who commanded that post, had gone, the day before to stay with her husband. Herself and her child were pierced by the same bayonet. The body of the officer lay across the bed, as if he had died in the act of defending them. The negroes were advancing silently into the town, when they were discovered by a centinel who gave the alarm. The troops rushed to arms. The Brigands were repulsed: but those who had taken possession of fort Belleair made a vigorous resistance. St. Louis, who commands a company in the guarde nationale, was the first on the field. It was discovered that the negroes in the town intended to join those who attacked it from without and to kill the women and children, who were shut up in their houses, without any one to defend them; but the patroles of the guarde d'honneur prevented, by their vigilance, the execution of this design. At nine o'clock the general sent to tell Clara that the part of the town she lived in being very much exposed, she had better come to his house and he would send her on board the admiral's vessel. She replied that it was impossible for her to go, her husband having desired her on no account to leave the house; therefore she added, "Here I must stay if I am sure to perish." The action continued at the barrier and advanced posts during the day. The negroes, depending on their numbers, seemed determined to decide at once the fate of the town, and we passed the day in a situation which I cannot describe. In the evening the general sent an officer to tell Clara that he had some news from her husband which he could communicate to none but herself. The first idea that presented itself was, that St. Louis had been killed. She seized my arm and without waiting to take even a veil hurried out of the house. A gloomy silence reigned throughout the streets. She arrived breathless at the government house. The general met her in the hall, took her gravely by the hand and led her into a parlor. What have you to tell me? she cried, where is St. Louis? Calm your spirits said the general. Your agitation renders you unfit to hear any thing! But seeing that his hesitation encreased her distress, he said, laughing, your husband is well, has behaved gallantly, and seems invulnerable; for though numbers have been killed and wounded at his post, he has remained unhurt! Then why, she asked, have you alarmed me so unnecessarily, and made me come here, when you knew he had desired me not to leave the house? He will never believe my motive for coming, and I shall be killed! The general strove to soothe her, said that it would be highly improper to pass the night in her house, that several ladies had embarked, and that she must go on board, which she positively declined. At that moment the officer who had accompanied us, entered, and presenting some papers to the general, they both went into another room. Directly after the general called Clara. She went, and I followed her. He was alone, and looked as if he thought me an intruder, but I continued at her side. The papers he held in his hand were dispatches from the camp. He told her that St. Louis would remain out all night, and again requested her to think of her own safety. But she would not listen to his proposal of sending her on board; and, attended by the officer who had accompanied us, we returned home. Whilst the general was talking with Clara, I examined the apartment, which had been Madame Le Clerc's dressing-room. The sofas and curtains were of blue sattin with silver fringe. A door, which stood open, led into the bedchamber. The canopy of the bed was in the form of a shell, from which little cupids descending held back with one hand, curtains of white sattin trimmed with gold, and pointed with the other to a large mirror which formed the tester. On a table, in the form of an altar, which stood near the bed, was an alabaster figure representing silence, with a finger on its lips, and bearing in its hand a waxen taper. The first thing we heard on our return was that a soldier, sent by St. Louis, had enquired for Clara, and not finding her, had returned immediately to the camp. She was distressed beyond measure, and exclaimed, "I had better go forever, for St. Louis will kill me!" I endeavoured to console her, though I felt that her apprehensions were not groundless. She passed the night in agony, and awaited the return of her husband in the most painful agitation. At ten the next morning he arrived, having left his post without orders, and thus exposed himself to all the rigours of a court-martial. He was trembling with rage, transported with fury, and had more the air of a demon than a man. I know your conduct madam, he cried, on entering, you left the house contrary to my desire; but I shall find means of punishing you, and of covering with shame the monster who has sought to destroy me! He seized her by the arm, and dragging her into a little dressing-room at the end of the gallery, locked her in, and, taking the key in his pocket, went to the government house, and without waiting till the officers in the antichamber announced him, entered the room where the general was alone, reclining on a sofa, who arose, and approaching him familiarly said, "St. Louis, I am glad to see you, and was just thinking of you; but did not know that you had been relieved." I have not been relieved, replied St. Louis, but have left a post where I was most unjustly placed and kept all night, to give you an opportunity of accomplishing your infernal designs. You expected, no doubt, that I would have shared the fate of my brave companions, which I have escaped, and am here to tell you what every body believes but which no body dares utter, that you are a villain!--I know to what I am exposed in consequence of leaving my post. You are my superior, it is true; but if you are not a coward you will wave all distinction, and give me the satisfaction due to a gentleman you have injured. He then walked hastily away, before the general could recover from his surprise. The officer, who had accompanied us the night before, followed and attempted to soothe him. He said that he had been sent by the general to take Clara to his house because the part of the town in which she lived was absolutely unsafe, and that he had used a little stratagem to induce her to come, but that she had absolutely refused staying;--that Mademoiselle, (meaning my ladyship) had gone with her, and that he had not left her till he had conducted her home. This a little softened the rage of St. Louis! He has a good opinion of this young man, who by the bye, is a charming creature. They entered the house together. I was alone, and joined my assurances to those of the officer, that we had not quitted Clara an instant. He was now sorry for having treated her so harshly; but did not regret the scene that had passed at the general's. At this moment a soldier entered, who told him that they had been relieved directly after he had left them, and that no notice had been taken of his departure. I now learned that St. Louis, with sixty men, had been placed in the most advanced post, on the very summit of the mountain, where they were crowded together on the point of a rock. In this disadvantageous position, they had been attacked by the negroes; forty men were killed; and the troops of the line, who were a little lower down, had offered them no assistance. It being the first time that the guarde nationale had been placed before the troops of the line the common opinion is, that it was the general's intention to have St. Louis destroyed, as it was by his order that he was so stationed, and kept there all night, though the other posts had been relieved at midnight. St. Louis forgot his rage and his sufferings in the assurance that Clara had not been faithless. He went to the room in which he had confined her, threw himself at her feet, and burst into tears. Clara, affected by his pain, or ashamed of having so tormented him,--or fatigued with their eternal broils, leaned over him, and mingled her tears with his. When the violence of her emotion subsided, she entreated him to forgive the inconsiderateness of her conduct, and vowed that she would never again offend him.--But you have destroyed yourself, she continued, the general will never pardon you: let us leave this hated country, where tranquillity is unknown. After much debate, it was agreed that he should send us to Philadelphia, and that he would follow himself as soon as he had arranged his affairs. Clara keeps her room and sees nobody, her husband is in despair at parting with her, but proposes following her immediately. We embark in ten days. What power shall I invoke to grant us favourable winds? Whose protection solicit to conduct me speedily to my native shores, and to the society of my friends? LETTER VIII. _Cape Francois._ We are still here, my dear friend, and my disappointment and vexation have been so great, that ten days have passed since I have written a single line. The general, thinking Clara was sent away against her will, and determined to thwart the intentions of her husband, laid an embargo on all the vessels in the port. St. Louis raved, and swore she should not leave her room till he conducted her on board. To prevent all intercourse from without, he keeps her locked up in a small room, adjoining her chamber.--Nobody, not even myself, can see her, except in his presence; and thus all confidence is at an end between them. She weeps continually, and I am afraid the torments she suffers will destroy her health. St. Louis is unworthy of her: he thinks it possible to force her to love him:--How much more would a generous confidence influence a heart like her's! Many of his friends have represented to him the impropriety of his conduct. The challenge he gave general Rochambeau filled every body with terror, for it exposed him to certain death. To have left his post without orders was a crime equally serious; and, if the general has passed them both over in silence, it is supposed that his vengeance only slumbers for a time to be more sure in its effect. He thinks Clara attached to the general. I know she is not! her vanity alone has been interested. To be admired was her aim, and she knew that, by attracting the notice of the general in chief, her end would be accomplished. She succeeded even beyond her wishes, but it has been a dangerous experiment; and will cost her, I fear, the small portion of domestic _peace_ she enjoyed.--Domestic _felicity_ she never knew! I am convinced that she has never been less happy than since her marriage! Nothing can be more brutal than St. Louis in his rage! The day of his affair with the general, he threw her on the ground, and then dragged her by the hair:--I flew to her, but his aspect so terrified me that I was obliged to withdraw: and when his fits of tenderness return he is as bad in the other extreme. He kneels before her, entreats her pardon, and overwhelms her with caresses more painful to her than the most terrible effects of his ill-humour. And then his temper is so capricious that he cannot be counted upon a moment. I have seen him oblige her to stay at home and pass the evening alone with him, after she had dressed for a ball. This does not accord with the liberty French ladies are supposed to enjoy. But I believe Clara is not the first wife that has been locked up at St. Domingo, yet she excites little sympathy because she has not the good fortune to be one of the privileged. _In Continuation._ Certain events, which shall be related, prevented me from finishing my letter. The same events have produced an entire change in our affairs, and we are now fixed at St. Domingo for some time. The embargo is raised:--the general in chief is gone to Port-au-Prince; all the belles of the Cape have followed him. Clara is at liberty, and her husband content! As soon as we had an opportunity of conversing together, Clara related to me occurrences which seem like scenes of romance, but I am convinced of their reality. Under the window of the little apartment in which she was confined, there is an old building standing in a court surrounded by high walls. The general informed himself of the position of Clara's chamber, and his intelligent valet, who makes love to one of her servants, found that it would not be difficult to give her a letter, which his dulcinea refused charging herself with. He watched the moment of St. Louis's absence, entered the deserted court, mounted the tottering roof, and, calling Clara to the window, gave her the letter, glowing with the warmest professions of love, and suggesting several schemes for her escape, one of which was, that she should embark on board a vessel that he would indicate, and that he would agree with the captain to put into Port-au-Prince, whither he would speedily follow her.--Another was, to escape in the night by the same window, and go to his house, where he would receive and protect her. But the heart of Clara acknowledged not the empire of general Rochambeau, nor had she even the slightest intention of listening to him. If her husband knew all this it would cure him, I suppose, of his passion for locking up. But, incapable of generosity himself, he cannot admire it in another, and would attribute her refusal of the general's offers to any motive but the real one. How often has she assured me that she would prefer the most extreme poverty to her present existence, but to abandon her husband was not to be thought of. Yet to have abandoned him, and to have been presented as the declared mistress of General Rochambeau, would not have been thought a crime nor have excluded her from the best society! Madame G----, who has nothing but her beauty to recommend her, (and no excess of that) lives with the admiral on board his vessel. She is visited by every body; and no party is thought fashionable if not graced by her presence, yet her manners are those of a poissarde and she was very lately in the lowest and most degraded situation. But she gives splendid entertainments: and when good cheer and gaiety invite, nobody enquires too minutely by whom they are offered. Clara laughs at the security St. Louis felt when he had her locked up. Yet in spite of bolts and bars love's messenger reached her. The general's letters were most impassioned, for, unaccustomed to find resistance, the difficulty his approach to Clara met added fuel to his flame. You say, that in relating public affairs, or those of Clara, I forget my own, or conceal them under this appearance of neglect. My fate is so intimately connected with that of my sister, that every thing concerning her must interest you, from the influence it has on myself; and, in truth, I have no adventures. I described in a former letter, the gallantry of the French officers, but I have not repeated the compliments they sometimes make me, and which have been offered, perhaps, to every woman in town before they reach my ear. But a civil thing I heard yesterday, had so much of originality in it that it deserves to be remembered. I was copying a beautiful drawing of the graces, when a Frenchman I detest entered the room. Approaching the table he said. What mademoiselle do you paint? I did not know that you possessed that talent. Vexed at his intrusion, I asked if he knew I possessed any talents. Certainly, he replied, every body acknowledges that you possess that of pleasing. Then looking at the picture that lay before me, he continued: The modesty of the graces would prevent their attempting to draw you. Why? I asked. Because in painting you, they would be obliged to copy themselves. With all this _bavardage_ receive my affectionate adieu! LETTER IX. _Cape Francois._ We have had some novelty here my dear friend, for general Closelle, who commands during the absence of the general in chief, has taken a new method to amuse the people, and courts popularity under the veil of religion. He gives no balls, no concerts; but he has had the church fitted up, and the fete dieu has been celebrated with great order, magnificence and solemnity. At break of day the fete was announced by the firing of cannon: at eight o'clock the procession left the church, and passed through the principal streets, which were strewn with roses; the fronts of the houses were decorated with green branches, formed into arches, intermingled with wreaths of flowers. The troops under arms were placed in double ranks on each side of the street. The procession was opened by a number of young boys dressed in white surplices, singing a hymn in honour of the day. They were followed by young girls, crowned with myrtle, bearing in their hands baskets of flowers, which they strewed on the ground as they passed along. The band of music followed, and then the priests, bearing golden censors, in which were burning the most exquisite perfumes, preceded by four negroes, carrying on their shoulders a golden temple, ornamented with precious stones, and golden angels supporting a canopy of crimson velvet, beneath which the sacred host was exposed in a brilliant sagraria. After them marched general Closelle, and all the officers of the civil and military departments. The procession was closed by a number of ladies, covered with white veils. As the temple passed along, the soldiers bent one knee to the ground; and when it returned to the church, high mass was sung, accompanied by military music. Clara and myself, attended by her everlasting beau, major B----, went all over the town, and so fatigued our poor cavalier, that he actually fell down; but he is fifty years old, and at least five hundred in constitution; he has been very handsome, has still the finest eyes in the world, is full of anecdote, and infinitely amusing. General Closelle is very handsome, tall, and elegantly formed, but not at all gallant, consequently not a favourite with the ladies; and for the same reason, a great one with the gentlemen, particularly those who are married. Since the departure of the general in chief he has put every thing on a new footing: the fortifications are repairing, and block-houses are erecting all round the town. A few days since the negroes attacked a block-house which was nearly finished. A detachment commanded by general Mayart, was instantly sent out to support the guard. As he passed under my window, I told him to hasten and gather fresh laurels. He replied, that at his return he would lay them at my feet; but, alas! he returned no more. The negroes were retreating when he arrived: a random shot struck him, and he fell dead from his horse. This young man came from France about a year ago, a simple lieutenant; he was very poor, but being powerfully protected, advanced rapidly in the army; and, what is infinitely surprising, thirty thousand dollars, and a great quantity of plate, were found in his house at his death. Madame G----, a pretty little Parisian, who was his favourite, is inconsolable. She faints when any body enters the room, and repeats his name in gentle murmurs. In the evening she languishingly reposes on a sopha placed opposite the door, and seems to invite by the gracefulness of her attitudes, and the negligence of her dress, the whole world to console her. The most distressing accounts arrive here daily from all parts of the island. The general in chief is at Port-au-Prince, but he possesses no longer the confidence of the people. He is entirely governed by his officers, who are boys, and who think only of amusement. He gives splendid balls, and elegant parties; but he neglects the army, and oppresses the inhabitants. A black chief and his wife were made prisoners last week, and sentenced to be shot. As they walked to the place of execution the chief seemed deeply impressed with the horror of his approaching fate: but his wife went cheerfully along, endeavoured to console him, and reproached his want of courage. When they arrived on the field, in which their grave was already dug, she refused to have her eyes bound; and turning to the soldiers who were to execute their sentence, said "Be expeditious, and don't make me linger." She received their fire without shrinking, and expired without uttering a groan. Since the commencement of the revolution she had been a very devil! Her husband commanded at St. Marks, and being very amorously inclined, every white lady who was unfortunate enough to attract his notice, received an order to meet him. If she refused, she was sure of being destroyed, and if she complied she was as sure of being killed by his wife's orders, which were indisputable. Jealous as a tygress, she watched all the actions of her husband; and never failed to punish the objects of his amorous approaches, often when they were entirely innocent. How terrible was the situation of these unfortunate women, insulted by the brutal passion of a negro, and certain of perishing if they resisted or if they complied. This same fury in female form killed with her own hand a white man who had been her husband's secretary. He offended her; she had him bound, and stabbed him with a penknife till he expired! How often, my dear friend, do my sighs bear my wishes to your happy country; how ardently do I desire to revisit scenes hallowed by recollection, and rendered doubly dear by the peaceful security I there enjoyed, contrasted with the dangers to which we are here exposed. Yet the Creoles still hope; for "Hope travels through, nor quits us when we die." They think it impossible that this island can ever be abandoned to the negroes. They build houses, rebuild those that were burned, and seem secure in their possession. The measures of general Closelle inspire them with confidence; and they think that if he was commander in chief, all would go well. But when general Rochambeau was second in command, he was a favorite with every body; and it is only since he has attained the summit of power that he has appeared regardless of public opinion! He is said to have the talents of a soldier, but not those of a general. Whatever may be the fate of this country, here I must wait with patience, of which mulish virtue I have no great share, till some change in its affairs restores me to my own. Yet when there, I can hope for nothing more than tranquillity. The romantic visions of happiness I once delighted to indulge in, are fading fast away before the exterminating touch of cold reality.-- The glowing hand of hope grows cold, And fancy lives not to be old. But whilst your friendship is left me life will still have a charm. LETTER X. _Cape Francois._ It is not often in the tranquillity of domestic life that the poet or the historian seek their subjects! Of this I am certain, that in the calm that now surrounds us it will be difficult for me to find one for my unpoetical pen. Clara is dull, St. Louis contented, and I pass my time heavily, complaining of the fate which brought me here, and wishing to be away. We go sometimes to the concerts given by monsieur d'Or, where madame P----, a pretty little Parisian sings; and where madame A----, accompanied by her daughter, presides with solemn dignity. This lady, who is at present a most rigid censor of female conduct, and not amiable either in person or manners, lived many years with monsieur A----, who raised her from the rank of his housekeeper, to that of his mistress. But he fell in love with another lady, whom he was going to marry. The deserted fair one threw herself in despair at the feet of Toussaint, with whom she had some influence, and so forcibly represented the injustice of the proceeding, that Toussaint ordered A---- to be confined, saying he should not be released till he consented to marry the lady he had so long lived with. A---- resisted some time, but at length yielded, and exchanged his prison for the softer one of her arms. Before the revolution there was a convent at the Cape. The nuns in general were very rich, and devoted themselves chiefly to the education of young ladies: some of their pupils, I have heard, would have done honour to a Parisian seminary. When religion was abolished in France, the rage for abolition, as well as that of revolutionizing reached this place, and the nuns were driven from the convent by Santhonax, a name which will always fill every Frenchman's breast with horror: he caused the first destruction of the Cape. On the arrival of general Galbo, who was sent to supercede him, he said, "if Galbo reigns here, he shall reign over ashes," and actually set fire to the town. The convent was not then burned; but the society was dissolved, the habit of the order laid aside; and some of the nuns, profiting by the license of the times, married. One of these became the wife of a man who, during the reign of the negroes committed crimes of the deepest die. He has not yet received the punishment due to them; but he awaits in trembling the hour of retribution. I often see her. She has been very handsome, but her charms are now in the wane; she has a great deal of vivacity, and that fluency of expression in conversing on the topics of the day, which gives to a French woman the reputation of having _beaucoup d'esprit_. I know also the lady abbess, who is an excellent woman of most engaging manners. She lives in a miserable chamber, and supports herself by her industry. The greatest part of the community have perished; and general Le Clerc found it more convenient to have the convent fitted up for his own residence, than to restore it to its owners, the government house having been entirely destroyed. There are also here two hospitals, neither of which have been injured, though the town has been twice burned. The _Hopitale de la Providence_ is an asylum for the poor, the sick and the stranger; the building is decent: but the _Hopitale des Peres de la Charite_ is superb, surrounded by gardens, ornamented with statues and fountains, and finished with all the magnificence which their vast revenues enabled its owners to command. The streets of the town cross each other at right angles, like those of Philadelphia, and there are several public squares which add greatly to the beauty of the place. In the centre of each is a fountain, from which the water, clear as crystal, flows into marble basons. The houses are commodious, particularly those of two stories, which have all balconies; but the streets are narrow, and the heat would be intolerable if it was not for the relief afforded by bathing, which is here an universal custom, and for the sea-breezes which, rising every afternoon, waft on their wings delicious coolness. The mulatto women are the hated but successful rivals of the Creole ladies. Many of them are extremely beautiful; and, being destined from their birth to a life of pleasure, they are taught to heighten the power of their charms by all the aids of art, and to express in every look and gesture all the refinements of voluptuousness. It may be said of them, that their very feet speak. In this country that unfortunate class of beings, so numerous in my own,--victims of seduction, devoted to public contempt and universal scorn, is unknown. Here a false step is very rarely made by an unmarried lady, and a married lady, who does not make one, is as rare; yet of both there have been instances: but the _faux pas_ of a married lady is so much a matter of course, that she who has only one lover, and retains him long in her chains, is considered as a model of constancy and discretion. To the destiny of the women of colour no infamy is attached; they have inspired passions which have lasted through life, and are faithful to their lovers through every vicissitude of fortune and chance. But before the revolution their splendor, their elegance, their influence over the men, and the fortunes lavished on them by their infatuated lovers, so powerfully excited the jealousy of the white ladies, that they complained to the council of the ruin their extravagance occasioned to many families, and a decree was issued imposing restrictions on their dress. No woman of colour was to wear silk, which was then universally worn, nor to appear in public without a handkerchief on her head. They determined to oppose this tyranny, and took for that purpose a singular but effectual resolution. They shut themselves up in their houses, and appeared no more in public. The merchants soon felt the bad effects of this determination, and represented so forcibly the injury the decree did to commerce, that it was reversed, and the olive beauties triumphed. But the rage of the white ladies still pursued them with redoubled fury, for what is so violent as female jealousy? The contest however was unequal, and the influence of their detested rivals could not be counteracted. Some of them were very rich. There is a friendliness and simplicity in their manners which is very interesting. They are the most caressing creatures in the world, and breathe nothing but affection and love. One of their most enviable privileges, and which they inherit from nature, is that their beauty is immortal--they never fade. The French appear to understand less than any other people the delights arising from an union of hearts. They seek only the gratification of their sensual appetites. They gather the flowers, but taste not the fruits of love. They call women the "_beau sexe_," and know them only under the enchanting form of ministers of pleasure. They may appear thus to those who have only eyes; by those who have hearts they will always be considered as sacred objects of reverence and love. A man who thinks and feels views in woman the beneficent creature who nourished him with her milk, and watched over his helpless infancy; a consoling being who soothes his pains and softens his sorrows by her tenderness and even by her levity and her sports. But here female virtue is blasted in the bud by the contagious influence of example. Every girl sighs to be married to escape from the restraint in which she is held whilst single, and to enjoy the unbounded liberty she so often sees abused by her mother. A husband is necessary to give her a place in society; but is considered of so little importance to her happiness, that in the choice of one her inclination is very seldom consulted. And when her heart, in spite of custom, feels the pain of being alone, and seeks an asylum in the bosom of her husband, she too often finds it shut against her; she is assailed by those whose only desire is to add another trophy to their conquests, and is borne away by the torrent of fashion and dissipation till all traces of her native simplicity are destroyed. She joins with unblushing front, the crowd who talk of sentiments they never feel, and who indulge in the most licentious excesses without having the glow of passion to gild their errors. These reflections were suggested by a most preposterous marriage, at which I was present. A girl of fifteen was sacrificed by her grandmother to a man of sixty, of the most disagreeable appearance and forbidding manners. The soul of this unfortunate victim is all melting softness; she is of the most extraordinary beauty; she is now given to the world, and in those who surround her she will find the destroyers of her delicacy, her simplicity, and her peace. LETTER XI. _Cape Francois._ To give you some idea of the despotism that reigns in this country, I must relate an event which, though it originated with Clara, was certainly carried farther than she either expected or desired. On our arrival here she engaged a young Frenchman to give her lessons in his language, which she spoke tolerably before, but in which she wished to acquire perfection. After he had attended her some time she perceived that his lessons were considerably lengthened and that he chose for his themes the most amorous and affectionate pieces. Some observations made on the subject, drew from him a confession of the extraordinary passion she had inspired. After laughing at his folly, she dismissed him, and thought of him no more; but shortly after was informed that he had circulated reports highly injurious to her. General Rochambeau, whose ears they had reached, asked her from whence they arose? and she related to him with great simplicity the whole affair. The general said he should be embarked, and the next morning he was actually sent on board an armed vessel which was to sail in a few days. Whilst there he wrote a pathetic and elegant little poem in which he represented himself as the victim of the general's jealousy, who thus sought to destroy him for having interfered, and not unsuccessfully, with his pursuits. This paper was sent to the man with whom he had lived, and who handed it to every body. Clara was in despair. She informed the general in chief that he had rendered the affair, which was at first only ridiculous, seriously provoking: in consequence of which the house of this man was surrounded by guards, who, without giving him time to take even a change of clothes, conducted him on board the vessel where his friend was confined; it sailed immediately for France, and his house and store, which were worth at least thirty thousand dollars became the prey of the officers of the administration: but the poem was heard of no more. LETTER XII _Cape Francois._ The general in chief has returned from Port-au-Prince. Three days after his arrival the Cape was blockaded by five British ships, and news was received of war having been declared between England and France. Every body is in the greatest consternation, for inevitable ruin threatens the place. The English will no doubt prevent all vessels from entering the port, and take all that go out; at the same time the negroes are said to be preparing another attack. The general brought in his train all the belles of Port-au-Prince, and has given a ball, at which, incredible as it may appear to you, Clara and myself appeared. When the cards of invitation were brought, St. Louis declared that they should not be left; but major B----, who was present, represented so forcibly the danger of irritating the general, who has shewn some symptoms of a disposition to tyrannize, since his return which were never remarked in him before, that he consented to our going. When we entered the room attended by B, every eye was fixed on Clara, who never was so lovely. Dressed in a robe ornamented with wreaths of flowers, she joined the sweetness of Flora to the lightness of the youngest of the graces, and the recollection of certain late events gave an air of timidity to her looks which rendered her enchanting. General Rochambeau, by the warmth of his manner encreased her confusion, and fixed on her more pointedly the attention of every beholder. He was surprized at seeing her without her husband, and enquired what had wrought so wonderful a change? She replied that he had found a very good representative in major B----, and that he had acquired a little confidence in herself. She waltzed with more than her usual grace, and the general seemed flattered by the notice she attracted. Most of the ladies from Port-au-Prince are widows "Who bear about the mockery of woe To midnight dances and the public shew." None of them are remarkable for their beauty or elegance. The only new face worth looking at was a madame V----, lately arrived from France; her hair was dressed _a la Ninon de l'Enclos_, part of it fastened on the top of the head, the rest hanging about her neck in loose curls. The ball room had been newly furnished with regal splendor; all the chairs were removed, and long sophas with large cushions offered delightful seats. A recess at one end of the room had been fitted up _a la Turc_; the walls were entirely concealed with large looking glasses, which reached the ceiling; the floor was covered with carpets and the only seats were piles of crimson sattin cushions thrown on the ground. The lustres, veiled with green silk, gave a soft light, imitating that of the moon, and the _ensemble_ breathed an air of tranquillity that invited to repose after the fatigue of dancing, and offered a retreat from the heat which it was almost impossible to resist. To this retreat general Rochambeau led Clara. A lady was lolling in one corner, and I entered at the same moment. He looked as if he wished us both away, but I never attend to looks that I am resolved not to understand. LETTER XIII. _Cape Francois._ A few days after the ball mentioned in my last, St. Louis determined to send Clara and myself to St. Jago de Cuba, and to follow us as soon as possible. This measure was opposed by major B----; but Clara insisted, and the day of our departure was fixed. The next day B---- breakfasted with us; and as soon as we were alone, told Clara that she was wrong in being so entirely governed by her husband. She replied, that she had suffered much in consequence of coquetting with general Rochambeau, in which her only intention had been to find amusement; but she was now convinced of its being highly dangerous and improper; and that it had been productive of much ill. She added, that she lived in continual inquietude, and that nothing would induce her to stay in the Cape if she could get away. B---- spoke of the passion of the general,--said he had seen him that morning, and as a proof of her having been the subject of their conversation, gave her a letter from him. Is it possible, (she exclaimed) you in whom my husband has so much confidence? You are a fool, replied B----, and your husband is no better: and if his insolence to the general has not been punished it is owing to my interference. Clara read the letter. It was filled with professions of admiration and unalterable love. He begged her not to think of leaving the Cape, which was in no danger; and further said he had taken measures to prevent her being sent away. He requested her to write to him, but this she positively refused. Towards noon a proclamation was issued ordering all the passports which had been granted during the last three months to be returned. St. Louis was in despair: he had intended sending Clara off without eclat, having procured passports before, but B---- betrayed him. Yet in B---- he has the most unbounded confidence; and suffers Clara to receive nobody else. She walks with him when she pleases, and he never fails on such occasions to give the general an opportunity of speaking to her. A few days ago we went to Picolet, to see the fort. The road to it winds along the seashore at the foot of the mountain. The rocks are covered with the Arabian jessamin, which grows here in the greatest profusion. Its flexible branches form among the cliffs moving festoons and fantastic ornaments, and its flowers whiter than snow, fill the air with intoxicating fragrance. After having visited the fort we were preparing to return, when we saw a troop of horsemen descending the mountain. They came full speed. We soon discovered they were the general and his suite; and as they followed the windings of the road, with their uniform _a la mameluc_, and their long sabres, they appeared like a horde of Arabs. The general arrived first, and jumping from his horse, told Clara that he had left the table an hour sooner than usual to have the pleasure of seeing her. Then, said she, looking reproachfully at B----, you have a familiar spirit who informs you of my movements! Why not, he replied, are you not an enchantress, and have you not employed all the powers of magic to enslave me? You are in an error said Clara; I was flattered by your admiration, and gratified by the attentions with which you honoured me; but I used no art to attract the one, and am too sensible of my own defects not to feel that I am indebted for the other entirely to your goodness. That is too modest to be natural, cried the general. Nobody who possesses your charms can be ignorant of their power; nor could any one mistake the passion I have evinced for you, for the common attention every lady receives as her due. Then you do not believe a woman can be modest? asked Clara. Modest if you please, but not insensible, he replied. And suffer me to observe,--Oh no observations, I entreat, interrupted Clara; for this interview will, I fear, occasion too many.--But tell me, how did you learn I was to be here; and why have you left the table where you so often sacrifice till a late hour to the rosy god, to wander among these rugged rocks where despairing lovers alone would seek a retreat? And are you of that number? he enquired. No, she replied: but I have not your motives for staying at home: I was led here by curiosity; It is my first visit to this spot. Then believe, said the general, that I came here to offer at your feet that homage which envious fate has hitherto deprived me of an opportunity of paying. During this conversation, he had drawn her to a point of the rock; and the officers of his suite, surrounding me, sought to divert my attention by all the common place compliments of which they are so profuse. I had forgotten Clara for a moment, when, turning, I beheld the general, who bending one knee to the ground, seized her hand passionately, and at the same time I saw St. Louis ascending the mountain. Pressing through the crowd I flew to her, saying, are you mad? Rise general, for heaven's sake! her husband approaches! what means this exhibition of folly? Yes I am mad, he replied, I adore your sister, and she refuses to listen to me. My sister is married, I answered. But, said he, she loves not her husband. At least I love no one more than him, said Clara, trembling at the idea of having been seen by St. Louis. Fortunately I had discovered him at the foot of the mountain, and the road winds round its base with so many turnings that it is of considerable length and before he arrived she was tolerably composed. You have deceived me, said the general. I never listened to you, she replied. But you have read my letters.--I could not avoid receiving, but I never answered them. Still, he observed, interrupting her, I will hope; for your eyes cannot utter falsehood, and from them I have received encouragement. At that instant St. Louis arrived; he appeared astonished at seeing Clara so surrounded, and advancing involuntarily, as if to defend her, took her arm. The general, with his usual levity, told St. Louis, that he came in time to prevent him from running away with his wife. Then twining round her arm a wreath of jessamin he had taken from my hand, said, with such fetters only you should be bound! Does she find those that bind her too heavy? asked her husband. No, replied the general, she seems content. Then casting a look of disappointment at Clara, he mounted his horse and rode off. Major B---- engaged St. Louis in a conversation on the situation of the colony, which made him forget the dangerous one in which he had found his wife. Clara, leaning on my arm, seemed oppressed by a variety of sensations, among which indignation predominated. The security and presumption of the general shocked her, and the recollection of having, at least negatively encouraged him, gave an additional pang to her heart. We returned slowly home. Our meeting with general Rochambeau was thought accidental by St. Louis, and was taken no notice of. LETTER XIV. _Cape Francois._ Ah, my dear friend, where shall I find expressions to convey to you an idea of the horror that fills my soul; how describe scenes at which I tremble even now with terror? Three negroes were caught setting fire to a plantation near the town. They were sentenced to be burnt alive; and the sentence was actually executed. When they were tied to the stake and the fire kindled, one of them, I understand, held his head over the smoke and was suffocated immediately. The second made horrible contortions, and howled dreadfully. The third, looking at him contemptuously said, Peace! do you not know how to die? and preserved an unalterable firmness till the devouring flames consumed him. This cruel act has been blamed by every body, as giving a bad example to the negroes, who will not fail to retaliate on the first prisoners they take. But it has been succeeded by a deed which has absolutely chilled the hearts of the people. Every one trembles for his own safety, and silent horror reigns throughout the place. A young Creole, who united to the greatest elegance of person the most polished manners and the most undaunted courage, had incurred, I know not how, the displeasure of general Rochambeau, and had received a hint of approaching danger, but neither knew what he had to fear, nor how to avoid it, when he received an order to pay into the treasury, before three o'clock, twenty thousand dollars on pain of death. This was at ten in the morning. He thought at first it was a jest; but when assured that the order was serious, said he would rather die than submit to such injustice, and was conducted by a guard to prison. Some of his friends went to the government-house to intercede for him. Nobody was admitted. His brother exerted himself to raise the sum required; but though their house has a great deal of property, and government is indebted to them more than a hundred thousand dollars, it was difficult, from the scarcity of cash, to raise so large a sum in so short a time, and nobody thought there was any danger to be apprehended. At half after two o'clock he was taken to the fosset, where his grave was already dug. The captain of the guard sent to know if there was no reprieve: and was told that there was none. He sent again, the same answer was returned, with an order to perform his duty, or his life would be the forfeit of his disobedience. He was a Creole, the friend, the companion of the unfortunate Feydon. Ah! how could he submit to be the vile instrument of tyranny? how could he sacrifice his friend? Why did he not resign his commission on the spot, and abide by the consequence? Approaching Feydon, he offered to bind his eyes; but he refused, saying, No, let me witness your horrors to the last moment. He was placed on the brink of his grave. They fired: he fell! but from the bottom of his grave cried, I am not dead--finish me! My heart bleeds: I knew him; and while I live, the impression this dreadful event has made on me will never be effaced. At the moment he was killed his brother, having collected the required sum, carried it to the general, who took the money, and sent the young man, who was frantic when he heard of his brother's fate, to prison. It is said a reprieve had been granted, but had been suppressed by Nero the commandant de la place, who is as cruel, and as much detested as was the tyrant whose name he bears. A few days after, nine of the principal merchants were selected. One hundred thousand dollars was the sum demanded from them; and they were imprisoned till it should be found. It was then the virtuous Leaumont approached, fearless of consequences, the retreat of the tyrant, and obliged him to listen to the voice of truth. He represented the impossibility of finding the sum demanded from these unfortunate men, and entreated to have a tax laid on every individual of the place in proportion to his property, which, after much debate was consented to. The money was soon furnished, and the prisoners released. Since the death of Feydon the general appears no more in public. A settled gloom pervades the place, and every one trembles lest he should be the next victim of a monster from whose power there is no retreat. St. Louis, above all, is in the greatest danger, for he has the reputation of being rich, and, having excited the aversion of general Rochambeau, it is not probable that he will escape without some proof of his animosity. Clara is in the greatest dejection. She repents bitterly the levity of her conduct, and is torn with anxiety for the fate of her husband. She loves him not, it is true, but would be in despair if through her fault the least evil befel him, and feels for the first time the danger of awakening the passions of those who are capable of sacrificing all considerations to gratify their wishes or revenge their disappointment. She requested the general to give her a passport for St. Jago de Cuba. He replied that he could only grant them to the old and ugly, and she, not being of this description, he was obliged to refuse her; however, after much solicitation, she obtained one for herself for me and her servants, and we shall sail in a few days. All the women are suffered to depart, but no man can procure a passport. Some it is true, find means to escape in disguise, and they are fortunate, for it is much feared that those who remain will be sacrificed. Every vessel that sails from hence is seized and plundered by the English; but, as we are Americans, perhaps we may pass. Our intention is to stay at St. Jago till St. Louis joins us. God knows whether we shall ever see him again. With what joy I shall leave this land of oppression! how much that joy would be increased if I was going to the continent; but in all places, and in all countries I shall be affectionately yours, LETTER XV. _Barracoa._ You will no doubt be surprised at receiving a letter from hence, but here we are my dear friend, deprived of every thing we possessed, in a strange country, of whose language we are ignorant, and where, even with money, it would be impossible to procure what we have been accustomed to consider as the necessaries of life. Yet here we have found an asylum, and met with sympathy; not that of words, but active and effectual sympathy, from strangers, which, perhaps, we should have sought in vain in our own country, and among our own people. We embarked at the Cape, Clara, myself and six servants, in a small schooner, which was full of women, and bound to St. Jago. As soon as we were out of the harbour a boat from a British frigate boarded us, condemned the vessel as French property, and, without further ceremony, sent the passengers on board another vessel which was lying near us, and was going to Barracoa, where we arrived in three days, after having suffered much from want of provisions and water. Every thing belonging to us had been left in the schooner the English made a prize of. St. Louis, having forseen the probability of this event, had made Clara conceal fifty doubloons in her corset. On our arrival at Barracoa, a Frenchman we had known at the Cape came on board. He conducted us ashore, and procured us a room in a miserable hut, where we passed the night on a board laid on the ground, it being impossible to procure a mattrass. The next morning the first consideration was clothes. There was not a pair of shoes to be found in the place, nor any thing which we would have thought of employing for our use if we had not been obliged by the pressure of necessity. Clara had given a corner of our hut to a lady who, with two children, was without a shilling. While we were at breakfast, which we made of chocolate, served in little calabashes, lent us by the people of the house, a priest of most benign aspect entered, and addressing Clara in French, which he speaks fluently, told her that having heard of our arrival and misfortunes, he had come to offer his services, and enquired how we had passed the night? Clara shewed him the boards on which we had slept. He rose instantly, and calling the mistress of the house, spoke to her angrily. I afterwards learned that he reproached her for not having informed him of our distress as soon as we arrived. He took his leave and returned in half an hour with three or four negroes who brought mattrasses, and baskets filled with fowls, and every kind of fruit the island produces. Then, telling Clara that his sister would call on her in the evening, and begging her to consider him as her servant, and every thing he possessed at her disposal, he went away. In the afternoon he returned with his sister. She is a widow. Her manners are interesting, but she speaks no language except her own, of which not one of us understood a word. Father Philip sent for the only shopkeeper in the place, who furnished us with black silk for dresses, and some miserable linen. By the next day we were decently equipped. We were then presented to the governor, whose wife is divinely beautiful. Nothing can equal the lustre of her eyes, or surpass the fascinating power of her graceful and enchanting manners. The changes of her charming countenance express every emotion of her soul, and she seems not to require the aid of words to be understood. She conceived at once a fervent friendship for Clara, and having learned our misfortunes from father Philip, insisted on our living in her house whilst we remained at Barracoa. This point was disputed by Donna Angelica, who said she had provided a chamber for us in her own. But madame la Governadora was not to be thwarted; she seized Clara by the arm, and drawing her playfully into another room, insisted on dressing her _a la Espagnole_, which is nothing more than a cambric _chemise_, cut very low in the bosom, an under petticoat of linen, made very stiff with starch, and a muslin one over it, both very short. To this is added, when they go out, a large black silk veil, which covers the head and falls below the waist. By this dress the beauty of the bosom, which is so carefully preserved by the French is lost. Clara looked very well in this costume, but felt uncomfortable. As Donna Jacinta would not hear of our leaving her we consented to stay; and a chamber was prepared for us. In the evening we walked through the town, and were surprised to see such extreme want in this abode of hospitality. The houses are built of twigs, interwoven like basket work, and slightly thatched with the leaves of the palm tree, with no other floor than the earth. The inhabitants sit on the ground, and eat altogether out of the pot in which their food is prepared. Their bed is formed of a dried hide, and they have no clothes but what they wear, nor ever think of procuring any till these are in rags. There are only three decent houses in the place, which belong to the governor, to father Philip, and his sister; yet these good people are happy, for they are contented. Their poverty is not rendered hideous by the contrast of insolent pride or unfeeling luxury. They dose away their lives in a peaceful obscurity, which if I do not envy, I cannot despise. There are many French families here from St. Domingo; some almost without resource; and this place offers none for talents of any kind. It is not uncommon to hear the sound of a harp or piano from beneath a straw built shed, or to be arrested by a celestial voice issuing from a hut which would be supposed uninhabitable. Clara studies with so much application the Spanish language that she can already hold with tolerable ease a conversation, especially with the seignora Jacinta, whose eyes are so eloquent that it would be impossible not to understand her. She is a native of the Havanna, was married very young, and her husband having been appointed governor of Barracoa, was obliged to leave the gaiety and splendour of her native place for this deserted spot, where fashion, taste or elegance had never been known. It has been a little enlivened since the misfortunes of the French have forced them to seek in it a retreat. Jacinta has too much sensibility not to regret the change of situation; but she never repines, and seeks to diffuse around her the cheerfulness by which she is animated. From early prejudice she loves not the French character. Fortunately Clara is an American; and the influence of her enchanting qualities on the heart of her fair friend is strengthened by the charm of novelty. We are waiting for a vessel to carry us to St. Jago, and its arrival, I assure you will fill us with regret. LETTER XVI. _St. Jago de Cuba._ We have left Barracoa, the good father Philip, his generous sister, and the beautiful Jacinta. Removed from them for ever, the recollection of their goodness will accompany me through life, and a sigh for the peaceful solitude of their retreat will often heave my breast amid the mingled scenes of pleasure and vexation in which I shall be again engaged. Fortunate people! who, instead of rambling about the world, end their lives beneath the roofs where they first drew breath. Fortunate in knowing nothing beyond their horizon; for whom even the next town is a strange country, and who find their happiness in contributing to that of those who surround them! The wife of the governor could not separate herself from us. Taking from her neck a rosary of pearls, she put it round that of Clara, pressed her in her arms, wept on her bosom, and said she never passed a moment so painful. She is young, her soul is all tenderness and ardour, and Clara has filled her breast with feelings to which till now she has been a stranger. Her husband is a good man, but without energy or vivacity, the direct reverse of his charming wife. She can never have awakened an attachment more lively than the calmest friendship. She has no children, nor any being around her, whose soul is in unison with her own. With what devotion she would love! but if a stranger to the exquisite pleasures of that sentiment she is also ignorant of its pains! may no destructive passion ever trouble her repose. She walked with us to the shore and waited on the beach till we embarked. She shrieked with agony when she clasped Clara for the last time to her breast, and leaning against a tree, gave unrestrained course to her tears. The good father Philip accompanied us to the vessel, and staid till the moment of our departure. He had previously sent aboard every thing that he thought would be agreeable to us during the voyage. His friendly soul poured itself forth in wishes for our happiness. May all the blessings of heaven be showered on his head! It is Clara's fate to inspire great passions. Nobody loves her moderately. As soon as she is known she seizes on the soul, and centres every desire in that of pleasing her. The friendship she felt for Jacinta, and the impression father Philip's goodness made on her, rendered her insensible to all around her. The vessel was full of passengers, most of them ladies, who were astonished at beholding such grief. One of them, a native of Jeremie, was the first who attracted the attention of Clara. This lady, who is very handsome, and very young, has three children of the greatest beauty, for whom she has the most impassioned fondness, and seems to view in them her own protracted existence. She has all the bloom of youth, and when surrounded by her children, no picture of Venus with the loves and graces was ever half so interesting. She is going to join her husband at St. Jago, who I hear, is a great libertine, and not sensible of her worth. An air of sadness dwells on her lovely countenance, occasioned, no doubt, by his neglect and the pain of finding a rival in every woman he meets. There is also on board a beautiful widow whose husband was killed by the negroes, and who, without fortune or protection, is going to seek at St. Jago a subsistence, by employing her talents. There is something inconceivably interesting in these ladies. Young, beautiful, and destitute of all resource, supporting with cheerfulness their wayward fortune. But the most captivating trait in their character is their fondness for their children! The Creole ladies, marrying very young, appear more like the sisters than the mothers of their daughters. Unfortunately they grow up too soon, and not unfrequently become the rivals of their mothers. We are still on board, at the entrance of the harbour of St. Jago, which is guarded by a fort, the most picturesque object I ever saw. It is built on a rock that hangs over the sea, and the palm trees which wave their lofty heads over its ramparts, add to its beauty. We are obliged to wait here till to-morrow; for this day being the festival of a saint, all the offices are shut. No business is transacted, and no vessel can approach the town without permission. This delay is painful; I am on the wing to leave the vessel, though it is only four days since we left Barracoa.--I wish to know whether we shall meet as much hospitality here as in that solitary place. Yet why should I expect it? Hearts like those of father Philip and the lovely Jacinta do not abound.--How many are there who, never having witnessed such goodness, doubt its existence? We have letters to several families here, from the governor of Barracoa and father Philip, and St. Louis has friends who have been long established at this place. Therefore, on arriving, we shall feel at home; perhaps too, we may find letters from the Cape;--God grant they may contain satisfactory intelligence. LETTER XVII. _St. Jago de Cuba._ A month has passed, since our arrival in this place, in such a round of visits and such a variety of amusements, that I am afraid, my dear friend, you will think I have forgotten you. We were received by the gentleman, to whom Clara was directed, with the most cordial friendship. He is an ancient Chevalier de St. Louis, and retains, with much of the formality of the court of France, at which he was raised, all its elegance and urbanity; and having lived a number of years in this island, he is loved and respected by all its inhabitants. The letters which father Philip and the governor of Barracoa gave us to their friends, have procured us great attention. The people here are much the same as at Barracoa; perhaps they are a little more civilized. There is some wealth, with much poverty. The women have made great progress towards improvement since such numbers of French have arrived from St. Domingo.--They are at least a century before the men in refinement, but women are every where more susceptible of polish than the lords of the creation. Those of this town are not generally remarkable for their beauty. There are some, however, who would be admired even in Philadelphia, particularly the wife of the governor; but they are all remarkable for the smallness of their feet, and they dress their hair with a degree of taste in which they could not be excelled by the ladies of Paris. We arrived in the season of gaiety, and have been at several balls; but their balls please me not!--Every body in the room dances a minuet, which you may suppose is tedious enough; then follow the country dances, which resemble the English, except that they are more complicated and more fatiguing. There are in this town eleven churches, all of them splendid, and the number of priests is incredible! Many of them may be ranked among the most worthless members of the community. It is not at all uncommon to see them drunk in the street, or to hear of their having committed the most shocking excesses. Some, however, are excellent men, who do honour to their order and to human nature. But the thickest veil of superstition covers the land, and it is rendered more impervious by the clouds of ignorance in which the people are enveloped! Clara, who speaks the language with the facility of a native, asked some of her Spanish friends for books, but there was not one to be found in the place. She complained some days ago of a head-ache, and a Spanish lady gave her a ribbon, which had been bound round the head of an image of the Virgin, telling her it was a sovereign remedy for all pains of the head. The bishop is a very young man and very handsome. We see him often at church, where we go, attracted by the music. But one abominable custom observed there, destroys our pleasure. The women kneel on carpets, spread on the ground, and when they are fatigued, cross their legs, and sit Turkish fashion; whilst the men loll at their ease on sofas. From whence this subversion of the general order? Why are the women placed in the churches at the feet of their slaves? The lower classes of the people are the greatest thieves in the world, and they steal with so much dexterity, that it is quite a science. The windows are not glazed, but secured by wooden bars, placed very close together. The Spaniards introduce between these bars long poles, which have at one end a hook of iron, and thus steal every thing in the room, even the sheets off the beds. The friars excel in this practice, and conceal their booty in their large sleeves! In the best houses and most wealthy families there is a contrast of splendour and poverty which is shocking. Their beds and furniture are covered with a profusion of gilding and clumsy ornaments, while the slaves, who serve in the family, and even those who are about the persons of the ladies, are in rags and filthy to the most disgusting degree! How different were the customs of St. Domingo! The slaves, who served in the houses, were dressed with the most scrupulous neatness, and nothing ever met the eye that could occasion an unpleasant idea. The Spanish women are sprightly, and devoted to intrigue. Their assignations are usually made at church. The processions at night, and the masses celebrated before daylight, are very favourable to the completion of their wishes, to which also their dress is well adapted. They wear a black silk petticoat; their head is covered with a veil of the same colour, that falls below the waist; and, this costume being universal, and never changed, it is difficult to distinguish one woman from another. A man may pass his own wife in the street without knowing her. Their attachments are merely sensual. They are equally strangers to the delicacy of affection or that refinement of passion which can make any sacrifice the happiness of its object may require. To the licentiousness of the people, more than to their extreme poverty, may be attributed the number of children which are continually exposed to perish in the street. Almost every morning, at the door of one of the churches, and often at more than one, a new-born infant is found. There is an hospital, where they are received, but those who find them, are (if so disposed,) at liberty to keep them. The unfortunate little beings who happen to fall into the hands of the lower classes of the people, increase, during their childhood, the throng of beggars, and augment, as they grow up, the number of thieves. The heart recoils at the barbarity of a mother who can thus abandon her child; but the custom, here, as in China, is sanctioned by habit, and excites no horror! LETTER XVIII. _St. Jago de Cuba._ We have received no news from the Cape, my dear friend, but it is generally expected that it will be evacuated, as several parts of the island have been already. This place is full of the inhabitants of that unfortunate country, and the story of every family would offer an interesting and pathetic subject to the pen of the novelist. All have been enveloped in the same terrible fate, but with different circumstances; all have suffered, but the sufferings of each individual derive their hue from the disposition of his mind. One catastrophe, which I witnessed, is dreadfully impressive! I saw youth, beauty and affection sink to an untimely grave, without having the power of softening the bitterness of their fate. Madame C----, a native of Jeremie, had been sent by her husband to Philadelphia, at the beginning of the revolution, where she continued several years, devoting all her time to improving the mind and cultivating the talents of her only child, the beautiful Clarissa. Sometime after the arrival of the French fleet, Madame C----, and her daughter returned to Jeremie. She had still all the charms of beauty, all the bloom of youth. She was received by her husband with a want of tenderness which chilled her heart, and she soon learned that he was attached to a woman of colour on whom he lavished all his property. This, you may suppose, was a source of mortification to Madame C----, but she suffered in silence, and sought consolation in the bosom of her daughter. When the troubles of Jeremie encreased, and it was expected every day that it would be evacuated, Monsieur C---- resolved to remove to St. Jago de Cuba. He sent his wife and child in one vessel, and embarked with his mistress in another. Arriving nearly at the same time, he took a house in the country, to which he retired with his superannuated favourite, leaving his family in town, and in such distress that they were often in want of bread. Madame C----, too delicate to expose the conduct of her husband, or to complain, concealed from her friends her wants and her grief. A young Frenchman was deeply in love with her daughter, but his fortune had been lost in the general wreck, and he had nothing to offer to the object of his adoration except a heart glowing with tenderness. He made Madame C---- the confidant of his affection. She was sensible of his worth, and would willingly have made him the protector of her daughter, had she not been struggling herself with all the horrors of poverty and therefore thought it wrong to encourage his passion. He addressed himself to her father, and this father was rich! He lavished on his mistress all the comforts and elegancies of life, yet refused to his family the scantiest pittance! He replied to the proposal that his daughter might marry, but that it was impossible for him to give her a shilling. Clarissa heard the unfeeling sentence with calm despair. She had just reached the age in which the affections of the heart develope themselves. The beauty of her form was unequalled, and innocence, candour, modesty, generosity, and heroism, were expressed with ineffable grace in every attitude and every feature. Clarissa was adored. Her lover was idolatrous. The woods, the dawning day, the starry heavens, witnessed their mutual vows. The grass pressed by her feet, the air she respired, the shade in which she reposed, were consecrated by her presence. Her mother marked, with pity, the progress of their mutual passion, which she could not forbid, for her own heart was formed for tenderness, nor could she sanction it, seeing no probability of its being crowned with success. But the happiness of her daughter was her only wish, and moved by her tears, her sighs, and the ardent prayers of her lover, she at length consented to their union. They were married and they were happy. But alas! a few days after their marriage a fever seized Clarissa. The distracted husband flew to her father who refused to send her the least assistance. She languished, and her mother and her husband hung over her in all the bitterness of anguish. The impossibility of paying a physician prevented their calling one, till it was too late, and, ten days after she had become a wife, she expired. I have held this disconsolate mother to my breast, my tears have mingled with hers: all the ties that bound her to the world are severed, and she wishes only for the moment that will put a period to her existence, when she fondly hopes she may be again united to her daughter. To the husband I have never uttered a word. His sorrow is deep and gloomy. He avoids all conversation, and an attempt to console him would be an insult on the sacredness of his grief. He has tasted celestial joys. He has lost the object of his love, and henceforth the earth is for him a desert. For the brutal father there is no punishment. His conscience itself inflicts none, for he expressed not the least regret when informed of the fate of his daughter. But when the story became known, the detestation his conduct excited was so violent, that the friends of Madame C---- have caused her to be separated from him, and obliged him to allow her a separate maintenance. Unfortunately their interest has been exerted too late. A few weeks sooner it might have saved her daughter. How terrible is the fate of a woman thus dependent on a man who has lost all sense of justice, reason, or humanity; who, regardless of his duties, or the respect he owes society, leaves his wife to contend with all the pains of want, and sees his child sink to an untimely grave, without stretching forth a hand to assist the one or save the other! LETTER XIX. _St. Jago de Cuba._ I write continually, my dear friend, though the fate of my letters is very uncertain. If they arrive safe they will prove that I have not forgotten you, and that I suffer no opportunity to pass without informing you that I exist. I understand that, after our departure from the Cape, the tyranny of the general in chief encreased, and that the inhabitants were daily exposed to new vexations. St. Louis, in particular, was the distinguished object of his hatred. Eternally on guard at the most dangerous posts, it was finally whispered that something, more decidedly bad, was intended him, and he thought it was time to try to escape from the threatening danger. Being informed of a vessel, that was on the point of sailing, he prevailed on a fisherman to put him outside of the fort in his boat, and wait till it came out, the captain not daring to take him on board in the harbour. On the day appointed, St. Louis, disguised as a fisherman, went into the boat, and, working at the oar, they were soon beyond the fort. The vessel approached shortly after, and St. Louis, embarking, thought himself out of danger. As soon as they were in reach of the English ships they were boarded, plundered and sent to Barracoa. St. Louis had no trunk, nor any clothes but what were on him, in which however was concealed gold to a great amount. A gentleman, who left the Cape the day after him, informed us of his escape, and of his having been sent to Barracoa, and also that, as soon as the general had heard of his departure, he had sent three barges after the vessel with orders to seize him, take him back, and, as soon as he was landed, shoot him without further ceremony. The whole town was in the greatest consternation. The barges were well manned and gained on the vessel, but a light wind springing up put it soon beyond their reach, and it was even believed that the officer, who commanded the barges, did not use all possible diligence to overtake them. We were rejoiced to hear of the fortunate escape of St. Louis but felt some anxiety at his not arriving, when lo! he appeared and gave us himself an account of his adventures. He is in raptures with the governor of Barracoa, his charming wife and the good father Philip, who, hearing that he was the husband of Clara, shewed him the most friendly attention. He brought us from them letters glowing with affectionate recollection. He talks of buying a plantation and of settling here. If he does I shall endeavour to return to the continent, but poor Clara! she weeps when I speak of leaving her, and when I consider the loneliness to which she will be condemned without me, I have almost heroism enough to sacrifice my happiness to her comfort. Before the arrival of St. Louis we lived in the house of the gentleman to whose care he had recommended us. He is a widower, the most cheerful creature in the world, but he lives in the times that are past; all his stories are at least forty years old. He talks continually of the mystification of Beaumarchais, and of the magic of Cagliostro. He told me, with all the solemnity of truth, that a lady at the court of France, who was past fifty, bought from Cagliostro, at a great price, a liquid, a single drop of which would take off, in appearance, ten years of age. The lady swallowed two drops, and went to the opera with her charms renewed, and her bloom restored to the freshness of thirty.--At her return she called her waiting woman, who had been her nurse and was at least seventy. She was nowhere to be found, but a little girl came skipping in. The lady, enquiring who she was, learned that old Ursula, intending to try the effect of the drops, had taken too large a dose, and was skipping about with all the sprightliness of fifteen. Nothing enrages the old gentleman so much as to doubt the truth of what he relates, or even to question its probability. He assured me that he knew the lady, and that he witnessed the effect of the drops on herself and the chambermaid. As I can discover no purpose the invention of such a tale would answer, I listen without reply, and almost suffer myself to be persuaded of its reality. Nothing can equal the unpleasantness of this town: it is built on the declivity of a hill; the streets are not paved; and the soil, being of white clay, the reflection is intolerable, and the heat insupportable. The water is brought on mules, from a river three miles off, and is a very expensive article. The women never walk, except to church, but every evening they take the air in an open cabriolet, drawn by mules, in which they exhibit their finery, and, not unfrequently, regale themselves with a segar. Every body smokes, at all times, and in all places; and from this villanous custom arises perhaps, the badness of their teeth, which is universal. The American consul, who has lived here many years, says that the people are much improved since he resided among them. At his arrival there was not a gown in the place. They are now generally worn. This old consul is the greatest beau in the place. He gives agreeable parties, and makes love to every body, but I believe with little success. His very appearance would put all the loves to flight. LETTER XX. _St. Jago de Cuba._ The French emigrants begin to seek in their talents some resource from the frightful poverty to which they are reduced, but meet with very little encouragement. The people here are generally poor, and unaccustomed to expensive pleasures. A company of comedians are building a theatre; and some subscription balls have been given, at which the Spanish ladies were quite eclipsed by the French belles, notwithstanding their losses. Madame D----, of Jeremie, who plays and sings divinely, gave a concert, which was very brilliant. The French women are certainly charming creatures in society. The cheerfulness with which they bear misfortune, and the industry they employ to procure themselves a subsistence, cannot be sufficiently admired. I know ladies who from their infancy were surrounded by slaves, anticipating their slightest wishes, now working from the dawn of day till midnight to support themselves and their families. Nor do they even complain, nor vaunt their industry, nor think it surprising that they possess it. Their neatness is worthy of admiration, and their taste gives to their attire an air of fashion which the expensive, but ill-chosen, ornaments of the Spanish ladies cannot attain. With one young lady I am particularly acquainted whose goodness cannot be sufficiently admired. Ah! Eliza, how shall I describe thy sweetness, thy fidelity, thy devotion to a suffering friend. Why am I not rich that I could place thee in a situation where thy virtues might be known, thy talents honoured. Alas! I never so deeply regret my own want of power as when reflecting that I am unable to be useful to you. This amiable girl was left by her parents, who went to Charleston at the beginning of the revolution, to the care of an aunt, who was very rich, and without children. At the evacuation of Port-au-Prince, that lady embarked for this place. Her husband died on the passage; and they were robbed of every thing they possessed by an English privateer. The father of Eliza wrote for them to join him in Carolina; but the ill health of madame L---- would not suffer her to undertake the voyage, and Eliza will not hear of leaving her, but works day and night to procure for her aunt the comforts her situation requires. She is young, beautiful and accomplished. She wastes her bloom over the midnight lamp, and sacrifices her health and her rest to soothe the sufferings of her infirm relation. Her patience and mildness are angelic. Where will such virtues meet their reward? Certainly not in this country; and she is held here by the ties of gratitude and affection which, to a heart like hers, are indissoluble. In the misfortunes of my French friends, I see clearly exemplified the advantages of a good education. Every talent, even if possessed in a slight degree of perfection, may be a resource in a reverse of fortune; and, though I liked not entirely their manner, whilst surrounded by the festivity and splendour of the Cape, I now confess that they excite my warmest admiration. They bear adversity with cheerfulness, and resist it with fortitude. In the same circumstances I fear I should be inferior to them in both. But in this country, slowly emerging from a state of barbarism, what encouragement can be found for industry or talents? The right of commerce was purchased by the Catalonians, who alone exercise it, and agriculture is destroyed in consequence of the restraints imposed on it by the government. The people are poor, and therefore cannot possess talents whose acquisition is beyond their reach; but they are temperate, even to a proverb, and so hospitable that the poorest among them always find something to offer to a stranger. At the same time they are said to be false, treacherous, and revengeful, to the highest degree. Certainly there are here no traces of that magnanimous spirit, which once animated the Spanish cavalier, who was considered by the whole world as a model of constancy, tenderness and heroism. They feel for the distressed, because they are poor; and are hospitable because they know want. In every other respect this is a degenerate race, possessing none of the qualities of the Spaniards of old except jealousy, which is often the cause of tragical events. A young gentleman of this place fell in love with a beautiful girl who rejected him because she was secretly attached to another. Her lover was absent; and she feared to avow her passion lest his rival might use some means to destroy him, for she knew he was cruel and vindictive; but her lover returning, she declared her attachment, and declined receiving the visits of him who had pretended to her hand. A few evenings previous to that fixed on for her marriage, she was returning from church with her mother, when at the door of her house a man, wrapped in a large cloak, seized her arm, and plunging a dagger in her breast, fled, leaving her lifeless on the ground. The cries of her affrighted mother brought people to her assistance, but the blow was directed by a secure hand; she breathed no more. Every body was convinced that the perpetrator of this abominable act was her rejected lover; but, as no proofs existed, the law could not interfere. Shortly after he was found dead in the street; and probably it was the hand of him he had driven to despair, that inflicted the punishment due to his crime. Nothing is more common than such events. They excite little attention, and are seldom enquired into. How different is this from the peaceful security of the country in which I first drew breath, and to which I so ardently, but I fear hopelessly, desire to return. LETTER XXI. _St. Jago de Cuba._ General Rochambeau, after having made a shameful capitulation with the negroes, has evacuated the Cape. He presented his superb horses to Dessalines, and then embarked with his suite, and all the inhabitants who chose to follow him, intending to fight his way through the British ships. They were, however, soon overpowered and taken. The English admiral would not admit the general in chief into his presence. He has been sent to Jamaica, from whence he will be transported to England. Many of the inhabitants of the Cape have arrived here, after having lost every thing they possessed. Numbers have remained. After the articles of capitulation were signed three days were allowed for the evacuation, during which the negroes entered the town, and were so civil and treated the inhabitants with so much kindness and respect, that many who had embarked their effects, allured by the prospect of making a fortune rapidly, paid great sums to have them relanded, supposing they would be protected as they had been in the time of Toussaint. But in less than a week they found that they had flattered themselves with false hopes. A proclamation was issued by Dessalines, in which every white man was declared an enemy of the _indigenes_, as they call themselves, and their colour alone deemed sufficient to make them hated and to devote them to destruction. The author of this eloquent production, a white man, became himself the first sacrifice. The destined victims were assembled in a public square, where they were slaughtered by the negroes with the most unexampled cruelty. One brave man, who had often distinguished himself in the defence of the Cape, and who had been weak enough to stay in it, seized with desperate fury the sword of one of the negroes, and killing several, at length fell, overpowered by numbers. A few were preserved from this day's massacre by their slaves. Some were concealed by the American merchants, though it was very dangerous to venture on such benevolent actions. One vessel was searched, and several inhabitants being found on board, they were taken and hanged. The mate of the vessel, though an American, shared their fate. The captain saved himself by declaring that he was ignorant of their being on board. Major B----, whom I have so often mentioned, had also the folly to stay. One of his slaves concealed him on the day of the massacre, and, shut up in a hogshead, he was put on board an American vessel. After many perilous adventures he has arrived here, and relates scenes which cannot be thought of without horror. The women have not yet been killed; but they are exposed to every kind of insult, are driven from their houses, imprisoned, sent to work on the public roads; in fine, nothing can be imagined more dreadful than their situation. Two amiable girls, whom I knew, hung to the neck of their father when the negroes seized him. They wept and entreated these monsters to spare him; but he was torn rudely from their arms. The youngest, attempting to follow him, received a blow on the head with a musquet which laid her lifeless on the ground. The eldest, frantic with terror, clung to her father, when a ruthless negro pierced her with his bayonet, and she fell dead at his feet. The hapless father gave thanks to God that his unfortunate children had perished before him, and had not been exposed to lingering suffering's and a more dreadful fate. Some ladies have found protectors in the American merchants, who conceal them in their stores. Some have been saved by the British officers; but the greatest number have been driven into the streets, and many are forced to carry on their heads baskets of cannon balls from the arsenal to the fosset, a distance of at least three miles. I enquired after a most accomplished and exemplary woman, who with three beautiful daughters remained at the Cape after the evacuation, and I have wept at the story of their sufferings till I am unable to relate them. What could have induced these infatuated people to confide in the promises of the negroes? Yet to what will not people submit to avoid the horrors of poverty, or allured by the hope of making a rapid fortune. During the reign of Toussaint the white inhabitants had been generally respected, and many of them, engaging in commerce, had accumulated money which they sent to the United States, where they are now living at their ease. Even at the arrival of the French fleet, the lives of the people, except in a few solitary instances, had been spared. These considerations had without doubt great weight, but alas! how soon were their hopes blasted, and how dearly have they paid for their credulity. Yet even these monsters, thirsting after blood, and unsated with carnage, preserved from among the devoted victims those whose talents could be useful to themselves. A printer and several artists have been suffered to live, but are closely guarded, and warned that their lives will be the forfeit of the first attempt to escape. With the sword suspended over their heads they still cherish perhaps a secret hope of eluding the vigilance of their savage masters. LETTER XXII. _St. Jago de Cuba._ Madame G----, a native of the Gonaives, having lost her husband at the beginning of the revolution, left St. Domingo, and sought a retreat from the horrors that ravaged that devoted island in the peaceful obscurity of Barracoa. Three infant daughters cheered her solitude; and she found in cultivating their minds a never failing source of delight. Some faithful slaves who had followed her, supplied by their industry her wants. The beauty of her person, the elegance of her manners and the propriety of her conduct, rendered her the admiration of all who beheld her, whilst her benevolence, which shared with the poor the scanty pittance she possessed, made her the idol of those whose wants she relieved. Thus she lived, contented, if not happy, till the arrival of the French army at St. Domingo recalled its inhabitants to their deserted homes. Madame G----, lured by the hope of reinstating her children in their paternal inheritance, left Barracoa, followed by the blessings and regret of all to whom she was known. On arriving at the Cape she found a heap of ashes, and shuddered with horror at the dreary aspect of her native country. But she viewed her children, recollected that on her exertions they depended, and determined to sacrifice every thought of comfort to their advancement. Some houses she owned in the Cape, upon being rebuilt, promised to yield her a handsome revenue; and she passed in anxious expectation the time during which the army kept possession of the Cape. At length the moment of the evacuation arrived, and the wretched Creoles were again reduced to the dreadful alternative of perishing with want in foreign countries, or of becoming victims to the rage of the exasperated negroes in their own. Whilst Madame G---- hesitated, she received a letter from one of the black chiefs, who had been a slave to her mother. He advised her not to think of leaving the country; assured her that it was the intention of Dessalines to protect all the white inhabitants who put confidence in him, and that herself and her children would be particularly respected. The dread of poverty in a strange country with three girls, the eldest of whom was only fifteen, induced her to stay. Many others, with less reason to expect protection, followed her example. When the time allowed for the evacuation had expired, the negroes entered as masters. During the first days reigned a deceitful calm which was followed by a dreadful storm. The proclamation of Dessalines, mentioned in my last letter was published. Armed negroes entered the houses and drove the inhabitants into the streets. The men were led to prison, the women were loaded with chains. The unfortunate madame G----, chained to her eldest daughter, and the two youngest chained together, thus toiled, exposed to the sun, from earliest dawn to setting day, followed by negroes who, on the least appearance of faintness, drove them forward with whips. A fortnight later the general massacre took place, but the four hopeless beings of whom I particularly write, were not led to the field of slaughter. They were kept closely guarded, without knowing for what fate they were reserved, expecting every moment to hear their final sentence. They were sitting one day in mournful silence, when the door of their prison opened, and the chief, whose letter had induced them to stay, appeared. He saluted madame G---- with great familiarity, told her it was to his orders she owed her life, and said he would continue his friendship and protection if she would give him her eldest daughter in marriage. The wretched mother caught the terrified Adelaide, who sunk fainting into her arms. The menacing looks of the negro became more horrible. He advanced to seize the trembling girl. Touch her not, cried the frantic mother; death will be preferable to such protection. Turning coldly from her he said, You shall have your choice. A few minutes after a guard seized the mother and the two youngest daughters and carried them out, leaving the eldest insensible on the floor. They were borne to a gallows which had been erected before their prison, and immediately hanged. Adelaide was then carried to the house of the treacherous chief, who informed her of the fate of her mother, and asked her if she would consent to become his wife? ah! no, she replied, let me follow my mother. A fate more dreadful awaited her. The monster gave her to his guard, who hung her by the throat on an iron hook in the market place, where the lovely, innocent, unfortunate victim slowly expired. LETTER XXIII. _St. Jago de Cuba._ I finished my last letter abruptly, my dear friend, but a good opportunity offered of sending it, and the story of madame G---- had so affected me that I could think of nothing else. St. Louis is determined to buy a plantation here, and establish himself on it till he can return to St. Domingo. His old disease has seized him with fresh violence, and he intends to carry his wife beyond the reach of men. He is jealous of an interesting Spaniard who has lately been very assiduous towards my sister; and who is, I believe, much more dangerous than the redoubted general Rochambeau. His person is perfectly elegant; his face beautiful; his large black eyes seem to speak every emotion of his soul, but I believe they express only what he pleases. Clara listens to him, and looks at him as if she was fully sensible of his advantages, and frequently holds long conversations with him in his own language, which, if gestures deceive not, are on no uninteresting subject. But I hope, and would venture to assert, that she will never, to escape from the domestic ills she suffers, put her happiness in the power of a Spaniard. She is violent in her attachments, and precipitate in her movements, but she cannot, will not, be capable of committing such an unpardonable act of folly. All idea of her going to the continent is abandoned; and when I only breathe a hint of leaving her, she betrays such agony that I yield and promise to stay; yet I render her little service, and destroy myself, being wearied of this place, which has no charm after the gloss of novelty is gone, and that has been long since worn off. A company of French comedians had built a theatre here, and obtained permission from the governor to perform. They played with eclat, and always to crowded houses. The Spaniards were delighted. The decorations, the scenery, above all the representation of the sea, appeared to them the effect of magic. But the charm was suddenly dissolved by an order from the bishop to close the theatre, saying, that it tended to corrupt the morals of the inhabitants. Nothing can be more ridiculous, for the inhabitants of this island have long since reached the last degree of corruption; devoted to every species of vice, guilty of every crime, and polluted by the continued practice of every species of debauchery. But it is supposed the order was issued to vex the governor, with whom the bishop is at variance, and the orders of the latter are indisputable. It is impossible for him not to know that even the vices of the French lose much of their deformity by the refinement that accompanies them, whilst those of his countrymen are gross, disgusting, and monstrously flagrant. Gaming is their ruling passion; from morning till night, from night till morning, the men are at the gaming table. They all wear daggers, and a night very seldom passes without being marked by an assassination, of which no notice is taken. The women have recourse to intrigue, sipping chocolate, or reciting prayers on their rosaries. The custom is to dine at twelve, then to sleep till three, and this is the hour favourable to amorous adventures. Whilst the mother, the husband or the guardian sleeps, the lover silently approaches the window of his mistress, and in smothered accents breathes his passion. It is not at all uncommon to see priests so employed; nor are there more dangerous enemies to female virtue, or domestic tranquillity, than these pretended servants of the Lord. I was at first shocked beyond measure, at their licentiousness, for I had been taught to consider priests as immaculate beings; but when I reflect that they are men, and doomed to an unnatural condition, I pardon their aberrations, and abhor only their filth, which is abominable. Consider how agreeable a monk must be in this hot country, clothed in woollen, without a shirt, without stockings, and his legs so dirty that their colour cannot be distinguished, to which is added a long beard; and yet these creatures are favourites with women of all ranks and all descriptions. There are many religious orders here, among which the Franciscan friars are the richest, and they are also the most irregular in their conduct. They had begun, a number of years since, to build a church, which they were obliged to discontinue for want of funds. Shortly after our arrival here the wife of a very rich merchant fell dangerously ill. When her life was despaired of by the physicians, she made a vow to St. Francis, that if she recovered, she would finish his church. The saint, it seems, was propitious, for she was restored to health, and her husband instantly performed the promise of his wife, which has cost him a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. The church was consecrated last week, with great pomp and due solemnity. The lady, who is certainly very beautiful, assisted at the ceremony, covered with diamonds, and displaying in her dress almost regal splendour. She kneeled on the steps of the great altar, and more than shared the adoration offered to the saint by the admiring multitude. Half the money expended in this pious work would have raised thousands of the inhabitants of this place, who are in the greatest want, to comparative ease. But it would not if thus employed, have had such an effect on the minds of the people; nor would the lady have had any hope of becoming herself a saint, an honour to which she aspires, and which she may perhaps attain. LETTER XXIV. _St. Jago de Cuba._ Clara and her husband are separated for ever! St. Louis is frantic, and I am distressed beyond measure. My heart is torn with anxiety for her fate, and I shall know no tranquillity till I hear that she is at least content. Being acquainted with many of the circumstances which led to this event, I pity and pardon her. As for the world, its sentence is already pronounced, and she will be condemned by those who possess not a thousandth part of her virtues. Her husband spares neither pains nor expense in searching after her retreat; but, though I am absolutely ignorant of it, I believe she is beyond his reach. His house is so disagreeable to me, since she left it, and the wry faces made by all our friends, seeming to involve me in the scandal occasioned by her elopement, excite such unpleasant sensations that it will be impossible for me to remain here. Therefore I shall leave this place immediately with a lady who is going to establish herself in Jamaica. I have always desired to see that island, and there I intend to stay till I have some positive information of Clara. If she is gone to the continent I shall follow her immediately; if she is in Cuba my friendship, my presence will console her, and they shall not be wanting. One of my friends, a man of intelligence and discretion, has promised to find her, if possible, and has promised also not to betray her, for she must never be restored to the power of her husband. Far from being an advocate for the breach of vows so sacred as those which bound her to St. Louis, I have always expressed with unqualified warmth, my disapprobation of the levity of many women who had abandoned their husbands. But there are circumstances which palliate error. Many of those which led to Clara's elopement plead for her; but if she has sought protection with another, if she will not accompany me, my heart renounces her, and she will no longer have a sister. We sail in three days. St. Louis makes no objection to my going, and I leave Cuba without regret, for in it I have never been happy. Write to me at Kingston. Never was the assurance of your friendship more necessary to my heart than at this moment. LETTER XXV. _Kingston, Jamaica._ We arrived at Kingston after a passage of twenty-four hours. On entering the harbour our little vessel, as it passed near the admiral's ship, appeared like an ant at the foot of a mountain. Nothing is more delightful than the bustle and continual movement that strikes the eye on entering this port. Innumerable boats are continually plying round the vessels, offering for sale all the fruits of the season. I like the town. There is an air of neatness in the houses which I have no where seen since I left my own country; but the streets are detestable; none of them are paved, and at every step you sink ankle deep in sand. I have found numbers of my French friends here, and among others madame M----, who was more than gallant at the Cape, and who at St. Jago appeared not insensible to the pleasure of being loved. She left her sister in a fit of jealousy and went to Jamaica, hoping to captivate some Englishman, or at least to rival him in his attachment to roast beef and Madeira. But it seems she has been disappointed, no lover having yet offered his homage to her robust attractions. She accuses them of wanting taste, and hates the place and all who inhabit it. I have also met here my little friend Coralie, whose adventures since I parted with her at the Cape, have been distressing and romantic. Her mother and herself had been persuaded to remain at the Cape, after the evacuation, by a brother on whom they entirely depended, and who, seduced by the hope of making a fortune, staid and shared the melancholy fate of the white inhabitants of that place. Coralie and her sister were concealed by an American merchant in his store, among sacks of coffee and boxes of sugar. Their mother had been led, with the rest of the women, to the field of slaughter. The benevolent man who concealed these unfortunate girls at the risk of his life, after some weeks had elapsed, and the vigilance of the negroes a little relaxed, entreated the captain of an English frigate to receive them on board his vessel, to which he readily agreed. Disguised in sailors' clothes, and carrying baskets of provisions on their heads, they followed the captain to the sea side. As they approached the guard placed on the wharf to examine all that embarked, they trembled, and involuntarily drew back. But their brave protector told them that it was too late to recede and that he would defend them with his life. As the English were on the best terms with the negroes, the supposed boys were suffered to pass. On entering the ship the captain congratulated them on their escape, and Coralie, overpowered by a variety of sensations, fainted in the arms of her generous protector. A few days after, they sailed for Jamaica. On entering Port Royal, the frigate was driven against a small vessel, and so damaged it, that it appeared to be sinking. The boat was instantly hoisted out, and the captain of the frigate went himself to the assistance of the sufferers. The passengers and crew jumped into the boat, and were making off, when the screams of a female were heard from below, and it was recollected that there was a sick lady in the cabin. The English captain descended, brought her up in his arms, and put her in the boat. Then, saying that the vessel was not so much injured as they imagined, ordered some of his people to assist him in saving many things that lay at hand. Four sailors jumped on board, and followed their commander to the cabin, where they had scarcely descended, when the vessel suddenly filled and sunk. They were irrecoverably lost. Coralie, standing on the deck of the frigate, beheld this catastrophe, saw perish the man to whom she owed her life, and whose subsequent kindness had won her heart. The lady found in the sinking vessel was her mother, who had escaped almost miraculously from the Cape, fully persuaded that her daughters existed no longer. The joy of their meeting was damped by the melancholy fate of their deliverer, which has been universally lamented. The scenes of barbarity, which these girls have witnessed at the Cape, are almost incredible. The horror, however, which I felt on hearing an account of them, has been relieved by the relation of some more honourable to human nature. In the first days of the massacre, when the negroes ran through the town killing all the white men they encountered, a Frenchman was dragged from the place of his concealment by a ruthless mulatto, who, drawing his sabre, bade him prepare to die. The trembling victim raised a supplicating look, and the murderer, letting fall his uplifted arm, asked if he had any money. He replied, that he had none; but that if he would conduct him to the house of an American merchant he might probably procure any sum he might require. The mulatto consented, and when they entered the house, the Frenchman with all the energy of one pleading for his life, entreated the American to lend him a considerable sum. The gentleman he addressed was too well acquainted with the villainy of the negroes to trust to their word. He told the mulatto, that he would give the two thousand dollars demanded, but not till the Frenchman was embarked in a vessel which was going to sail in a few days for Philadelphia, and entirely out of danger. The mulatto refused. The unfortunate Frenchman wept, and the American kept firm. While they were disputing, a girl of colour, who lived with the American, entered, and having learned the story, employed all her eloquence to make the mulatto relent. She sunk at his feet, and pressed his hands which were reeking with blood. Dear brother, she said, spare for my sake this unfortunate man. He never injured you; nor will you derive any advantage from his death, and by saving him, you will acquire the sum you demand, and a claim to his gratitude. She was beautiful; she wept, and beauty in tears has seldom been resisted. Yet this unrelenting savage did resist; and swore, with bitter oaths to pursue all white men with unremitting fury. The girl, however, hung to him, repeated her solicitations, and offered him, in addition to the sum proposed, all her trinkets, which were of considerable value. The mulatto, enraged, asked if the Frenchman was any thing to her? Nothing, she replied; I never saw him before; but to save the life of an innocent person how trifling would appear the sacrifice I offer. She continued her entreaties in the most caressing tone, which for some time had no effect, when softening all at once, he said, I will not deprive you of your trinkets, nor is it for the sum proposed that I relent, but for you alone, for to you I feel that I can refuse nothing. He shall be concealed, and guarded by myself till the moment of embarking; but, when he is out of danger, you must listen to me in your turn. She heard him with horror; but, dissembling, said there would be always time enough to think of those concerns. She was then too much occupied by the object before her. The American, who stood by and heard this proposal, made to one to whom he was extremely attached, felt disposed to knock the fellow down, but the piteous aspect of the almost expiring Frenchman withheld his hand. He gave the mulatto a note for the money he had demanded, on the conditions before mentioned, and the Frenchman was faithfully concealed till the vessel was ready to sail, and then embarked. When he was gone, the mulatto called on the girl, and offering her the note, told her that he had accepted it as a matter of form, but that he now gave it to her; and reminded her of the promise she had made to listen to his wishes. Her lover entering at that moment told him that the vessel was then out of the harbour, and that his money was ready. He took it, and thus being in the power of the American gentleman, who had great weight with Dessalines, he probably thought it best to relinquish his projects on the charming Zuline, for she heard of him no more. The same girl was the means of saving many others, and the accounts I have heard of her kindness and generosity oblige me to think of her with unqualified admiration. LETTER XXVI. _Kingston, Jamaica._ I pass my time agreeably enough here, though I am obliged to stay in a boarding house till madame L---- can be fixed in her own. A few days ago a Spanish sloop of war was captured by a British frigate, and brought into Jamaica. The officers were suffered to land, and came to lodge in the house where I stay. When called to dinner I was surprized at finding myself among a group of strangers. As the mistress of the house never dines at table, and madame L---- was abroad, I would have retreated, but curiosity prompted me to remain. The Spanish captain is an elderly man of most respectable appearance. All the rest are young, full of spirits, and two of them remarkably beautiful. Taking it for granted that I was French, and not imagining I could understand their language, as soon as they were seated at table they indulged very freely in their remarks on myself. One said I was not pretty; another, that I was interesting; another, that I resembled somebody he had seen before; and one elegant young man, who sat next me, having brushed his arm against mine made in Spanish an apology, which I appeared not to understand. He then asked me if I spoke English? I shook my head; and he observed to his companions, that he had never so much regretted his ignorance of the French. They laughed; and he continued lamenting the impossibility of making himself understood. After dinner I withdrew, and having been engaged by Coralie to pass the evening at her house, I forgot the strangers, and thought of them no more till the next morning at breakfast, where they were all assembled, and where madame L---- related to me an adventure she had met with the day before. She spoke English, and as I was answering her my eyes met those of the young officer, and his look covered me with confusion. Ah! he said, you speak English, and were cruel enough to refuse holding converse with a stranger and a prisoner. I speak so little, I replied. No, no, he cried, your accent is not foreign; I could almost swear that it is your native language. He looked at the others with an air of triumph; and the one who had said I was not pretty, observed, that he was glad I did not speak Spanish; but I understand it perfectly, I answered in the same language. He looked petrified; and the old captain was delighted. He made many inquiries after his friends at Cuba, with all of whom I was acquainted. The young officer who speaks English, is by birth an Irishman. He entered the Spanish service at the age of fifteen; had been several years at Lima; had returned to Europe, and was on his way to Vera Cruz when they were taken by the English. With him my heart claimed kindred, for in every Irishman I fancy I behold a brother and a friend. His manners are elegant and interesting beyond expression. There is an appearance of sadness in his face, which heightens the interest his fine form creates; and if I had an unoccupied heart, and he a heart to offer, I believe we should soon forget that he is a prisoner and I a stranger! I have learned from him, that on his arrival at Lima, he was lodged in the house of a gentleman who had a beautiful daughter. She was a widow, though very young. The seclusion in which the ladies of this county live rendered such a companion as Don Carlos doubly dangerous, and the beauty and sweetness of Donna Angelina, made an indelible impression on his heart. Their mutual passion was soon acknowledged; but obstacles, which appeared insurmountable, seemed to deprive them even of hope. Angelina had inherited the immense fortune left by her husband, on condition of remaining a widow. Her father was very rich, but avarice was his ruling passion. He had sacrificed his only child at the age of thirteen to an old man, merely because he was wealthy, and there was no reason to expect that he would suffer her to abandon the fortune she had so dearly acquired, and marry a man who had no inheritance but his sword. Though these considerations cast a cloud over their mutual prospects, they still cherished their mutual affection, and hoped that some fortunate event would at length render them happy. The father of Angelina never suspected the situation of his daughter's heart, and her intercourse with Don Carlos was without restraint. Delightful moments of visionary happiness how quickly ye passed; delivering in your flight two victims to the gripe of despair! A new viceroy arrived from Spain and Angelina was obliged to appear at a ball given to celebrate his entry into Lima. She danced with Don Carlos, and her beauty, eclipsing all other beauty, attracted universal notice, but particularly that of the viceroy, who went the next day to offer at her feet the homage of his adoration. She received him coldly, but the father was transported with joy, and when, a few days after, the viceroy demanded her hand, without hesitation favoured his suit. Angelina declined, and acquainted him with the conditions on which she inherited her husband's wealth, and her resolution to remain a widow. He told her that his own fortune was more than sufficient to replace that he wished her to sacrifice, but her evident aversion raised a suspicion of other reasons than those she avowed, and his jealous watchfulness soon discovered her attachment to Don Carlos. He informed her father of his discovery, who, furious at seeing his hopes of aggrandizing his family thwarted by a boy, forbad all intercourse between them. The means employed by the viceroy to separate them were still more effectual. A vessel was on the point of sailing for Spain, and Don Carlos received orders to embark instantly to bear dispatches of importance to the court. Resistance would have been vain. He sailed without being permitted to see the object he had so long adored. When he arrived in Spain, he learned that his rival had taken every precaution to prevent his return to Lima. Fortunately he knew the heart of his Angelina, and felt assured that the hopes of that detested rival would never be crowned with success; nor was he disappointed. She had been deprived by her father and the viceroy of the man she loved, but their power extended no farther. There was an asylum to which she could retreat from their tyranny; that asylum was a convent. She entered one, took the vows, and gave her immense fortune to the society of which she became a member. On the eve of entering the convent she wrote to Don Carlos, informing him of her intention; of the impossibility of preserving herself for him, and her determination never to belong to another. He received this letter the day on which he sailed for Vera Cruz, and I believe, does not regret being a prisoner, since he has found in the place of his captivity a kind being who listens to his tale of sorrows and seeks to pour the balm of consolation into his wounded heart. He amuses me continually with his stories of Lima; describing the splendour of its palaces, the magnificence of its churches, filled with golden saints and silver angels, and the beautiful women with which it abounds. He tells me there can be nothing more fascinating than their manners; nor more singular and picturesque than their dress, which consists of a petticoat, reaching no lower than the knee, and a veil that covers the head and waist, but through which a pretty face is often shewn in a most bewitching manner. At the same time I perceive that he talks on every subject with reluctance, except on that nearest his heart; and when speaking of this, he seems animated by all the energy of despair. I have heard of Clara by a person just arrived from Cuba, and have written to her. My heart is torn with anxiety for her fate, and will remain a stranger to repose till I receive more satisfactory intelligence. I fear she was not born to be at ease. She lives continually in an ideal world. Her enthusiastic imagination filled with forms which it creates at pleasure, cherishes a romantic hope of visionary happiness which never can be realized. Yet with all my fine sentiments of correctness and propriety, and the duty of content and resignation, my heart refuses to condemn her for having left her husband. Never was there any thing more directly opposite than the soul of Clara, and that of the man to whom she was united. Their tempers, their dispositions, were absolutely incompatible. And should I abandon this poor girl to misfortune? should I leave her to perish among strangers? ah! no, she is twined round my heart, and I love her with more than a sister's affection. As soon as I hear from her again, you shall be informed of my intentions. If I can induce her to return with me to Philadelphia, in rejoining you I shall think myself no longer unhappy. LETTER XXVII. TO CLARA. _Kingston, Jamaica._ I have received the message, sent me by Anselmo, my dear Clara, and my joy at hearing of your welfare, made me forget for a moment, the many causes you have given me of complaint. Yet what more have I learned than that you exist? of all that concerns you I remain ignorant. Unkind Clara! thus you repay my friendship! thus console me for all the solicitude I have felt for you! To have staid with St. Louis, after you left him, was not possible, for he did not conceal his suspicions of my having been in your secret, nor could I find in Cuba an eligible retreat; for all my friends were his, and all disposed to condemn you. I accepted therefore, with pleasure, the offer made by Madame L----, to take me with her to Jamaica. Write to me, my dear sister, immediately. Tell me every thing. Does not your heart require the affectionate sympathy it has been accustomed to receive from mine? Can you live without me?--without me who have followed you, and love you with an affection so tender? Dearest Clara, speak, and I will fly to you! Means shall be found to return to Philadelphia, where, in peaceful obscurity we may live, free from the cares which have tormented you, and filled myself with anxiety. Anselmo will be careful of your letter. Write fully, and remember that you are writing to more than a sister; to a friend, who loves you, who adores your virtues, and who pardons, while she weeps, your faults! LETTER XXVIII. TO MARY ----. _Bayam, 20 leagues from St. Jago._ I know your heart, my dear Mary! On the affection which glows for me in that heart, I have counted for the pardon of my errors, and your letter convinces me that I have not been deceived. You know, for you witnessed, my domestic infelicity; yet, how many of my pains did I not conceal, to spare you the anguish of lamenting sorrows which you could not alleviate! St. Louis, after his arrival at St. Jago, had connected himself with a company of gamesters, and with them passed all his time.--Often returning at a late hour from the gaming table, he has treated me with the most brutal violence,--this you never knew; nor many things which passed in the loneliness of my chamber, where, wholly in his power, I could only oppose to his brutality my tears and my sighs. To his intolerable and groundless jealousy at Cape Francois you were no stranger: it embittered my days. Since our arrival in this island it increased. In every man that approached me he saw a rival! and the more amiable the object, the more terrible were his apprehensions. He became acquainted, at some of the haunts of gaming, with Don Alonzo de P---- and brought him to our house, but, when his visits had been repeated two or three times, all the tortures of jealousy were awakened in the breast of St. Louis. If I received this young stranger with pleasure, it was because I found him interesting. If I avoided him it was an acknowledgement of his power! He had insisted on my learning the Spanish language, yet if I spoke in that language it was to express sentiments I sought to conceal from him. How often, in the bitterness of anguish, have I thought that the direst poverty would be preferable to the ease I had purchased at the expence of my peace! but alas! the colour of my fate was fixed,--I was united to St. Louis by bonds which I had been taught to consider sacred, and, though my heart shuddered at the life-long tie, yet I always recoiled with horror from the idea of breaking it.--That tie however is broken; those bonds are dissolved! and there is no fate so dreadful to which I would not submit, rather than have them renewed. Believe me when I assure you that my flight was not premeditated. It is true, the eloquent eyes of Don Alonzo often spoke volumes, but I never appeared to understand their language, nor did a look of encouragement ever escape me. For some days previous to my elopement the ill humour of St. Louis had been intolerable. My wearied soul sunk beneath the torments I endured and death would have been preferable to such a state of existence. The night before I left him he came home in a transport of fury, dragged me from my bed, said it was his intention to destroy me, and swore that he would render me horrible by rubbing aqua-fortis in my face. This last menace deprived me of the power of utterance; to kill me would have been a trifling evil, but to live disfigured, perhaps blind, was an insufferable idea and roused me to madness. I passed the night in speechless agony. The only thought I dwelt on was, how to escape from this monster, and, at break of day, I was still sitting, as if rendered motionless by his threats. From this stupor I was roused by his caresses, or rather by his brutal approaches, for he always finds my person provoking, and often, whilst pouring on my head abuse which would seem dictated by the most violent hatred, he has sought in my arms gratifications which should be solicited with affection, and granted to love alone. You must recollect my unusual sadness that day; for well do I remember the kind efforts you made to divert me. I awaited the approach of night with gloomy impatience, determined that the dawn of day should not find me beneath that hated roof. When I left you in the evening it was with difficulty I restrained my tears. My heart was breaking at the idea of being separated from you, if not forever at least for a considerable time, and the thought of the pain my flight would occasion you almost determined me to relinquish it. But St. Louis was in my chamber, and his presence dispelled every idea, except that of avoiding it forever. After seeing me undressed, he left me, as usual, to pass the greatest part of the night abroad. His vigilant guard, the faithful Madelaine, lay down near the door of my apartment, and I, taking a book, appeared to read. At eleven o'clock I knew by her breathing that she was asleep. Taking off my shoes, I passed her softly--opened the door that leads into the garden, and was instantly in the street. The moments were precious, for I had the whole town to pass, in order to gain the road to _Cobre_, where I intended to request an asylum of Madame V----. I flew with the rapidity of lightning, nor stopped to breathe till I had passed the town. Beginning to ascend the mountain, I paused, and leaning against a tree, reflected for a moment on the singularity of my situation.--Alone, at midnight, on the road to an obscure village, whose inhabitants are regarded as little better than a horde of banditti!--Flying from a husband, whose pursuit I dreaded more than death; leaving behind me a sister, for whom my heart bled, but whom I could never think of involving in my precarious fate! The night was calm. The town, which lies at the foot of the mountain, was buried in profound repose. The moon-beams glittered on the waves that were rolling in the bay, and shed their silvery lustre on the moving branches of the palm trees. The silence was broken by the melodious voice of a bird, who sings only at this hour, and whose notes are said to be sweeter than those of the European nightingale. As I ascended the mountain, the air became purer. Every tree in this delightful region is aromatic; every breeze wafts perfumes! I had six miles to walk, and wished to reach the village before day, yet I could not avoid frequently stopping to enjoy the delightful calm that reigned around me! I knew that, as soon as I was missed, the town would be diligently searched for me, but of the retreat I had chosen St. Louis could have no idea, for he was totally unacquainted with the residence of Madame V----. To this lady I had rendered some essential services at the Cape, which gave me a claim on her friendship. She left that place before us, and on her arrival here, bought a little plantation in _Cobre_, where she lives in the greatest retirement. I had heard of her by accident, and thought it the surest retreat I could find. As the day broke I perceived the straggling huts which compose this village, and, approaching the most comfortable one of the group, found to my great satisfaction, that it was inhabited by the lady I sought. She had just risen, and was opening the door as I drew near it. Her surprise at seeing me was so great, that she doubted for a moment the evidence of her senses; but, seizing my hand, she led me to her chamber, where, pressed in her arms, I felt that I had found a friend, and the tears that flowed on her bosom were proofs of my gratefulness. I began to explain to her my situation. "I know it all!" she cried, "you have escaped from your husband. My predictions are verified, though a little later than I expected.--But where" continued she, "is your sister?" I replied that my flight had not been premeditated, and that you had not been apprised of it. There was no necessity for giving her a reason for having left my husband. She had always been at a loss to find one for my staying with him so long. The next consideration was my toilette. I was bare-headed, without stockings:--my shoes were torn to pieces by the ruggedness of the road, and I had no other covering than a thin muslin morning gown. The kind friend, who received me, supplied me with clothes, and checked her eagerness to learn the particulars of my story till I had taken the repose I so much required. Towards evening she seated herself by my bedside, and I related to her all that I had suffered since she left me at the Cape. But when I spoke of the threat which had determined me to the step I had taken, she made an exclamation of horror. I told her that my intention was to remain concealed till the search after me was over, and then to embark for the continent. She approved the project, and said, that I could be no where in greater security than with her; for, though the village is only six miles from town, it is as much secluded as if it was in the midst of a desert, except at the feast of the holy Virgin which is celebrated once a year. The festival lasts nine days, and all the inhabitants of St. Jago come to assist at its celebration. Unfortunately the season of the feast was approaching, during which it would have been impossible for me to remain concealed in the village. However, as there was still time to consider, she bade me be tranquil, and promised to find me a retreat. Two days after she went to town and at her return I learned that nothing was talked of but my elopement. St. Louis, in the first transports of his rage, has entered a complaint against Don Alonzo and, declaring that he had carried me off, had him imprisoned! It was feared this step would be attended with ill consequences, for this young Spaniard, being related to the bishop and some of the most distinguished families, it was supposed the indignity of his imprisonment would be resented by them all! Besides, he was entirely innocent of the charge exhibited against him, not having had the slightest idea of my flight. This information filled me with alarm. I felt insecure so near the town and entreated madame V---- to indicate a more remote and safe asylum. She told me that she had a friend, twenty leagues from town, to whom she had often promised a visit; that the inconvenience of travelling in this barbarous country, had hitherto prevented her going, but that these considerations vanished before the idea of obliging me, and that the pleasure of making the journey in my company would be a sufficient inducement. Two days were past in procuring horses and making preparations for our departure. In the evening we walked among the rocks, which surround the village, and, had my heart been at ease, I should have wandered with delight in these romantic regions. The place was once famous for its valuable copper mines, from which it takes its name, but they have been long abandoned. The inhabitants, almost all mulattos, are in the last grade of poverty, and too indolent to make an exertion to procure themselves even the most necessary comforts. Yet, in this abode of wretchedness, there is a magnificent temple, dedicated to the blessed Virgin. Its ornaments and decorations are superb. The image of the Virgin, preserved in the temple, is said to be miraculous and performs often wonderful things. The faith of these people in her power is implicit. The site of the temple is picturesque, and the scenery, that surrounds it, beautiful beyond description, standing near the summit of a mountain, at the foot of which lies the village. You ascend to it by a winding road, and see its white turrets, at a great distance, glittering beneath the palm trees that gracefully wave over it. After passing through the miserable village and following the winding path through craggy cliffs, over barren rocks and precipices which the eye dares not measure, the mind almost involuntarily yields to the belief of supernatural agency. On entering the church the image of the Virgin, fancifully adorned and reposing on a bed of roses, appears like the presiding genius of the place. The waxen tapers, continually burning, the obscurity that reigns within, occasioned by the impenetrable branches of the trees which overshadow it, and the slow solemn tone of the organ, re-echoed by the surrounding rocks, fill the mind with awe; and we pardon the superstitious faith of the ignorant votaries of this holy lady, cherished as it is by every circumstance that can tend to make it indelible! At the appointed time, before the dawn of day, our little cavalcade set out. Madame V---- and myself on horseback, preceded by a guide, and followed by a boy, leading two mules charged with provisions, and every thing requisite for the journey. We wore large straw hats, to defend us from the sun, with thick veils, according to the custom of the country. Leaving Cobre behind us, we ascended the mountain. The road passed through groves of majestic trees, intermingled with the orange and the lime, which being in blossom, the senses were almost overpowered by the odours which filled the air. We proceeded slowly and silently.--I thought of you my dear sister!--My tears flowed at the idea of your pain, and I trembled to think that I was not out of danger of being discovered. About eight o'clock our guide said it was time to breakfast, and, tying our horses, he struck a light, kindled a fire, and made chocolate. The repast finished, we continued on our way through the same delightful country; still breathing the purest air, but without discovering any vestige of a human habitation. About noon we saw a little hut. The guide, alighting, half opened the door, saying "May the holy virgin bless this house!" This salutation brought out a tall sallow man, who gravely taking his segar from his mouth, bowed ceremoniously, and bid us enter. We followed him, and saw, sitting on an ox hide, stretched on the ground, a woman, whose ragged garments scarcely answered the first purposes of decency. She was suckling a squalid naked child, and two or three dirty children were lolling about, without being disturbed by the appearance of strangers. A hammock, suspended from the roof, was the only article of furniture in the house. Whilst the guide was unloading the mules to prepare our dinner, I went out to seek a seat beneath some trees; for the filth of the house, and the appearance of its inhabitants filled me with disgust. To my infinite astonishment, the plains which extended behind the house, as far as the eye could reach, were covered with innumerable herds of cattle, and on enquiring of the guide to whom they belonged, I learned, with no less surprise, that our host was their master. Incredible as it may appear, this miserable looking being, whose abode resembled the den of poverty, is the owner of countless multitudes of cattle, and yet it was with the greatest difficulty that we could procure a little milk. A small piece of ground, where he raised tobacco enough for his own use, was the only vestige of cultivation we could discover. Nothing like vegetables or fruit could be seen. When they kill a beef, they skin it, and, cutting the flesh into long pieces about the thickness of a finger, they hang it on poles to dry in the sun; and on this they live till it is gone, and then kill another. Sometimes they collect a number of cattle and drive them to town, in order to procure some of the most absolute necessaries of life. But this seldom happens, and never till urged by the most pressing want. As for bread, it is a luxury with which they are entirely unacquainted. After dinner the guide, and the host, and all the family, lay down on the ground to sleep the siesta, which, you know no consideration would tempt a Spaniard to forget. Madame V---- walked with me under the trees, near the house, and remarked the striking difference between this country and St. Domingo. There, every inch of ground was in the highest state of cultivation, and everybody was rich, here, the owners of vast territories are in the most abject poverty. This she ascribed to the different genius of the people, but I think unjustly, believing that it is entirely owing to their vicious government. After our guide had taken his nap he led up the horses, and bidding adieu to our hosts, we continued our journey. We passed during the afternoon several habitations similar to the one where we dined. The same wretchedness; the same poverty exhibited itself, surrounded by troops of cattle, who bathed in plains of the most luxuriant pasturage. As the sun declined our guide began to sing a litany to the Virgin, in which he was joined by the boy who followed us. The strain was sweet. "And round a holy calm diffusing In melancholy murmurs died away." At the close of day we stopped at a hut, where the guide told us we must pass the night, and I learned that we had come ten leagues, though we had advanced at a snail's pace. The hut we entered was inhabited by an old man who, retiring with the guide to an adjoining shed, left us the house to ourselves. The couch, which invited us to repose, was a hide laid on the ground. Madame V---- had brought sheets, and, spreading them on the hide, I soon sunk to rest. But my slumbers were interrupted by a most unaccountable noise, which seemed to issue from all parts of the room, not unlike the clashing of swords; and, as I listened to discover what it was, a shriek from Madame V---- increased my terror. In sounds scarcely articulate, she said a large cold animal had crept into her bosom, and in getting it out, it had seized her hand. Frightened to death I opened the door and called the guide, who discovered by his laughing that he had foreseen our misfortune, and guarded against it by suspending his hammock from the branches of a tree. When I asked for a light to search for what had disturbed us, he said it was nothing but land crabs, which, at this season, descend in countless multitudes from the mountain, in order to lay their eggs on the sea shore. The ground was covered with them, and paths were worn by them down the sides of the mountain. They strike their claws together as they move with a strange noise, and no obstacle turns them from their course. Had they not found a passage through the house they would have gone over it; and one finding madame V---- in his way, had crept into her bosom. The master of the house gave his hammock to madame V----. I mounted in that of the guide; but the curiosity excited by our visitors, rendered it impossible for us to sleep. I asked the guide if it was common to see them in such numbers. He said that it was; and told me that the English having some years ago made a descent on the island, had seized a Spaniard whom they found in a hut, and threatened to kill him if he would not shew them the way to St. Jago, which they had always wished to possess, but which they could not approach by sea. The terrified Spaniard promised to comply. In the night, as they were encamped on the mountain, waiting for daylight in order to proceed, they heard a noise stealing through the thickets, like that of an approaching host. They asked their prisoner what it meant? he replied, that it could be nothing but a body of Spaniards who, apprized of their descent, were preparing to attack them. The noise increasing on all sides, the English, fearful of being surrounded, embarked, and in their haste suffered the prisoner to escape, who by his address probably prevented them from becoming masters of the island, for the pretended host was nothing more than an army of these crabs. The man, I understand, received no reward; but the anniversary of this event is still celebrated; and if the crabs have not been canonized, they are at least spoken of with as much reverence as the sacred geese, to which Rome owed its preservation. During the night their noise prevented me effectually from sleeping. They appeared like a brown stream rolling over the surface of the earth. Towards morning they gradually disappeared, hiding themselves in holes during the day. At the first peep of dawn we set out, and arrived in the evening at Bayam. The friend of madame V---- received us with great cordiality. She lost her husband soon after her arrival in this country. She is very handsome, and has an air of sadness which renders her highly interesting. She was informed of my story, and requested me to think myself at home in her house. It was determined that I should pass for a relation of her husband; and soothed by her kindness and attentions I began to hope that beneath her roof I should find repose. Madame V----, after staying with us eight days, returned to Cobre, promising to inform herself of you, and to write me all that was passing. She wrote me immediately that you had sailed for Jamaica: that Don Alonzo was out of prison; that he had commenced a suit against St. Louis for false imprisonment, and that the latter was actually confined. Don Alonzo is powerfully supported by the bishop and all his family, who have long been at variance with the governor, and gladly seek this opportunity of revenging themselves. She finally told me, my dear Mary, that she had discovered a young man who owned a small vessel in which he goes constantly to Jamaica, and that she had entreated him to find you, to tell you that I am well, and to charge himself with your letter, not doubting but you would write. That kind letter I received yesterday, and it has given me the first agreeable sensation I have known since we parted. I am convinced of your affection for me, but do not let that affection hurry you into imprudencies which may perhaps betray me. Do not think of returning to St. Jago; and, may I add, do not think of leaving Jamaica till I can join you. We will return to the continent together, and I hope together we shall be happy. Two or three doubloons, which I brought with me, prevent my being dependant on the lady in whose house I am, for any thing but her friendship. I was struck with the resemblance of a Spanish lady who lives near us to Don Alonzo, and found, on enquiring, that she is his sister. She spoke to me of her brother, but is as ignorant of his affairs as if he dwelt in the moon. This place is the abode of poverty and dullness, yet the people are so hospitable that from the little they possess they can always spare something to offer to a stranger. And they are content with their lot--how many reasons have I not to be so with mine! LETTER XXIX. TO MARY ----. _Bayam._ I thank you a thousand times, my dear sister, for your affectionate letter, and for the parcel that accompanied it. I knew with what pleasure you would share with me all you possess, and to be indebted to you adds to my happiness. What you have heard of St. Louis is true. The affair of Don Alonzo and himself was made up by the interposition of some of their mutual friends who represented him as half mad; and somebody having spread a report that I had sailed for the city of Santo Domingo, he embarked immediately for that place. What he could think I should seek at Santo Domingo, I am at a loss to imagine. My retreat has been discovered, and though by one who would not betray me, yet he is the last person on earth, except St. Louis, to whom I could have wished it to be known. The husband of Donna Maria, the Spanish lady whom I mentioned to you before, had gone to St. Jago, some days previous to my arrival here. Having, as is the universal custom, visited a gaming house, he had a dispute with a gambler of bad reputation, and on leaving the house received a blow with a poinard, which proved mortal. Such occurrences are too frequent to create much public interest, and it is considered useless to seek the assassin. When the senora Maria expected the return of her husband, she heard that he existed no longer. The news was brought by her brother. Her house joins the one I live in. Hearing the most lamentable cries from her chamber I ran in. Judge of my surprise at seeing Don Alonzo. His, I believe, was not less, for abandoning his sister, he approached me; but I was too much terrified at her situation, to attend to him. When informed of the cause, I felt that in that moment she could not be consoled, and I saw also that the violence of her sorrow would soon exhaust itself. Don Alonzo sought an opportunity of speaking to me, which I avoided. Learning afterwards where I lived, he so ingratiated himself with madame St. Clair, that he received an invitation to her house, and in that house he now passes all his time. He has been the innocent cause of much of my suffering, yet I cannot find fault with his conduct; and madame St. Clair, devoting much of her time to his widowed sister, I have no means of escaping from him. He has informed me of many of the follies of St. Louis, of the obstinacy with which he affirmed that Don Alonzo had aided my flight, and of the means he had employed to discover me. And why, he sometimes asks, did you not suffer me to aid you? why did you not repose confidence in me? You know my dear Mary, how eloquent are his eyes! you know the insinuating softness of his voice! Sometimes, when listening to him, I forget for a moment all I have suffered, and almost persuade myself that a man can be sincere. The governor of Bayam is an Irish Spaniard, at least he is of an Irish family, and was born in Spain. I have become acquainted with him since the arrival of Don Alonzo, and felt, the instant I beheld him, as if I was in the society of an old acquaintance. His Irish vivacity is a little tempered by Spanish gravity. He speaks English as if he had been raised in his own country, and his mind is stored with literary treasures. He has a handsome collection of books, which he offered me. Judge of my delight at meeting with Shakspeare in the wilds of Cuba. What could have induced him to accept this sorry government I have not yet learned, but he certainly possesses talents which merit a more important employment, and his elegant manners would add lustre to the most distinguished situation. He laughs heartily at his ragged subjects, by whom however he is regarded as a father and a friend. He says with better laws they would be the best fellows in the world; but situated as they are, their indolence is their best security. We often make excursions in the beautiful environs of this place and dine beneath the shade of the palm tree, or the tall and graceful cocoa, which offers us in its fruit a delicious dessert, whilst the gaiety of the governor diffuses around us an indescribable charm. But my dear sister, think not that I forget you in these delightful scenes. On the contrary I long to see you, and am hastening the moment of my departure. Madame St. Clair, seduced by the description I have made of our peaceful country, and wearied of a place where she has known nothing but misfortune, where the talents she possesses are absolutely lost, intends going with me to Philadelphia, as soon as she can arrange her affairs, and has consented to accompany me to Kingston, from whence we can all sail together. You will love her, I am sure, for her kindness to me; but, independently of that consideration, her beauty, the graceful sweetness of her manners, and her divine voice, render it impossible to behold or listen to her with indifference. The governor says, if he loses his two most amiable subjects, his little empire will not be worth keeping. Don Alonzo "Looks and sighs unutterable things," and sometimes hints, in broken accents, the passion he has felt for me since the first moment he saw me, at all which I laugh. For me, henceforth all men are statues. I was so ill-fated as to meet that phenomenon a jealous Frenchman, and with my wounds still bleeding, would I put my happiness in the power of a Spaniard? Ah! no, let me avoid the dangerous intercourse, let me fly to my sister! Why are you so far removed from me? why did you so hastily leave the island, where you knew I must be, and in a situation too in which your counsel, your support is doubly necessary. It will be impossible for me to leave Bayam in less than a month. We shall sail for Kingston with Anselmo. Much precaution must be used, for I must embark from St. Jago, and if I was discovered, should certainly be arrested by the governor, who is exasperated against me. Write to me, my dear girl, by the return of the vessel; and believe me that I wait with the utmost impatience for the moment that will reunite us. LETTER XXX. TO CLARA. _Kingston._ Let me entreat you, my dear sister, to leave Bayam as soon as possible. I cannot describe the pain with which I heard of Don Alonzo being near you. You pass hours, days with him; you talk of his eloquent eyes, his sweet voice. Ah! fly, dearest creature, fly from the danger that surrounds you. Listen not to that insinuating Spaniard. If you do you are irrecoverably lost. Why indeed am I not near you? yet after your flight, to stay in Cuba was impossible, and my leaving it was, I believe, one of the principal reasons which determined St. Louis to leave it also: so far it was fortunate. My heart always acquitted you for having taken the resolution to abandon your home; for though, as you say, I knew not all, I knew enough to awaken in my breast every sensation of pity. Yet it is not sufficient that you are acquitted by a sister, who will always be thought partial; and if you cannot conciliate general approbation, at least endeavour to avoid meriting general censure. Who that hears of your being at Bayam, in the house of the sister of Don Alonzo, knowing that he had been publicly accused of having taken you off, and learns, that as soon as the affair was hushed up in St. Jago, that he went to Bayam, that he passes all his time in your society, that at home and abroad he is ever at your side, who can hear all this, and not believe that it was preconcerted? Ah! Clara, Clara, I believe that it was not, because I love you, and cannot think you would deceive me. But why stay a month, a week, a day, where you are? Why not come to me when Anselmo returns? when with me, my friendship, my affection, will soothe and console you. I will remove from your lacerated breast the thorns which have been planted there by the hand of misfortune. You shall forget your sorrows, and I will aid you against your own heart, for I believe at present _that_ is your most dangerous enemy. LETTER XXXI. TO MARY ----. _Bayam._ You frighten me to death, my dear sister, with your apprehensions. You paint my situation in terrifying colours; yet could I forsee that I should be led into it, when alone and friendless I fled at midnight from a house where I suffered continual torture? Did I imagine that in Bayam I should become acquainted with Don Alonzo's sister, and that I should meet him in her house? Sentence, I know, has been passed against me, and that sentence will be confirmed by what has happened subsequent to my elopement. The testimony of my own heart will be of little avail. But will you also join against me? I cannot believe it. Condemn me not, at least suspend all opinion till we meet, which will be in a fortnight. To avoid the danger of passing through St. Jago, we go by land to a place called Portici, from whence we shall embark. The journey will be delightful. We intend making it on horseback. The governor and Don Alonzo will accompany us. Start not at this, for it cannot be otherwise; nor could I, by refusing his services, discover that I thought it dangerous to accept them. In my anxiety to see you, every moment seems an age, yet I feel something like regret at leaving this country. The friendliness of the people can never be forgotten. Here, as in Barracoa, they are poor but contented. They sip their chocolate, smoke a segar, and thrum the guitar undisturbed by care. Often, when reviewing the events of my past life, I wish that their calm destiny had been mine; but alas! how different has been my fate. I write this letter to prepare you for my arrival. When Anselmo goes next, I go with him; and, when I embrace my sister, I shall be happy. LETTER XXXII. _Kingston, Jamaica._ Clara, my dear friend, is at length arrived. I have held that truant girl to my heart, and have forgotten whilst embracing her all the reproaches I intended to make, and which I thought she deserved. I cannot help loving her, though I approve not of all she does; but I will blame her fate rather than herself, for who can behold her and not believe that she is all goodness? who can witness the powers of her mind and withhold their admiration? Whatever subject may engage her attention, she seizes intuitively on what is true, and by a sort of mental magic, arrives instantaneously at the point where, even very good heads, only meet her after a tedious process of reasoning and reflection. Her memory, surer than records, perpetuates every occurrence. She accumulates knowledge while she laughs and plays: she steals from her friends the fruits of their application, and thus becoming possessed of their intellectual treasure, without the fatigue of study, she surprises them with ingenious combinations of their own materials, and with results of which they did not dream. Her heart keeps a faithful account, not only of every word but of every look, of every movement of her friends, prompted by kindness and affection, and never is her society more delightful than in those moments of calm and sublime meditation, when her genius surveys the past, or wanders through a fanciful and novel arrangement of the future. Who that thus knows Clara, and is sensible of her worth, can have known her husband, and condemn her? It is true, Clara is said to be a coquette, but have not ladies of superior talents and attractions, at all times and in all countries been subject to that censure? unless indeed theirs was the rare fortune of becoming early in life attached to a man equal or superior to themselves! Attachments between such people last through life, and are always new. Love continues because love has existed; interests create interests; parental are added to conjugal affections; with the multiplicity of domestic objects the number of domestic joys increase. In such a situation the heart is always occupied, and always full. For those who live in it their home is the world; their feelings, their powers, their talents are employed. They go into society as they take a ramble; it affords transient amusement, but becomes not a habit. Their thoughts, their wishes dwell at home, and they are good because they are happy. But if on the contrary a woman is disappointed in the first object of her affections, or if separated from him she loved, fate connects her with an inferior being, to what can it lead? You might as well expect to confine a sprightly boy, in all the vigour of health to sedate inaction, as to prevent talents and beauty, thus circumstanced, from courting admiration. A feeling heart seeks for corresponding emotions; and when a woman, like Clara, can fascinate, intoxicate, transport, and whilst unhappy is surrounded by seductive objects, she will become entangled, and be borne away by the rapidity of her own sensations, happy if she can stop short on the brink of destruction. If Clara's husband had been in every respect worthy of her she would have been one of the best and happiest of human beings, but her good qualities were lost on him; and, though he might have made a very good husband to a woman of ordinary capacity, to Clara he became a tyrant. Sensible of the impossibility of her leaving him, he took it for granted that she bestowed on another those sentiments he could not hope to awaken himself. Yet Clara never deceived him. There is in her character a proud frankness which renders her averse to, and unfit for intrigue. When at the Cape, she was not dazzled by splendor, though it courted her acceptance; nor could the ill-treatment of her husband force her to seek a refuge from it in the arms of a lover who had the means of protecting her. At St. Jago his conduct became more insupportable, and when at length she fled from his house, alone and friendless, she was unseduced by love, but impelled by a repugnance for her husband which had reached its height, and could no longer be resisted. Delivered from the weight of this oppressive sentiment, she now enjoys a delightful tranquillity, which even the thought of many approaching struggles with difficulty and distress, cannot disturb. In such a situation I am more than ever necessary to my sister; and, perhaps, it is the consciousness of this, that has given birth to many of the sentiments expressed in this letter. We have learned that St. Louis sailed from the city of Santo Domingo to France, from which I hope he may never return. Clara and myself will leave this for Philadelphia, in the course of the ensuing week. There I hope we shall meet you; and if I can only infuse into your bosom those sentiments for my sister which glow so warmly in my own, she will find in you a friend and a protector, and we may still be happy. THE END. 
38764	----	A ROVING COMMISSION [Illustration: "I HAVE HEARD A GREAT DEAL OF YOU, MR. GLOVER," THE ADMIRAL SAID.] A ROVING COMMISSION OR _THROUGH THE BLACK INSURRECTION AT HAYTI_ BY G. A. HENTY Author of "With Frederick the Great," "The Dash for Khartoum" "Both Sides the Border," etc. _WITH TWELVE ILLUSTRATIONS BY WILLIAM RAINEY, R.I._ NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1904 _Copyright_, 1899, BY CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS. PREFACE Horrible as were the atrocities of which the monsters of the French Revolution were guilty, they paled before the fiendish outrages committed by their black imitators in Hayti. Indeed, for some six years the island presented a saturnalia of massacre, attended with indescribable tortures. It may be admitted that the retaliation inflicted by the maddened whites after the first massacre was as full of horrors as were the outrages perpetrated by the blacks, and both were rivalled by the mulattoes when they joined in the general madness for blood. The result was ruin to all concerned. France lost one of her fairest possessions, and a wealthy race of cultivators, many belonging to the best blood of France, were annihilated or driven into poverty among strangers. The mulattoes, many of whom were also wealthy, soon found that the passions they had done so much to foment were too powerful for them; their position under the blacks was far worse and more precarious, than it had been under the whites. The negroes gained a nominal liberty. Nowhere were the slaves so well treated as by the French colonists, and they soon discovered that, so far from profiting by the massacre of their masters and families, they were infinitely worse off than before. They were still obliged to work to some extent to save themselves from starvation; they had none to look to for aid in the time of sickness and old age; hardships and fevers had swept them away wholesale; the trade of the island dwindled almost to nothing; and at last the condition of the negroes in Hayti has fallen to the level of that of the savage African tribes. Unless some strong white power should occupy the island and enforce law and order, sternly repress crime, and demand a certain amount of labour from all able-bodied men, there seems no hope that any amelioration can take place in the present situation. G. A. HENTY. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. A FIGHT WITH A BLOODHOUND 1 II. REJOINED 21 III. A SLAVE DEPOT 38 IV. A SHARP FIGHT 58 V. A PIRATE HOLD 76 VI. THE NEGRO RISING 93 VII. IN HIDING 112 VIII. A TIME OF WAITING 132 IX. AN ATTACK ON THE CAVE 152 X. AFLOAT AGAIN 172 XI. A FIRST COMMAND 191 XII. A RESCUE 211 XIII. TWO CAPTURES 232 XIV. THE ATTACK ON PORT-AU-PRINCE 253 XV. THE ATTACK ON PORT-AU-PRINCE 273 XVI. TOUSSAIT L'OUVERTURE 293 XVII. A FRENCH FRIGATE 311 XVIII. ANOTHER ENGAGEMENT 331 XIX. HOME 352 ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE "I HAVE HEARD A GREAT DEAL OF YOU, MR. GLOVER," THE ADMIRAL SAID _Frontispiece_ "HEADED BY NAT, THE CREW OF THE GIG LEAPT DOWN ON TO THE DECK" 40 THE GUNS ON THE RAMPART SEND A SHOWER OF GRAPE INTO THE PIRATE 64 "IT WAS NOT LONG BEFORE HE CAME ACROSS THE FIGURE OF A PROSTRATE MAN" 122 "HE FELL LIKE A LOG OVER THE PRECIPICE" 164 THE JOURNEY TO THE COAST 178 THE RESCUE OF LOUISE PICKARD 212 "FOUR SHOTS WERE FIRED AND AS MANY NEGROES FELL" 226 "THE CAPTAIN OF THE PIRATES SHOOK HIS FIST IN DEFIANCE" 246 A MESSAGE FROM TOUSSAINT L'OUVERTURE 294 "DROP IT!" NAT REPEATED 308 "NAT SPRANG ON TO THE RAIL" 318 A ROVING COMMISSION CHAPTER I A FIGHT WITH A BLOODHOUND "Now, look here, Nathaniel--" "Drop that, Curtis, you know very well that I won't have it. I can't help having such a beast of a name, and why it was given me I have never been able to make out, and if I had been consulted in the matter all the godfathers and godmothers in the world wouldn't have persuaded me to take such a name. Nat I don't mind. I don't say that it is a name that I should choose; still, I can put up with that, but the other I won't have. You have only just joined the ship, but if you ask the others they will tell you that I have had at least half a dozen fights over the name, and it is an understood thing here that if anyone wants a row with me he has only got to call me Nathaniel, and there is no occasion for any more words after that." The speaker was a pleasant-faced lad, between fifteen and sixteen, and his words were half in jest half in earnest. He was a general favourite among his mess-mates on board H. M. frigate _Orpheus_. He was full of life and fun, exceptionally good-tempered, and able to stand any amount of chaff and joking, and it was understood by his comrades that there was but one point that it was unsafe to touch on, and that sore point was his name. It had been the choice of his godmother, a maiden aunt, who had in her earlier days had a disappointment. Nat had once closely questioned his father as to how he came by his name, and the latter had replied testily: "Well, my boy, your Aunt Eliza, who is, you know, a very good woman--no one can doubt that--had a weakness. I never myself got at the rights of the matter. Anyhow, his name was Nathaniel. I don't think there was ever any formal engagement between them. Her own idea is that he loved her, but that his parents forbade him to think of her; for that was at a time before her Aunt Lydia left all her money to her. Anyhow, he went abroad, and I don't think she ever heard of him again. I am inclined to think it was an entire mistake on her part, and that the young fellow had never had the slightest fancy for her. However, that was the one romance of her life, and she has clung to it like a limpet to a rock. At any rate when we asked her to be your godmother she said she would be so if we would give you the name of Nathaniel. I own it is not a name that I like myself; but when we raised an objection, she said that the name was very dear to her, and that if you took it she would certainly make you her heir, and more than hinted that if you had any other name she would leave her money to charitable purposes. Well, you see, as she is worth thirty thousand pounds if she is worth a penny, your mother and I both thought it would be folly to allow the money to go out of the family for the sake of a name, which after all is not such a bad name." "I think it beastly, father, in the first place because it is long." "Well, my boy, if you like we can shorten it to Nathan." "Oh, that would be a hundred times worse! Nathan indeed! Nat is not so bad. If I had been christened Nat I should not have particularly minded it. Why did you not propose that to aunt?" His father shook his head. "That would never have done. To her he was always Nathaniel. Possibly if they had been married it might some day have become Nat, but, you see, it never got to that." "Well, of course, father," the boy said with a sigh, "as the thing is done it cannot be helped. And I don't say that aunt isn't a good sort--first-rate in some things, for she has always tipped me well whenever she came here, and she says she is going to allow me fifty pounds a year directly I get my appointment as midshipman; but it is certainly hard on me that she could not have fallen in love with some man with a decent name. Nathaniel is always getting me into rows. Why, the first two or three years I went to school I should say that I had a fight over it once a month. Of course I have not had one lately, for since I licked Smith major fellows are more careful. I expect it will be just as bad in the navy." So when he first joined Nat had found it, but now that he was nearly sixteen, and very strong and active, and with the experience of many past combats, the name Nathaniel had been dropped. It was six months since the obnoxious Christian name had been used, as it was now by a young fellow of seventeen who had been transferred to the _Orpheus_ when the frigate to which he belonged was ordered home. He was tall and lanky, very particular about his dress, spoke in a drawling supercilious way, and had the knack of saying unpleasant things with an air of innocence. Supposing that Glover's name must be Nathaniel, he had thought it smart so to address him, but although he guessed that it might irritate him, he was unprepared for an explosion on the part of a lad who was proverbially good-tempered. "Dear me," he said, in assumed surprise, "I had no idea that you objected so much to be called by your proper name! However, I will, of course, in future use the abbreviation." "You had better call me Glover," Nat replied sharply. "My friends can call me Nat, but to other people I am Glover, and if you call me out of that name there will be squalls; so I warn you." Curtis thought it was well not to pursue the subject further. He was no coward, but he had the sense to see that as Nat was a favourite with the others, while he was a new-comer, a fight, even if he were the victor, would not conduce to his popularity among his mess-mates. The president of the mess, a master's mate, a good-tempered fellow, who hated quarrels, broke what would have been an awkward silence by saying: "We seem to be out of luck altogether this trip; we have been out three weeks and not fired a shot. It is especially hard, for we caught sight of that brigantine we have been in search of, and should have had her if she hadn't run into that channel where there was not water enough for us to follow her." "Yes, that was rough upon us, and one hates to go back to Port Royal without a prize, after having taken so many that we have come to be considered the luckiest ship on the station," another said. "Still, the cruise is not over yet. I suppose by the way we are laying our course, Marston, we are going into Cape François?" The mate nodded. "Yes; we want fresh meat, fruit, and water, and it is about the pleasantest place among these islands. I have no doubt, too, that the captain hopes to get some news that may help him to find out where those piratical craft that are doing so much mischief have their rendezvous. They are all so fast that unless in a strong breeze a frigate has no chance whatever of overhauling them; there is no doubt that they are all of Spanish build, and in a light breeze they sail like witches. I believe our only chance of catching them is in finding them at their head-quarters, wherever that may be, or by coming upon them in a calm in a bay. In that case it would be a boat affair; and a pretty sharp one I should think, for they all carry very strong crews and are heavily armed, and as the scoundrels know that they fight with ropes round their necks they would be awkward customers to tackle." "Yes, if we happened to find them all together, I don't think the captain would risk sending in the boats. One at a time we could manage, but with three of them mounting about fifty guns between them, and carrying, I should say, from two hundred to two hundred and fifty men, the odds would be very great, and the loss, even if we captured them, so heavy that I hardly think the captain would be justified in attempting it. I should say that he would be more likely to get out all the boats and tow the frigate into easy range. She would give a good account of the whole of them." "Yes, there is no doubt about that; but even then we should only succeed if the bay was a very narrow one, for otherwise their boats would certainly tow them faster than we could take the frigate along." It was Glover who spoke last. "I don't think myself that we shall ever catch them in the frigate. It seems to me that the only chance will be to get hold of an old merchantman, put a strong crew on board and a dozen of our guns, and cruise about until one of them gets a sight of us and comes skimming along to capture us." "Yes, that would be a good plan; but it has been tried several times with success, and I fancy the pirates would not fall into the trap. Besides, there is very little doubt that they have friends at all these ports, and get early information of any movements of our ships, and would hear of what we were doing long before the disguised ship came near them. It can hardly be chance, that it matters not which way we cruise these fellows begin their work in another direction altogether. Now that we are here in this great bay, they are probably cruising off the west of Cuba or down by Porto Rico or the Windward Islands. That is the advantage that three or four craft working together have: they are able to keep spies in every port that our ships of war are likely to go into, while a single vessel cannot afford such expenses." "I don't think that the expenses, Low, would be heavy; the negroes would do it for next to nothing, and so would the mulattoes, simply because they hate the whites. I don't mean the best of the mulattoes, because many of them are gentlemen and good fellows; but the lower class are worse than the negroes, they are up to any devilment, and will do anything they can to injure a white man." "Poor beggars, one can hardly blame them; they are neither one thing nor the other! These old French planters are as aristocratic as their noblesse at home, and indeed many of them belong to noble families. Even the meanest white--and they are pretty mean some of them--looks down upon a mulatto, although the latter may have been educated in France and own great plantations. The negroes don't like them because of their strain of white blood. They are treated as if they were pariahs. Their children may not go to school with the whites, they themselves may not sit down in a theatre or kneel at church next to them, they may not use the same restaurants or hotels. No wonder they are discontented." "It is hard on them," Glover said, "but one can't be surprised that the whites do fight shy of them. Great numbers of them are brutes and no mistake, ready for any crime and up to any wickedness. There is lots of good in the niggers; they are merry fellows; and I must say for these old French planters they use their slaves a great deal better than they are as a rule treated by our planters in Jamaica. Of course there are bad masters everywhere, but if I were a slave I would certainly rather be under a French master than an English one, or, from what I have heard, than an American." "Very well, Glover, I will make a note of that, and if you ever misbehave yourself and we have to sell you, I will drop a line to the first luff how your preference lies." Early the next morning the frigate dropped anchor at Cape François, the largest and most important town in the island, with the exception of the capital of the Spanish portion of San Domingo. The _Orpheus_ carried six midshipmen. Four of these had been ashore when on the previous occasion the _Orpheus_ had entered the port. Nat Glover and Curtis were the exceptions, Curtis having at that time belonged to the frigate for but a very few weeks, and Nat having been in the first lieutenant's bad books, owing to a scrape into which he had got at the last port they had touched at. After breakfast they went up together to the first lieutenant, whose name was Hill. "Please, sir, if we are not wanted, can we have leave for the day?" The lieutenant hesitated, and then said: "Yes, I think the other four will be enough for the boats. You did not go ashore last time you were here, I think, Mr. Glover," he added with a slight smile. "No, sir." "Very well, then, you can go, but don't get into any scrape." "I will try not to, sir," Nat said demurely. "Well, I hope your trial will be successful, Mr. Glover, for if not, I can tell you that it will be a long time before you have leave again. These people don't understand that sort of thing." "He is a nice lad," Mr. Hill said to the second lieutenant as the two midshipmen walked away, "and when he has worked off those animal spirits of his he will make a capital officer, but at present he is one of the most mischievous young monkeys I ever came across." "He does not let them interfere with his duty," the other said. "He is the smartest of our mids; he is well up in navigation, and has any amount of pluck. You remember how he jumped overboard in Port Royal when a marine fell into the water, although the harbour was swarming with sharks. It was a near touch. Luckily we threw a bowline to him, and the two were hauled up together. A few seconds more and it would have been too late, for there was a shark within twenty feet of them." "Yes, there is no doubt about his pluck, Playford, and indeed I partly owe my life to him. When we captured that piratical brigantine near Santa Lucia I boarded by the stern, and she had such a strong crew that we were being beaten back, and things looked very bad until he with the gig's crew swarmed in over the bow. Even then it was a very tough struggle till they cut their way through the pirates and joined us, and we went at them together, and that youngster fought like a young fiend. He was in the thick of it everywhere, and yet he was as cool as a cucumber. Oh yes, he has the making of a very fine officer. Although I am obliged to be sharp with him, there is not a shadow of harm in the lad, but he certainly has a genius for getting into scrapes." The two midshipmen went ashore together. "I don't know what you are going to do, Curtis, but after I have walked through the place and had a look at it, I shall hire a horse and ride out into the country." "It is too hot for riding," the other said. "Of course I shall see what there is to be seen, and then I shall look for a seat in some place in the shade and eat fruit." "Well, we may as well walk through the town together," Nat said cheerfully. "From the look of the place I should fancy there was not much in it, and I know the fellows who went on shore before said that the town contained nothing but native huts, a few churches, and two or three dozen old French houses." Half an hour indeed sufficed to explore the place. When they separated Nat had no difficulty in hiring a horse. He had been accustomed, when in England, to ride a pony, and was therefore at home in the saddle; he proceeded at a leisurely pace along the road across the flat plain that surrounded Cape François. On either side were plantations,--sugar-cane and tobacco,--and he occasionally passed the abode of some wealthy planter, surrounded by shady trees and gardens gorgeous with tropical plants and flowers. He was going by one of these, half a mile from the town, when he heard a loud scream, raised evidently by a woman in extreme pain or terror. He was just opposite the entrance, and, springing from his horse, he ran in. On the ground, twenty yards from the gate, lay a girl. A huge hound had hold of her shoulder, and was shaking her violently. Nat drew his dirk and gave a loud shout as he rushed forward. The hound loosed his hold of the girl and turned to meet him, and, springing upon him with a savage growl, threw him to the ground. Nat drove his dirk into the animal as he fell, and threw his left arm across his throat to prevent the dog seizing him there. A moment later the hound had seized it with a grip that extracted a shout of pain from the midshipman. As he again buried his dirk in the hound's side, the dog shifted his hold from Nat's forearm to his shoulder and shook him as if he had been a child. Nat made no effort to free himself, for he knew that were he to uncover his throat for a moment the dog would seize him there. Though the pain was terrible he continued to deal stroke after stroke to the dog. One of these blows must have reached the heart, for suddenly its hold relaxed and it rolled over, just as half a dozen negroes armed with sticks came rushing out of the house. Nat tried to raise himself on his right arm, but the pain of the left was so great that he leant back again half-fainting. Presently he felt himself being lifted up and carried along; he heard a lady's voice giving directions, and then for a time he knew no more. When he came to himself he saw the ship's doctor leaning over him. "What is the matter, doctor?" he asked. "You are badly hurt, lad, and must lie perfectly quiet. Luckily the messenger who was sent to fetch a doctor, seeing Mr. Curtis and me walking up the street, ran up to us and said that a young officer of our ship was hurt, and that he was sent in to fetch a doctor. He had, in fact, already seen one, and was in the act of returning with him when he met us. Of course I introduced myself to the French doctor as we came along together, for we fortunately got hold of a trap directly, so that no time was lost. The black boy who brought the message told me that you and a young lady had been bitten by a great hound belonging to his master, and that you had killed it. Now, my lad, I am going to cut off your coat and look at your wounds. The Frenchman is attending to the young lady." "Mind how you touch my arm, doctor! it is broken somewhere between the elbow and the wrist; I heard it snap when the brute seized me. It threw me down, and I put my arm across over my throat, so as to prevent it from getting at that. It would have been all up with me if it had gripped me there." "That it would, Glover. I saw the dog lying on the grass as I came in. It is a big bloodhound; and your presence of mind undoubtedly saved your life." By this time he had cut the jacket and shirt up to the neck. Nat saw his lips tighten as he caught sight of the wound on the shoulder. "It is a bad bite, eh, doctor?" "Yes, it has mangled the flesh badly. The dog seems to have shifted his hold several times." "Yes, doctor, each time I stabbed him he gave a sort of start, and then caught hold again and shook me furiously. After the first bite I did not seem to feel any pain. I suppose the limb was numbed." "Very likely, lad. Now I must first of all see what damage was done to the forearm. I am afraid I shall hurt you, but I will be as gentle as I can." Nat clenched his teeth and pressed his lips tightly together. Not a sound was heard as the examination was being made, although the sweat that started out on his forehead showed how intense was the pain. "Both bones are broken," the surgeon said to his French colleague, who had just entered the room and came up to the bedside. "The first thing to do is to extemporize some splints, and of course we shall want some stuff for bandages." "I will get them made at once," the doctor replied. "Madame Demaine said that she put the whole house at my disposal." He went out, and in a few minutes returned with some thin slips of wood eighteen inches long and a number of strips of sheeting sewn together. "It is very fortunate," the surgeon said, "that the ends of the bone have kept pretty fairly in their places instead of working through the flesh, which they might very well have done." Very carefully the two surgeons bandaged the arm from the elbow to the finger-tips. "Now for the shoulder," the doctor said. They first sponged the wounds and then began feeling the bones again, giving exquisite pain to Nat. Then they drew apart and consulted for two or three minutes. "This is a much worse business than the other," Dr. Bemish said when he returned to the bedside; "the arm is broken near the shoulder, the collar-bone is broken too, and the flesh is almost in a pulp." "Don't say I must lose the arm, doctor," Nat said. "Well, I hope not, Glover, but I can't say for certain. You see I am speaking frankly to you, for I know that you have pluck. The injury to the collar-bone is not in itself serious, but the other is a comminuted fracture." "What is comminuted, doctor?" "It means that the bone is splintered, lad. Still, there is no reason why it should not heal again; you have a strong constitution, and Nature works wonders." For the next half-hour the two surgeons were at work picking out the fragments of bone, getting the ends together, and bandaging the arm and shoulder. Nat fainted under the pain within the first few minutes, and did not recover until the surgeons had completed their work. Then his lips were wetted with brandy and a few drops of brandy and water were poured down his throat. In a minute or two he opened his eyes. "It is all over now, lad." He lay for sometime without speaking, and then whispered, "How is the girl?" "Her shoulder is broken," Dr. Bemish replied. "I have not seen her; but the doctor says that it is a comparatively simple case." "How was it the dog came to bite her?" "She was a stranger to it. She is not the daughter of your hostess. It seems her father's plantation is some twelve miles away; he drove her in and left her here with Madame Demaine, who is his sister, while he went into town on business. Madame's own daughter was away, and the girl sauntered down into the garden, when the hound, not knowing her, sprang upon her, and I have not the least doubt would have killed her had you not arrived." "Are you going to take me on board, doctor?" "Not at present, Glover; you need absolute quiet, and if the frigate got into a heavy sea it might undo all our work, and in that case there would be little hope of saving your arm. Madame Demaine told the French doctor that she would nurse you as if you were her own child, and that everything was to be done to make you comfortable. The house is cool, and your wound will have a much better chance of getting well here than in our sick-bay. She wanted to come in to thank you, but I said that, now we had dressed your arm, it was better that you should have nothing to disturb or excite you. When the girl's father returns--and I have no doubt he will do so soon, for as yet, though half-a-dozen boys have been sent down to the town, they have not been able to find him--he must on no account come in to see you at present. Here is a tumbler of fresh lime-juice and water. Doctor Lepel will remain here all night and see that you have everything that you require." The tumbler was held to Nat's lips, and he drained it to the bottom. The drink was iced, and seemed to him the most delicious that he had ever tasted. "I shall come ashore again to see you in the morning. Dr. Lepel will go back with me now, and make up a soothing draught for you both. Remember that above all things it is essential for you to lie quiet. He will put bandages round your body, and fasten the ends to the bedstead so as to prevent you from turning in your sleep." "All right, sir; I can assure you that I have no intention of moving. My arm does not hurt me much now, and I would not set it off aching again for any money." "It is a rum thing," Nat thought to himself, "that I should always be getting into some scrape or other when I go ashore. This is the worst of all by a long way." A negro girl presently came in noiselessly and placed a small table on the right-hand side of the bed. She then brought in a large jug of the same drink that Nat had before taken, and some oranges and limes both peeled and cut up into small pieces. "It is lucky it was not the right arm," Nat said to himself. "I suppose one can do without the left pretty well when one gets accustomed to it, though it would be rather awkward going aloft." In an hour Dr. Lepel returned, and gave him the draught. "Now try and go to sleep," he said in broken English. "I shall lie down on that sofa, and if you wake up be sure and call me. I am a light sleeper." "Had you not better stay with the young lady?" "She will have her mother and her aunt with her, so she will do very well. I hope that you will soon go to sleep." It was but a few minutes before Nat dozed off. Beyond a numbed feeling his arm was not hurting him very much. Once or twice during the night he woke and took a drink. A slight stir in the room aroused him, and to his surprise he found that the sun was already up. The doctor was feeling his pulse, a negro girl was fanning him, and a lady stood at the foot of the bed looking at him pitifully. "Do you speak French, monsieur?" she asked. "A little," he replied, for he had learned French while at school, and since the frigate had been among the West Indian islands he had studied it for a couple of hours a day, as it was the language that was spoken in all the French islands and might be useful to him if put in charge of a prize. "Have you slept well?" she asked. "Very well." "Does your arm hurt you very much now?" "It hurts a bit, ma'am, but nothing to make any fuss about." "You must ask for anything that you want," she said. "I have told off two of my negro girls to wait upon you. Of course they both speak French." Half an hour later Dr. Bemish arrived. "You are going on very well, Glover," he said after feeling the lad's pulse and putting his hand on his forehead. "At present you have no fever. You cannot expect to get through without some, but I hardly expected to find you so comfortable this morning. The captain told me to say that he would come and see you to-day, and I can assure you that there is not one among your mess-mates who is not deeply sorry at what has happened, although they all feel proud of your pluck in fighting that great hound with nothing but a dirk." "They are useless sort of things, doctor, and I cannot think why they give them to us; but it was a far better weapon yesterday than a sword would have been." "Yes, it was. The room is nice and cool, isn't it?" "Wonderfully cool, sir. I was wondering about it before you came in, for it is a great deal cooler than it is on board." "There are four great pans full of ice in the room, and they have got up matting before each of the windows, and are keeping it soaked with water." "That is very good of them, doctor. Please thank Madame Demaine for me. She was in here this morning--at least I suppose it was she--and she did not bother me with thanks, which was a great comfort. You are not going to take these bandages off and put them on again, I hope?" "Oh, no. We may loosen them a little when inflammation sets in, which it is sure to do sooner or later." Captain Crosbie came to see Nat that afternoon. "Well, my lad," he said cheerfully, "I see that you have fallen into good hands, and I am sure that everything that is possible will be done for you. I was talking to the girl's mother and aunt before I came in. Their gratitude to you is quite touching, and they are lamenting that Dr. Bemish has given the strictest orders that they are not to say anything more about it. And now I must not stay and talk; the doctor gave me only two minutes to be in the room with you. I don't know whether the frigate is likely to put in here again soon, but I will take care to let you know from time to time what we are doing and where we are likely to be, so that you can rejoin when the doctor here gives you leave; but mind, you are not to dream of attempting it until he does so, and you must be a discontented spirit indeed if you are not willing to stay for a time in such surroundings. Good-bye, lad! I sincerely trust that it will not be very long before you rejoin us, and I can assure you of a hearty welcome from officers and men." Three days later, fever set in, but, thanks to the coolness of the room and to the bandages being constantly moistened with iced water, it passed away in the course of a week. For two or three days Nat was light-headed, but he woke one morning feeling strangely weak. It was some minutes before he could remember where he was or how he had got there, but a sharp twinge in his arm brought the facts home to him. "Thank God that you are better, my brave boy," a voice said in French, as a cool hand was placed on his forehead; and turning his head Nat saw a lady standing by his bedside. She was not the one whom he had seen before; tears were streaming down her cheeks, and, evidently unable to speak, she hurried from the room, and a minute later Doctor Lepel entered. "Madame Duchesne has given me the good news that you are better," he said. "I had just driven up to the door when she ran down." "Have I been very bad, doctor?" "Well, you have been pretty bad, my lad, and have been light-headed for the past three or four days, and I did not for a moment expect that you would come round so soon. You must have a magnificent constitution, for most men, even if they recovered at all from such terrible wounds as you have had, would probably have been three or four times as long before the fever had run its course." "And how is the young lady?" "She is going on well, and I intended to give permission for her to be carried home in a hammock to-day, but when I spoke of it yesterday to her mother, she said that nothing would induce her to go until you were out of danger. She or Madame Demaine have not left your bedside for the past week, and next to your own good constitution you owe your rapid recovery to their care. I have no doubt that she will go home now, and you are to be moved to Monsieur Duchesne's house as soon as you are strong enough. It lies up among the hills, and the change and cooler air will do you good." "I have not felt it hot here, doctor, thanks to the care that they have taken in keeping the room cool. I hope now that there is no fear of my losing my arm?" "No; I think that I can promise you that. In a day or two I shall re-bandage it, and I shall then be able to see how the wounds are getting on; but there can be no doubt that they are doing well, or you would never have shaken off the fever so soon as you have done." "Of course the _Orpheus_ has sailed, doctor?" "Yes. She put to sea a week ago. I have a letter here that the captain gave me to hand to you when you were fit to read it. I should not open it now if I were you. You are very weak, and sleep is the best medicine for you. Now, drink a little of this fresh lime-juice. I have no doubt that you will doze off again." Almost before the door closed on the doctor Nat was asleep. A fortnight later he was able to get up and sit in an easy-chair. "How long shall I have to keep these bandages on, doctor?" "I should say in another fortnight or so you might take them off the forearm, for the bones seem to have knit there, but it would be better that you should wear them for another month or six weeks. There would indeed be no use in taking them off earlier, for the bandages on the shoulder and the fracture below it cannot be removed for some time, and you will have to carry your arm in a sling for another three months. I do not mean that you may not move your arm before that, indeed it is desirable that you should do so, but the action must be quiet and simple, and done methodically, and the sling will be necessary at other times to prevent sudden jerks." "But I shall be able to go away and join my ship before that, surely?" "Yes, if the arm goes on as well as at present you may be able to do so in a month's time; only you will have to be very careful. You must remember that a fall, or even a lurch against the rail, or a slip in going down below, or anything of that kind, might very well undo our work, for it must be some time before the newly-formed bone is as strong as the old. As I told you the other day, your arm will be some two inches shorter than it was." "That won't matter a rap," Nat said. That afternoon Nat had to submit to what he had dreaded. The doctor had pronounced that he was now quite convalescent, and that there was no fear whatever of a relapse, and Monsieur and Madame Duchesne therefore came over to see him. He had seen the latter but once, and then only for a minute, for she found herself unable to observe the condition on which alone the doctor had allowed her to enter, namely, to repress all emotion. Madame Demaine came in with them. Since her niece had been taken away, she had spent much of her time in Nat's room, talking quietly to him about his English home or his ship, and sometimes reading aloud to him, but studiously avoiding any allusion to the accident. Monsieur Duchesne was a man of some thirty-five years of age, his wife was about five years younger, and they were an exceptionally handsome couple of the best French type. Madame Duchesne pressed forward before the others, and to Nat's embarrassment bent over him and kissed him. "You cannot tell how we have longed for this time to come," she said. "It seemed so cold and ungrateful that for a whole month we should have said no word of thanks to you for saving our darling's life, but the doctor would not allow it. He said that the smallest excitement might bring on the fever again, so we have been obliged to abstain. Now he has given us leave to come, and now we have come, what can we say to you? Ah, monsieur, it was our only child that you saved, the joy of our lives! Think of the grief into which we should have been plunged by her loss, and you can then imagine the depth of our gratitude to you." While she was speaking her husband had taken Nat's right hand and pressed it silently. There were tears in his eyes, and his lips quivered with emotion. "Pray do not say anything more about it, madam," Nat said. "Of course I am very glad to have saved your daughter's life, but anyone else would have done the same. You don't suppose that anyone could stand by and see a girl mauled by a dog without rushing forward to save her, even if he had had no arm of any kind, while I had my dirk, which was about as good a weapon for that sort of thing as one could want. Why, Harpur, our youngest middy, who is only fourteen, would have done it. Of course I have had a good deal of pain, but I would have borne twice as much for the sake of the pleasure I feel in having saved your daughter's life, and I am sure that I have had a very nice time of it since I have begun to get better. Madame Demaine has been awfully good to me. If she had been my own mother she could not have been kinder. I felt quite ashamed of being so much trouble to her, and of being fanned and petted as if I had been a sick girl. And how is your daughter getting on? The doctor gave me a very good account of her, but you know one can't always quite believe doctors; they like to say pleasant things to you so as not to upset you." "She is getting on very well indeed. Of course she has her arm in a sling still, but she is going about the house, and is quite merry and bright again. She wanted to come over with us to-day, but Dr. Lepel would not have it. He said that a sudden jolt over a stone might do a good deal of mischief. However, it will not be long before she sees you, for we have got leave to have you carried over early next week." CHAPTER II REJOINED Four days later Monsieur Duchesne came down with six negroes and a cane lounging chair, on each side of which a long pole had been securely lashed. Nat's room was on the ground floor, and with wide windows opening to the ground. The chair was brought in. Nat was still shaky on his legs, but he was able to get from the bed into the chair without assistance. "I shall come over to see you to-morrow," Madame Demaine said, as he thanked her and her husband for their great kindness to him, "and I hope I shall find that the journey has done you no harm." Four of the negroes took the ends of the poles and raised them onto their shoulders, the other two walked behind to serve as a relay. Monsieur Duchesne mounted his horse and took his place by Nat's side, and the little procession started. The motion was very easy and gentle. It was late in the afternoon when they started, the sun was near the horizon, and a gentle breeze from the sea had sprung up. In half an hour it was dusk, and the two spare negroes lighted torches they had brought with them, and now walked ahead of the bearers. It was full moon, and after having been so long confined in a semi-darkened room, Nat enjoyed intensely the soft air, the dark sky spangled with stars, and the rich tropical foliage showing its outlines clearly in the moonlight. Presently Monsieur Duchesne said: "I have a flask of brandy and water with me, Mr. Glover, in case you should feel faint or exhausted." Nat laughed. "Thank you for thinking of it, monsieur, but there is no fatigue whatever in sitting here, and I have enjoyed my ride intensely. It is almost worth getting hurt in order to have such pleasure: we don't get such nights as this in England." "But you have fine weather sometimes, surely?" Monsieur Duchesne said. "Oh yes, we often have fine weather, but there are not many nights in the year when one can sit out-of-doors after dark! When it is a warm night there are sure to be heavy dews; besides, the stars are not so bright with us as they are here, nor is the air so soft. I don't mean to say that I don't like our climate better; we never have it so desperately hot as you do, and besides, we like the cold, because it braces one up, and even the rain is welcome as a change, occasionally. Still, I allow that as far as nights go you beat us hollow." The road presently began to rise, and before they reached the end of the journey they were high above the plain. As they approached the house the negroes broke into a song, and on their stopping before the wide verandah that surrounded the house, Madame Duchesne and her daughter were standing there to greet them as the bearers gently lowered the chair to the ground. The girl was first beside it. "Ah, monsieur," she exclaimed as she took his hand, "how grateful I am to you! how I have longed to see you! for I have never seen you yet; and it has seemed hard to me that while aunt and the doctor should have seen you so often, and even mamma should have seen you once, I should never have seen you at all." "There is not much to see in me at the best of times, mademoiselle," Nat said as he rose to his feet, "and I am almost a scarecrow now. I wanted to see you, too, just to see what you were like, you know." He took the arm that Monsieur Duchesne offered him, for although he could have walked that short distance unaided, he did not know the ground, and might have stumbled over something. They went straight from the verandah into a pretty room lighted by a dozen wax candles. He sat down in a chair that was there in readiness for him. The girl placed herself in front of him and looked earnestly at him. "Well," he said with a laugh, "am I at all like what you pictured me?" "You are not a scarecrow at all!" she said indignantly. "Why do you say such things of yourself? Of course you are thin, very thin, but even now you look nice. I think you are just what I thought you would be. Now, am I like what you thought I should be?" "I don't know that I ever attempted to think exactly what you would be," Nat said. "I did not notice your face; I don't even know whether it was turned my way. I did take in that you were a girl somewhere about thirteen years old, but as soon as the dog turned, my attention was pretty fully occupied. Madame Demaine said your name was Myra. I thought that with such a pretty name you ought to be pretty too. I suppose it is rude to say so, but you certainly are, mademoiselle." The girl laughed. "It is not rude at all; and please you are to call me Myra and not mademoiselle. Now, you must get strong as soon as you can. Mamma said I might act as your guide, and show you about the plantation, and the slave houses, and everywhere. I have never had a boy friend, and I should think it was very nice." "My dear," her mother said with a smile, "it is not altogether discreet for a young lady to talk in that way." "Ah! but I am not a young lady yet, mamma, and I think it is much nicer to be a girl and to be able to say what one likes. And you are an officer, Monsieur Glover!" "Well, if I am to call you Myra, you must call me Nat. Monsieur Glover is ridiculous." "You are very young to be an officer," the girl said. "Oh, I have been an officer for more than two years," he said. "I was only fourteen when I joined, and I am nearly sixteen now." "And have you been in battles?" "Not in a regular battle. You see England is not at war now with anyone, but I have been in two or three fights with pirates and that sort of thing." "And now, Myra, you must not talk any more," her father said. "You know the doctor gave strict orders that he was to go to bed as soon as he arrived here." At this moment the door opened and a slave girl brought in a basin of strong broth. "Well, you may stop to take that." Nat spent a delightful month at Monsieur Duchesne's plantation. For the first few days he lay in a hammock beneath a shady tree, then he began to walk, at first only for a few minutes, but every day his strength increased. At the end of a fortnight he could walk half a mile, and by the time the month was up he was able to wander about with Myra all over the plantation. Monsieur Duchesne, on his return one day from town, brought a letter for him. It was from the captain himself: _Dear Mr. Glover,--I hope you are getting on well, and are by this time on your legs again. As far as I can see, we are not likely to be at Cape François again for some time, therefore, when you feel quite strong enough, you had better take passage in a craft bound for Jamaica, which is likely to be our head-quarters for some time. Of course if we are away, you will wait till our return. I have spoken to a friend of mine, Mr. Cummings--his plantation lies high up among the hills--and he has kindly invited you to make his place your home till we return, and it will be very much better for you to be in the pure air up there than in this pestilential place._ Nat would have started the next day, but his host insisted upon his staying for another week. "You are getting on so well," M. Duchesne said, "that it would be folly indeed to risk throwing yourself back. Every day is making an improvement in you, and a week will make a great difference." At the end of that week the planter, seeing that Nat was really anxious to rejoin his ship, brought back the news that a vessel in port would sail for Port Royal in two days. "I have engaged a cabin for you," he said, "for although we shall be sorry indeed to lose you, I know that you want to be off." "It is not that I want to be off, sir, for I was never happier in all my life, but I feel that I ought to go. It is likely enough that the ship may be short of middies, one or two may be away in prizes, and it will be strange if no one falls sick while they are lying in Port Royal. It would be ungrateful indeed if I wanted to leave you when you are all so wonderfully kind to me." M. Duchesne drove Nat down to the port the next morning. The midshipman as he left the house felt quite unmanned, for Myra had cried undisguisedly, and Madame Duchesne was also much moved. They passed M. Demaine's house without stopping, as he and his wife had spent the previous evening at the Duchesnes', and had there said good-bye to him. "It is quite time that I was out of this," Nat said to himself as he leaned on the rail and looked back at the port. "That sort of life is awfully nice for a time, but it would soon make a fellow so lazy and soft that he would be of no use on board ship. Of course it was all right for a bit, but since I began to use my arm a little, I have wanted to do something. Still, it would have been no good leaving before, for my arm is of no real use yet, and the doctor said that I ought to carry it in a sling for at least another month. But I am sure I ought to feel very grateful to our doctor and Lepel, for I expect I should have lost it altogether if they hadn't taken such pains with it at first. Well, it will be very jolly getting back again. I only hope that the captain won't be wanting to treat me as an invalid." To Nat's delight he saw, as he entered Port Royal, the _Orpheus_ lying there, and without landing he hailed a boat and went on board. As soon as he was made out there was quite a commotion on board the frigate among the sailors on deck and at the side, while those below looked out of the port-holes, and a burst of cheering rose from all as the boat came alongside. As he came up on to the deck the midshipmen crowded round, shaking him by the hand; and when he went to the quarter-deck to report his return, the lieutenants greeted him as heartily. The captain was on shore. Nat was confused and abashed at the warmth of their greeting. "It is perfectly ridiculous!" he said almost angrily, as he rejoined the midshipmen; "as if there was anything extraordinary in a fellow fighting a dog!" "It depends upon the size of the dog and the size of the fellow," Needham, the senior midshipman, said, "and also how he got into the fight." "The fact is, Needham, if I had killed the dog with the first stroke of my dirk nobody would have thought anything about the matter, and it is just because I could not do so, and therefore got badly mauled before I managed it, that all this fuss is made! It would have been much more to the point if you had all grumbled, when I came on board, at my being nursed and coddled, while you had to do my duty between you, just because I was such a duffer that I was a couple of minutes in killing the dog instead of managing it at once." "Well, we might have done so if we had thought of it, but, you see, we did not look at it in that light, Nat," Needham laughed; "there is certainly a good deal in what you say. However, I shall in future look upon my dirk as being of more use than I have hitherto thought; I have always considered it the most absurd weapon that was ever put into anyone's hand to use in action. Not, of course, that one does use it, for one always gets hold of a cutlass when there is fighting to be done. How anyone can ever have had the idea of making a midshipman carry about a thing little better than a pocket-knife, and how they have kept on doing so for years and years, is most astonishing! For the lords of the admiralty must all have been midshipmen themselves at one time, and must have hated the beastly things just as much as we do. If they think a full-sized sword too heavy for us--which it certainly isn't for the seniors--they might give us rapiers, which are no weight to speak of, and would be really useful weapons if we were taught to use them properly. "Well, we won't say anything more about your affair, Nat, if you don't like it; but we sha'n't think any the less, because we are all proud of you, and whatever you may say, it was a very plucky action. I know that I would rather stand up against the biggest Frenchman than face one of those savage hounds. And how is the arm going on? I see you still have the arm of your jacket snipped open and tied up with ribbons, and you keep it in a sling." "Yes; the doctor made such a point of it that I was obliged to promise to wear it until Bemish gives me permission to lay it aside." He took it out of the sling and moved it about. "You see I have got the use of it, though I own I have very little strength as yet; still, I manage to use it at meals, which is a comfort. It was hateful being obliged to have my grub cut up for me. How long have you been in harbour here?" "Three days; and you are in luck to find us here, for I hear that we are off again to-morrow morning. You have missed nothing while you have been away, for we haven't picked up a single prize beyond a little slaver with a hundred niggers on board." When the captain came off two hours later with Dr. Bemish he sent for Nat. "I am heartily glad to see you back again, Mr. Glover, and to see you looking so vastly better than when I saw you last; in fact, you look nearly as well as you did before that encounter." "I have had nothing to do but to eat, sir." "Well, the question is, how is your arm?" "It is not very strong yet, sir, but I could really do very well without this sling." "Well, you see I have to decide whether you had better go up to the hills until we return from our next cruise or take you with us." "Please, sir, I would much rather go with you." "Yes; it is not a question of what you like best, but what the doctor thinks best for you. You had better go to him at once, he will examine your arm and report to me, and of course we must act on his decision." Nat went straight to the doctor. "Well, you are looking better than I expected," the latter said, holding the lad at arm's-length and looking him up and down; "flesh a good deal more flabby than it used to be--want of exercise, of course, and the result of being looked after by women. Now, lad, take off your shirt and let me have a regular examination." He moved the arm in different directions, felt very carefully along each bone, pressing rather hard at the points where these had been broken, and asking Nat if it hurt him. He replied "No" without hesitation, as long as the doctor was feeling the forearm, but when he came to the upper-arm and shoulder he was obliged to acknowledge that the pressure gave him a bit of a twinge. "Yes, it could hardly be otherwise," the doctor said; "however, there is no doubt we made a pretty good job of it. Stretch both arms out in front of you and bring the fingers together. Yes, that is just what I expected, it is some two and a half inches shorter than the other; but no one will be likely to notice it." "Don't you think, doctor, that I can go to sea now? The captain said that you would have to decide." "I think a month up in the hills would be a very desirable thing, Glover. The bones have knit very well, but it would not take much to break them again." "I have had quite enough of plantations for the present, doctor, and I do think that sea air would do me more good than anything. I am sure I feel better already for the run from Cape François here." The doctor smiled. "Well, you see, if you did remain on board you would be out of everything. You certainly would not be fit for boat service, you must see that yourself." "I can't say that I do, sir; one fights with one's right arm and not with one's left." "That is so, lad, but you might get hit on the left arm as well as the right. Besides, even on board, you might get hurt while skylarking." "I would indeed be most careful, doctor." "Well, we will see about it, and talk it over with the captain." All that evening Nat was in a state of alarm whenever anyone came with a message to any of his mess-mates; but when it was almost the hour for lights out he turned into his hammock with great satisfaction, feeling sure that if it had been decided that he must go ashore next morning a message to that effect would have been sent to him. The sound of the boatswain's whistle, followed by the call "All hands to make sail!" settled the question. He had already dressed himself with Needham's assistance, but had remained below lest, if the captain's eye fell on him, he might be sent ashore. As soon, however, as he heard the order he felt sure that all was right, and went up on deck. Here he took up his usual station, passing orders forward and watching the men at work, until the vessel was under sail. The want of success on the last cruise made all hands even keener than usual to pick up something worth capturing. "I suppose there is no clue as to the whereabouts of those three pirates," he said to Needham as the latter, after the vessel was fairly under weigh, joined him. "No; twice we had information from the captains of small craft that they had seen suspicious sail in the distance, but there is no doubt that the niggers had been either bribed or frightened into telling us the story, for in each case, though we remained a fortnight cruising about, we have never caught sight of a suspicious sail. When we returned here we found to our disgust that they must have been at work hundreds of miles away, as several ships were missing, and one that came in had been hotly chased by them, but being a fast sailer escaped by the skin of her teeth. That is the worst of these negroes, one can never believe them, and I think the best way would be when anyone came and told a yarn, to go and cruise exactly in the opposite direction to that in which he tells us he has seen the pirates." "It is a pity we cannot punish some of these fellows who give false news," Nat said. "Yes; but the difficulty is proving that it is false. In the first place, one of these native craft is so much like another that one would not recognize it again; besides, you may be sure that the rascals would give Port Royal a wide berth for a time. On our last cruise we did take with us the negro who brought the news, but that made the case no better. He pretended, of course, to be as anxious as anyone that the pirates should be caught, and as he stuck to his story that he had seen a rakish schooner where he said he did, there was no proof that he was lying, and he pretended to be terribly cut up at not getting the reward promised him if he came across them. "I have no doubt that he was lying, but there was no way of proving it. You see, the idea of getting hold of a trader and fitting her up with a few guns and some men is all well enough when you have only got to deal with a single schooner or brigantine, but it would be catching a tartar if these three scoundrels were to come upon her at once. Of course they are all heavily armed and carry any number of men, nothing short of the frigate herself would be a match for them. And one thing is certain, we can't disguise her to look like a merchantman. Do what we would, the veriest landlubber would make her out to be what she is, and you may be sure the pirates would know her to be a ship of war as soon as they got a sight of her topsails." "You have not heard, I suppose, where our cruising ground is going to be this time?" Nat asked. "No, and I don't suppose we shall know for a few hours. You may be sure that whatever course we take now will not be our real course, for I bet odds that after dark some fast little craft will sneak out of harbour to take the pirates news as to the course we are following, and to tell them that we have not taken a negro this time who would lead us a dance in the wrong direction. I should not be surprised if we are going to search the islands round Cuba for a change. We were among the bays and islets up north on our last cruise, and the captain may be determined to try fresh ground." Needham's guess turned out to be correct, for after darkness fell the ship's course was changed, and her head laid towards Cuba. After cruising for nearly three weeks without success, they were passing along the coast of the mainland, when Nat, who had now given up his sling, went aloft with his telescope. Every eye on deck was turned towards the island, but their continued failures had lessened the eagerness with which they scanned the shore, and, as there was no sign of any break in its outline, it was more from habit than from any hope of seeing anything that they looked at the rugged cliffs that rose forty or fifty feet perpendicularly above the water's edge, and at the forest stretching up the hillsides behind them. "You have seen nothing, I suppose, Tom?" he asked the sailor stationed in the main-top. "Not a thing, Mr. Glover." Nat continued his way up, and took his seat on the yard of the topsail. Leaning back against the mast, he brought his telescope to bear upon the land, and for half an hour scanned every rock and tree. At last something caught his eye. "Come up here, Tom," he called to the sailor below. "Look there, you see that black streak on the face of the cliff?" "I see it, yer honour." "Well, look above the first line of trees exactly over it: isn't that a pole with a truck on the top of it?" "You are right, sir! you are right!" the sailor said, as he got the glass to bear upon the object Nat had indicated, "that is the upper spar of a vessel of some sort, sure enough." "On deck there!" Nat shouted. "What is it, Mr. Glover?" the first lieutenant answered. "I can make out the upper spar of a craft in among the trees over there, sir." "You are sure that you are not mistaken?" "Quite sure, sir. With the glass I can make out the truck quite distinctly. It is certainly either the upper spar of a craft of some kind or a flag-staff, of course I cannot say which." The first lieutenant himself ran up the ratlines and joined Nat. The breeze was very light, and the _Orpheus_ was scarcely moving through the water. Nat handed his telescope to Mr. Hill. "There, sir, it is about a yard to the west of that black streak on the rock." "I see it," the lieutenant exclaimed after a long gaze at the shore. "You are right, it must be, as you say, either the spar of a ship or a flag-staff; though how a ship could get in there is more than I can say. There, it has gone now!" "The trees were rather lower at the point where we saw it, and the higher trees have shut it in." He descended to the deck followed by Nat. "Well, what do you make of it, Mr. Hill?" enquired the captain, who had come out of his cabin on hearing Nat's hail. "There is no doubt that Mr. Glover is right, sir, and that it is the upper spar of a craft of some kind, unless it is a flag-staff on shore, and it is hardly the sort of place in which you would expect to find a flag-staff. It is a marvel Mr. Glover made it out, for even with his glass I had a great difficulty in finding it, though he gave me the exact bearing." "Thank you, Mr. Glover," the captain said. "At last there seems a chance of our picking up a prize this cruise. The question is, how did she get there?" "I am pretty sure that we have passed no opening, sir. I have been aloft for the past half-hour, and have made out no break in the rocks." "That is quite possible," the captain said, "and yet it may be there. We are a good three-quarters of a mile off the shore, and some of these inlets are so narrow, and the rocks so much the same colour, that unless one knows the entrance is there, one would never suspect it. At any rate we will hold on as we are for a bit." The hail had set everyone on deck on the _qui vive_, and a dozen telescopes were turned upon the shore. "Unlikely as it seems, Mr. Hill," the captain said, after they had gone on half a mile without discovering any break in the line of rock, "I am afraid that it must have been a flag-staff that you saw. There may be some plantation there, and the owner may have had one put up in the front of his house. However, it will be worth while to lower a boat and row back along the foot of the cliff for a mile or so, and then a mile ahead of us; if there is an opening we shall be sure to find it. Tell Mr. Playford to take the gig; Mr. Glover can go with him as he is the discoverer." The boat was lowered at once, and as soon as the officers had taken their place the six men who composed the crew bent their backs to the oars, the coxswain making for a point on the shore about a mile astern of the frigate, which was lying almost becalmed. The men had taken muskets and cutlasses with them, for it was probable enough that a watch might have been set on the cliff, and that, should there be an inlet, a boat might be lying there ready to pounce out upon them as soon as they reached it. Every eye was fixed upon the boat as she turned and rowed along within fifty yards of the foot of the rocks. "I thought I could not have been so blind as to pass the entrance without seeing it," one of the sailors who had been on watch aloft said, in a tone of satisfaction. "Now, I don't mind how soon the boat finds a gap." But when the boat had paddled on for another mile without a pause, a look of doubt and dissatisfaction showed itself on every face. "You are quite sure, Mr. Hill," the captain asked, "that it was a staff of some kind that you saw, and not, perhaps, the top of a dead tree whose bark had peeled off?" "I am quite certain, sir. It was too straight and even for rough wood; and I made out a truck distinctly: but it is certainly strange that no entrance should be discovered. I am afraid that 'tis but a flag-staff after all." "I can hardly imagine that," the captain said. "I have often seen flag-staffs in front of plantation houses, but never one so high as this must be to show over the trees. If it had been nearer to the edge of the cliff it might have been a signal-post, but they would hardly put it a mile back from the edge of the cliff and bury it among trees. At any rate, if we find no entrance I will send a landing-party ashore to see what it really is, that is to say if we can find any place where the cliff can be scaled." "What is it, Mr. Needham?" as the midshipman came up and touched his hat. "The boat is rowing in to shore, sir." The two officers went to the side. "They have either found an entrance or some point at which the rock can be scaled--Ah, there they go!" he went on, as the boat disappeared from sight, "though from here there is no appearance whatever of an opening." It was some minutes before the boat again appeared. It was at once headed for the frigate. "Mr. Playford has news for us of some sort," the captain said, "the men are rowing hard." In a few minutes the boat came alongside. The second officer ran up the accommodation ladder. "Well, Mr. Playford, what is your news?" "There is an inlet, sir, though if we had not been close in to those rocks I should never have noticed it. It runs almost parallel with the coast for a quarter of a mile. I thought at first that it ended there, but it makes a sharp angle to the south-east, and continues for a mile or so, and at the other end there is a large schooner, I have no doubt a slaver. I fancy they are landing the slaves now. There is a barracoon on the shore and some storehouses." "Did they see you?" "No, sir; at least I don't think so. Directly I saw that the passage was going to make a turn, I went close in to the rocks on the other side, and brought up at the corner where I could get a view without there being much fear of our being seen, and indeed I don't think that it would have been possible to make us out unless someone had been watching with a glass." "We shall soon know whether they saw you, Mr. Playford. If they did they will probably set all hands to work to tow the schooner out, for though there is not wind enough to give us steerage-way, these slavers will slip along under the slightest breath. They can hardly have made the frigate out. They probably thought the hiding-place so secure that they did not even put a watch on the cliffs. Of course if there was anyone up there they could have seen the boat leave our side, and would have watched her all along. "Did you see any place at which the cliff could be climbed?" "No, sir, and up to the turn the rocks are just as steep inside as they are here, but beyond that the inlet widens out a good deal and the banks slope gradually, and a landing could be effected anywhere there, I should say." "We will send the boats in as soon as it gets dark, Mr. Hill. If they saw us coming they would drive off the slaves into the woods before we could get there, so the best plan will be to land a strong party at the bend, so that they can get down to the barracoon at the same time that the others board the schooner. No doubt this is a regular nest of slave-traders. It has long been suspected that there was some depot on this side of the island. It has often been observed that slavers when first made out were heading in this direction, and more than once craft that were chased, and, as it seemed, certain to be caught in the morning, have mysteriously disappeared. This hiding-place accounts for it. "You did not ascertain what depth of water there was at the mouth of the creek, Mr. Playford?" "Yes, sir, I sounded right across with the boat's grapnel; there is nowhere more than two and a half fathoms, but it is just about that depth right across." "Then it is evident that we cannot take the frigate in. What is the width at the mouth?" "About thirty yards." An hour later the _Orpheus_ anchored opposite the mouth of the inlet, which, however, was still invisible. "I think that, as this may be an important capture, Mr. Hill, it would be as well for you to go in charge of the boats. Mr. Playford will take the command of the landing-party. I should say that twenty marines, under Lieutenant Boldero, and as many blue-jackets, would be ample for that. He had better take the long-boat and one of the gigs, while you take the launch, the pinnace, and the other gig. If they have made us out, we may expect a very tough resistance, and it may be that, although Mr. Playford saw nothing of them, they may have a couple of batteries higher up." "Likely enough, sir." "You had better let the landing-party have a start of you, so that if they should unmask a battery on the side on which they are, they can rush down at once and silence it." "Very good, sir." The sun was now approaching the horizon; as soon as it dipped behind it the boats were lowered, and the sailors, who had already made all preparations, at once took their places in them. Needham was in command of the gig that carried a portion of the landing-party, Nat was in charge of the other gig, and Low was in charge of the pinnace, Mr. Hill going in the launch. Nat had first been told off to the gig now commanded by Needham, but the captain said to the first lieutenant, "You had better take Glover with you, Mr. Hill, and let Needham go with Mr. Playford. Scrambling along on the shore in the dark, one might very well get a heavy fall, and it is as well that Glover should not risk breaking his arm again." CHAPTER III A SLAVE DEPOT Night fell rapidly as soon as the sun had set, and by the time the boats reached the mouth of the inlet it was already dark. The two boats under the second officer entered first, rowed up the inlet to the bend, and landed the marines and sailors on the opposite side; the boarding-party lay on their oars for five minutes and then followed. The oars were muffled, and the men ordered to row as noiselessly as they could, following each other closely, and keeping under the left bank. They were about half-way up when the word "Fire!" was shouted in Spanish, and six guns were simultaneously discharged. Had the Spaniards waited a few seconds longer, the three boats would all have been in line with the guns. As it was, a storm of grape sent the water splashing up ahead of the pinnace, which, however, received the contents of the gun nearest to them. It was aimed a little low, and fortunately for the crew the shot had not yet begun to scatter, and the whole charge struck the boat just at the water-level, knocking a great hole in her. "We are sinking, Mr. Hill," Low said. "Will you come alongside and pick us up?" Although the launch was but a length behind, the gunwale of the pinnace was nearly level with the water as she came alongside. Its occupants were helped on board the launch, which at once held on her way. Half a minute later six guns were fired from the opposite bank. The boats were so close under the shore that their position could not be made out with any certainty. Three men were hit by the grapeshot, but beyond this there were no casualties. "Keep in as much as you dare," Mr. Hill said to the coxswain; "the battery opposite will be loaded again in a couple of minutes, but as long as we keep in the shadow of the shore their shooting will be wild." The battery, indeed, soon began to fire again, irregularly, as the guns were loaded. The shot tore up the water ahead and astern of the boats, but it was evident that those at the guns could not make out their precise position. Another five minutes and the boats were headed for the schooner. "You board at the bow, Mr. Glover, I will make for her quarter. Now, lay out, lads, as hard as you can, the sooner you are there the less chance you have of being hit." A moment later a great clamour arose behind them. First came a British cheer; then rapid discharges of pistols and muskets, mingled with the clash of cutlasses and swords; a minute or two later this ceased, and the loud cheer of the marines and seamen told those in the boats that they had carried the battery. The diversion was useful to the boats. Until now the slavers had been ignorant that a party of foes had landed, and the fact that a barracoon full of slaves, and the storehouses, were already threatened, caused something like consternation among them. The consequence was that they fired hastily and without taking time to aim. Before they could load again the boats were alongside, unchecked for an instant by the musketry fire which broke out from the deck of the schooner as soon as cannon had been discharged. Boarding-nettings had been run up, but holes were soon chopped in these by the sailors. Headed by Nat, the crew of the gig leapt down on to the deck, for the greater part of the slaver's crew ran aft to oppose what they considered the more dangerous attack made by the occupants of the crowded launch. The defence was successfully maintained until the crew of the gig, keeping close together and brushing aside the resistance of the few men forward, flung themselves upon the main body of the slavers, and with pistol and cutlass hewed their way through them till abreast of the launch. The slavers attacked them furiously, and would speedily have annihilated them, but the crew of the launch, led by Mr. Hill, came swarming over the bulwarks, and, taking the offensive, drove the slavers forward, where, seeing that all was lost, they sprang overboard, striking out for the shore to the right. Severe fighting was now going on opposite the schooner, where the landing-party were evidently attacking the barracoon and storehouses. [Illustration: "HEADED BY NAT, THE CREW OF THE GIG LEAPT DOWN ON TO THE DECK."] "To the boats, men!" Mr. Hill shouted, "our fellows are being hard pressed on shore; Mr. Glover, you with the gig's crew will remain in charge here." Indeed, it was evident that the resistance on shore was much more obstinate than had been expected. Nat stood watching the boat. Just as it reached the shore one of the sailors shouted, "Look out, sir!" and he saw a big mulatto rushing at him with uplifted sword. His cutlass was still in his hand, and throwing himself on guard he caught the blow as it fell upon it, and in return brought his cutlass down on his opponent's cheek. With a howl of pain the man sprang at him, but Nat leaped aside, and his cutlass fell on the right wrist of the mulatto, whose sword dropped from his hand, and, rushing to the side, he threw himself overboard. In the meantime a fierce struggle was going on between the sailors and seven or eight of the slavers who, being unable to swim, had thrown themselves down by the guns and shammed death, as had Nat's antagonist, who was first mate of the schooner. The fight was short but desperate, and one by one the slavers were run through or cut down, but not before three or four of the sailors had received severe wounds. "Get a lantern, mate," one of these growled, "and see that there are no more of these skulking hounds alive." The sailors, furious at what they considered treachery, fetched a light that was burning in the captain's cabin, and without mercy ran through two or three unwounded men whom they found hiding among the fallen. It was soon clear that the reinforcement that had landed had completely turned the tables. Gradually the din rolled away from the neighbourhood of the storehouses, there was some sharp firing as the enemy fled towards the wood behind, and then all was quiet. Presently there was a shout in Mr. Hill's voice from the shore: "Schooner ahoy!" "Ay, ay, sir." "Load with grape, Mr. Glover, and send a round or two occasionally into that wood behind the houses; I am going to leave thirty men here under Mr. Playford, and to take the rest over to the opposite side and carry the battery there." "Ay, ay, sir." And as the guns pointing on that side had not been discharged, he at once opened fire on the wood. A minute later the launch and gig rowed past the schooner and soon reached the opposite side. Ten minutes passed without any sound of conflict being heard, and Nat had no doubt that the battery had been found deserted. It was not long before the boats were seen returning. They rowed this time to the schooner. "Mr. Glover," the first lieutenant said as he reached the deck, "do you lower the schooner's cutter, put all the wounded on board, take four of your men and row out to the frigate and report to the captain what has taken place. Tell him that Mr. Playford carried the battery on the right in spite of the guns, and that I have spiked those in the battery on the left, which I found deserted. Say that we have had a sharp fight on shore with a large number of negroes led by two or three white men and some mulattoes, and that I believe there must be some large plantations close at hand whose owners are in league with the slavers. You can say that we found a hundred and twenty slaves in the barracoon, evidently newly landed from the schooner, and that I intend to find the plantations and give them a lesson in the morning. How many wounded have you here?" "There are fourteen altogether, sir; ten of them were wounded in the first attack, and four have been wounded since by some of the slavers who shammed death." "There are eight more in the launch, happily we have only two men killed. You had better give all the wounded a drink of water; I have a flask, and I dare say you have one: empty them both into the bucket." There was a barrel half full of water on deck; a bucketful of this was drawn, and the two flasks of spirits emptied into it, and a mug of the mixture given to each of the wounded men. They were then assisted down into the schooner's boat; four of the gig's crew took their places in it, and Nat, taking the tiller, told them to row on. Half an hour later they came alongside the frigate. A sailor ran down the ladder with a lantern. Nat stepped out and mounted to the deck. The captain was standing at the gangway. "We have been uneasy about you, Mr. Glover. We heard a number of reports of heavier guns than they were likely to carry on board a slaver, and feared that they came from shore batteries." "Yes, sir, there were two of them mounting six guns each. Mr. Playford, with the landing-party, captured the one on the eastern side; Mr. Hill, after the schooner was taken and the enemy on shore driven off, rowed across and took the other, which he found unoccupied." "What is the loss?" "Only two killed, sir, but there are twenty-two wounded, two or three of them by musket-shots, and the rest cutlass wounds. They are all in the boat below, sir." A party was at once sent down to carry up such of the wounded as were unable to walk. As soon as all were taken below, and the surgeon had begun his work, the captain asked Nat to give him a full account of the proceedings. "I cannot tell you much of what took place ashore, sir," he said, "as Mr. Hill left me in charge of the schooner. After we had carried her, he went ashore with the crews of the launch and pinnace to help Mr. Playford." "Tell me all you know first." Nat related the opening of the two batteries, and how one had been almost immediately captured by Mr. Playford. "So the pinnace was sunk?" "Yes, sir, the enemy's charge struck her between wind and water, and she went down at once; her crew were picked up by the launch. I hear that none of them were injured." Then he told how they had kept under the shelter of the shore, and thus escaped injury from the other battery, and how the schooner had been captured. "It was lucky that your men got a footing forward, Mr. Glover. You did well to lead them aft at once, and thus assist Mr. Hill's party to board." Nat then related the sudden attack by the slavers who had been feigning death. "It was lucky that it was no worse," the captain said. "No doubt they were fellows who couldn't swim, and if there had been a few more it would have gone hard with you. And now about this fight on shore; it can hardly have been the crew of the schooner, for, by the stout resistance they offered, they must have been all on board." "Yes, sir." Nat then gave the message that Mr. Hill had sent. "No doubt, Mr. Glover; I dare say this place has been used by slavers for years. Probably there are some large barracoons where the slaves are generally housed, and planters who want them either come or send from all parts of the island. I will go ashore myself early to-morrow morning. There is no question that this is an important capture, and it will be a great thing to break up this centre of the slave-trade altogether. Now that their hiding-place has once been discovered, they will know that our cruisers will keep a sharp look-out here, and a vessel once bottled up in this inlet has no chance whatever of escape. You can go with me, it is thanks to the sharpness of your eyes that we made the discovery." The sun had not yet shown above the eastern horizon when the captain's gig passed in through the mouth of the inlet, and ten minutes later rowed alongside the wharf in front of the barracoon. "There is another wharf farther along," the captain said; "we may take that as proof that there are often two of these slavers in here at the same time. Ah, there is Mr. Hill! I congratulate you on your success," he went on, as the first lieutenant joined him; "there is no doubt that this has been a regular rendezvous for the scoundrels. It is well that you attacked after dark, for the cross fire of those batteries, aided by that of the schooner, would have knocked the boats into matchwood." "That they would have done, sir. I was very glad when I saw the boat coming, as I thought it was probable that you were on board her, and we are rather in a difficulty." "What is that, Mr. Hill?" "Well, sir, as soon as we had settled matters here we followed the enemy, and found a road running up the valley; and as it was along this that most of the fellows who opposed us had no doubt retreated, I thought it as well to follow them up at once. We had evidently been watched, for a musketry fire was opened upon us from the trees on both sides. I sent Mr. Boldero with the marines to clear them out on the left, and Mr. Playford with twenty seamen to do the same on the right, and then I pressed forward with the rest. Presently a crowd of negroes came rushing down from the front, shouting, and firing muskets. We gave them a volley, and they bolted at once. We ran straight on, and a hundred yards farther up came upon a large clearing. "In the middle stood a house, evidently that of a planter. A short distance off were some houses, probably inhabited by the mulatto overseers, and a few huts for his white overseers, and some distance behind these were four large barracoons. We made straight for these, for we could hear a shouting there, and had no doubt that the mulattoes were trying to get the slaves out and to drive them away into the wood. However, as soon as we came up the fellows bolted. There were about a hundred slaves in each barracoon. No doubt the fellows who attacked us were the regular plantation hands. I suppose the owner of the place made sure that we should be contented with what we had done, and should not go beyond the head of the inlet; and when the firing began again he sent the plantation men down to stop us until he had removed the slaves. I left Mr. Playford in command there, and brought twenty men back here; and I was just going to send off a message to you saying what had taken place, and asking for instructions. You see, with the slaves we found here, we have over five hundred blacks in our hands. That is extremely awkward." "Extremely," the captain said thoughtfully. "Well, I will go back with you and see the place. As to the houses--the plantation house and the barracoons--I shall have no hesitation in destroying them. This is evidently a huge slaving establishment, and, as the blacks and their overseers attacked us, we are perfectly justified in destroying this den altogether. If I could catch their owner I should assuredly hang him. The difficulty is what to do with all these unfortunate creatures; the schooner would not hold more than two hundred if packed as close as herrings. However, the other thing is first to be thought of." Nat followed his commander and the lieutenant to the plantation, or, it should rather be said, to the depot; for the clearing in the valley was but a quarter of a mile long and a few hundred yards wide. It was evident that if the owner had a plantation it was at some distance away, and that the men with whom they had fought were principally mulattoes and negroes employed about the place, and in minding the slaves as they were brought in. They passed straight on to the barracoons. The sailors had already brought the slaves out and knocked off their irons. The poor creatures sat on the ground, evidently bewildered at what had taken place, and uncertain whether they were in the hands of friends or enemies. "Some of the men have found the cauldrons in which food is cooked," Mr. Hill said, "and are now preparing a meal for them; and as we found some hogsheads of molasses and stores of flour and rice they will get a better meal than they are accustomed to. I have set some of the strongest slaves to pump water into those big troughs there; the poor beggars will feel all the better after a wash." "They will indeed. I don't suppose they have had one since they were first captured in Africa." In half an hour a meal was served. As an effort of cooking it could hardly be termed a success, but was a sort of porridge, composed of flour and rice sweetened with molasses. There was some difficulty in serving it out, for only a few mugs and plates were found at the barracoons. These were supplemented by all the plates, dishes, and other utensils in the houses of the owner and overseers. By this time the negroes had been taken in parties of twenties to the troughs, where they had a thorough wash. "This is all very well, Mr. Hill," the captain said, "but what are we to do with all these people? Of course we must move them down to the water, and burn these buildings, in the first place because the scoundrels who are at the bottom of all this villainy should be punished, and in the second place because in all probability they will collect a large number of negroes and mulattoes and make an attack. We cannot leave a force here that could defend itself; therefore, whatever we decide upon afterwards, it is clear that all the slaves must be taken down to the houses on the inlet. I should set the men to open all the stores, and load the negroes with everything that can be useful. I expect you will find a good deal of cotton cloth and so on, for no doubt the man here dealt in other articles besides slaves, and he would, moreover, keep cottons and that sort of thing for sending them up the country into market. However, take everything that is worth taking in the way of food or otherwise, and carry it down to the storehouses by the water, then set all the houses and sheds here on fire. When you see them well alight you can bring the men down to the shore; then we must settle as to our course. It is a most awkward thing our coming upon all these slaves. If there were only those who had been landed from the schooner there would be no difficulty about it, as we should only have to put them on board again, but with four hundred others on our hands I really don't know how to manage. We might stow a hundred in the frigate, though I own I should not like it." "No, indeed," Mr. Hill murmured; "and four hundred would be out of the question." The captain returned to the inlet and made an examination of the storehouses there. They were for the most part empty. They were six in number, roughly constructed of timber, and some forty feet long by twenty wide, and consisted only of the one floor. They stood ten feet apart. The barracoon was some twenty yards away. In a short time the slaves began to pour in, all--men, women, and children--carrying burdens proportionate to their strength. They had now come to the conclusion that their new captors were really friends, and with the light-heartedness of their race laughed and chattered as if their past sufferings were already forgotten. Mr. Playford saw to the storing of their burdens. These filled one of the storehouses to the roof. There was, as the captain had anticipated, a large quantity of cotton cloth among the spoil. Some of these bales were placed outside the store, twenty of the negroes were told off to cut the stuff up into lengths for clothing, and by mid-day the whole of the slaves were, to their delight, attired in their new wraps. Among the goods that had been brought down were a number of implements and tools--axes, hoes, shovels, and long knives. Captain Crosbie had, by this time, quite made up his mind as to the plan to be pursued. "We must hold this place for a time, Mr. Hill," he said as the latter came down with the last body of sailors, after having seen that all the buildings in the valley were wrapped in flames. "I have been thinking over the question of the slaves, and the only plan that I can see is to go for a two or three day's cruise in the frigate, in hopes of falling in with some native craft with which I can make an arrangement for them to return here with me, and aid in carrying off all these poor creatures. These five storehouses and the barracoon will hold them all pretty comfortably. Two of the storehouses had better be given up to the women and children. We will make a stockade round the buildings, with the ends resting in the water, and get the guns from those batteries and put them in position here. With the help of those on board the schooner, a stout defence can be made to an attack, however formidable. I shall leave Mr. Playford in command with forty men on shore; Mr. Glover will be in charge of the schooner with five-and-twenty more. The frigate will remain for a couple of days at her present anchorage, and I will send as many men as we can spare ashore to help in finishing the work before she sails. "In the first place there must be a barrack run up for the men on shore between the barracoon and the storehouses. It must be made of stout beams. I don't mean squared, but young trees placed side by side so as to be perfectly musket-proof. The palisades should be made of strong saplings, wattled together, say, ten feet high. A hundred and fifty sailors, aided by three hundred and fifty able-bodied negroes, should make quick work of it. The schooner's crew can see to the removal of the guns from the batteries and their establishment upon platforms behind the palisade. I should divide the twelve guns into four batteries, three in each. The armourer shall come off in the morning to get out the spikes, and the carpenters shall come with their tools." "There are a dozen cross-cut saws among the things that we have brought down, sir." "That is good. How many axes are there?" "Four dozen, sir." "Good! I will send all the hatchets we have on board. I think, Mr. Hill, that you had better take up your position on board the schooner until we sail. How about water? That is a most important point." "The slaves have brought down a large number of staves, sir. They are evidently intended for sugar hogsheads; they are done up in separate packets. I should say there were a hundred of them." "That is satisfactory indeed. I will send the cooper ashore, and with a gang of the black fellows he will soon get them all into shape. I see that they have relied upon the stream that comes down from the hills for their supply. One of the first moves of anyone attacking the place would be to divert its course somewhere up in the hills. However, with such a supply as these hogsheads would hold, we could do without the stream for weeks. The twenty marines who came ashore with Lieutenant Boldero will remain as part of the garrison." The work was at once begun. The sailors looked upon it as a pleasant change from the ordinary routine of life on board ship, and threw themselves into it vigorously, while the blacks, as soon as they understood what was wanted, proved themselves most useful assistants. Accustomed in their African homes to palisade their villages, they knew exactly what was required. Some, with their hoes, dug a trench four feet deep; others dragged down the poles as the sailors cut them, erected them in their places, and trod the earth firmly round them. Others cut creepers, or split up suitable wood, and wove them in and out between the poles; and, by the time darkness fell, a surprising amount of work had been accomplished. One of the storehouses was turned over to those who could not be berthed on board the schooner, most of the slaves preferring to sleep in the open air, which to them was a delightful change after being cooped up for weeks in the crowded hold of a ship, or in the no less crowded barracoons. Sentries were posted as soon as it became dark, but the night passed off without an alarm, and at daybreak all were at work again. The launch returned to the frigate when work was knocked off, and came back with a fresh body of men in the morning, and with the carpenters, coopers, and all the available tools on board. By the evening of the third day the work was completed. Four banks of earth had been thrown up by the negroes against the palisade, and on each of these three guns were mounted. The hut for the garrison had been completed. The hogsheads were put together and filled with water, and a couple of hundred boarding-pikes were put ashore for the use of the negroes. Nat had been fully employed, with the schooner's crew, in removing the guns from the batteries, and placing them on the platforms constructed by the carpenters on the top of the earthworks. "It is quite possible," the captain said to Mr. Playford, "that this creek is used by pirates as well as slavers. They may come in here to sell goods they have captured suitable for use in the islands, such as cotton cloths and tools, and which it would not pay them to carry to their regular rendezvous. It will be great luck if one or two of them should put in here while I am away. It would greatly diminish the difficulty we have of getting the slaves away." "That would be fortunate indeed, sir. Even if two came in together we could give a good account of them, for as the palisade is mostly on higher ground than the huts, we should only have to slue the guns round and give them such a warm welcome that they would probably haul down their flags at once." "Yes. You had better tell Mr. Glover to run up the Spanish flag if any doubtful-looking craft is seen to be making for the entrance, and I should always keep a couple of signallers up on the cliff, so as to let you know beforehand what you might have to expect, and to see that there is nothing showing that could excite their suspicions, until it is too late for them to turn back." Doubtless what was going on in the inlet had been closely watched from the woods, for in the evening of the day on which the frigate sailed away scattered shots were fired from the forest, and the sound of the beating of tom-toms and the blowing of horns could be heard in the direction of the plantation whose buildings they had destroyed. The lieutenant had gone off to dine with Nat, and they were sitting on deck smoking their cigars when the firing began. "I almost expected it," he said. "No doubt they have been waiting for the frigate to leave before they did anything, as they would know that at least half of those who have been ashore would re-embark when she left. I have no doubt the scoundrels whose place we burnt have sent to all the planters in this part of the islands to assemble in force to attack us. If they have seen us making the palisade and mounting the guns, as no doubt they have done, they certainly will not venture to assault the place unless they are in very strong force, but they can make it very unpleasant for us. It is not more than eighty yards to the other side of the creek, and from that hill they would completely command us. You will scarcely be able to keep a man on deck, and we shall have to stay in the shelter of the huts. Of course on this side they would scarcely be able to annoy us, for they would have to come down to the edge of the trees to fire, and as we could fire through the palisade upon them they would get the worst of it." "We might row across in the boats, sir, and clear the wood of them if they became too troublesome." "We should run the risk of losing a good many men in doing so, and a good many more as we made our way up through the trees and drove them out, and should gain nothing by it, for as soon as we retired they would reoccupy the position. No; if they get very troublesome I will slue a couple of guns round and occasionally send a round or two of grape among the trees. That will be better than your doing so, because your men at the guns would make an easy mark for them, while we are farther off, and indeed almost out of range of their muskets." The firing soon died away, but in the morning it was reopened, and it was evident that the number in the wood had largely increased. Bullet after bullet struck the deck of the schooner, and Nat was obliged to order the greater part of the crew to remain below, and to see that those who remained on deck kept under the shelter of the bulwark. Presently a sharp fire broke out from the trees facing the palisade, and this was almost immediately replied to by the blue-jackets and marines. The fire of the assailants soon slackened, and Nat thought that it had only been begun with the object of finding out how strong a force had been left behind. Presently two of the guns on shore spoke out, and sent a volley of grape into the wood in which his own assailants were lurking. It had the effect of temporarily silencing the fire from that quarter. This, however, was but for a short time. When it began again it was taken up on the other side also, the party which had made the demonstration against the palisade evidently considering that the schooner, which lay midway between the two shores, was a safer object of attack than the stockade. As the bulwark now offered no shelter, all went below. Two of the men were about to pull up the boat which was lying at the stern, and Nat went to the ladder to take his place in it, when he was hailed from shore. "You had better stay where you are, Mr. Glover, until it gets dusk. You would only be a mark for every man with a musket, up in the trees above us, and, so far as I can see, there is nothing we can do until they begin work in earnest." "Very well, sir," Nat shouted back, "I will come off after it gets dusk." Firing continued all day, but died away at sunset, and soon afterwards Nat went ashore. "This is very awkward," the lieutenant said. "It is most unpleasant being potted at all day by fellows who won't show themselves, but I can't see that we can help it. By the noise and jabbering that breaks out at times, I should think that there must be some hundreds of them on this side alone, and we shall have to wait till they begin in earnest. Their leaders must know that they can be doing us no harm by their distant fire, and they must sooner or later make an attack on us. You see they have a strong temptation. They must have seen that none of the slaves have been taken away, and as there are five hundred of them, and I suppose they are worth from twenty to forty pounds a head, it is a big thing, to say nothing of the stores. Then I have no doubt they are thirsting for revenge, and although they must see that they will have to fight very hard to take the place, they must try without delay, for they will know that the frigate will be back again before very long, and will probably bring some craft with her to carry away the slaves. So I think we must put up with their fire till they harden their hearts and attack us in earnest. They will make the attack, I expect, about the centre of the palisade, for your guns would cover both our flanks. If we are hard pressed I will light a port fire, and you had better land with twenty of your men, leaving five to take care of the ship and work a gun or two should they try to take us in flank." "I should not be surprised if they tried to-night. Shall I bring ten of the men on shore at once, sir?" "Well, perhaps it would be as well. Forty men are not a very large force for this length of palisade and to work some of the guns at the point where they may attack us, and I expect their first rush will be a serious one, and we shall have all our work cut out for us. There is one thing; we can rely, in case of their making a way in, on the slaves. By this time they quite understand that we are friends and that the people who had been firing on us are their enemies, and I believe they would fight like demons rather than fall into their hands again. I have torn up a bale of white calico and have given a strip of it to each man to tie round his head, so that we can tell friend from foe and they can recognize each other in the dark. The enemy won't reckon on that, and will think that they have only a small body of whites to deal with. Do you notice how silent the woods are now? I think we may take that as a sign that they are preparing for mischief." "The sooner it comes the better. Have you plenty of port fires, Mr. Playford?" "Yes, a large boxful came on shore with the last boat yesterday." Nat went off again, and picked out ten men to land with him. "Get the other boat down," he said to the petty officer. "You will understand that if any attack is made on the flanks of the work you are to open fire at once upon them with grape. If a blue light is burned at the edge of the water ten men are to land instantly. You will remain in charge of the other five. So far as we know they have no boats, but they may have made a raft, and may intend to try and take the schooner, thinking that the crew will probably be on shore. So you must keep a sharp look-out on the other side as well as this. Light a blue light if you see a strong party coming off, and we will rejoin you at once." He again landed with the ten men he had chosen. "I have six men on watch," the lieutenant said, "and have put one of the blacks with each. I fancy their ears are sharper than ours are, and they will hear them coming before our men do." Having nothing to do, Nat went into the barracoon and the other houses in which the slaves were placed. The contrast between their condition now and when he had seen them four days before, when they had first been found, was striking indeed. Now they were clean, and looked picturesque in their bright calico clothes. The look of dull and hopeless misery had passed away, and it seemed to him that with the good and plentiful food they had received they were already perceptibly plumper. They would have risen as he entered, but he signed to them to keep their places. They now had room to lie down in comfort, and while some sat chatting in groups others moved about. They were evidently proud of their arms, and some of them, seizing their pikes or hatchets, made signs how they would fight their enemies. A ship's lantern was burning in each hut. In the women's huts the scene was still more interesting. The little children ran up to Nat with a new-born confidence in white men. Some of the women brought up babies to show him, and endeavoured to make him understand that these would soon have died had it not been for the sailors. The windows and doors stood open, and the evening breeze cleared the huts of the effluvium always present where a number of negroes congregate together. The sight of the poor creatures enraged Nat still more against the slavers, and made him long for them to begin their attack. "It is quite pleasant to see them," he said as he joined Mr. Playford. "They are wonderfully changed in this short time. One would hardly have thought it possible. What will become of them?" "I expect we shall take them to Jamaica, and that there they will be let out as free labourers to the planters. You see there is no law against the slave-trade, though public opinion is so strong on the subject at home that I have no doubt such a law will be passed before long. So, of course, we have not captured the slaves because of their being slaves, but simply as we should capture or destroy other property belonging to an enemy. Then, too, many of the slavers act as pirates if they get the chance, and there can be little doubt that a considerable quantity of the goods we found are the proceeds of piracy. Besides, you must remember that they fired at us before we fired at them. So we have plenty of good reasons for releasing these poor beggars. You see these seas swarm with scoundrels of all kinds, and it is quite safe to assume that all ships that cannot show that they are peaceful traders are engaged in nefarious business of some kind or other." CHAPTER IV A SHARP FIGHT Mr. Playford and Nat were still talking when a sailor came up to him with one of the negroes. "What is it, Tomkins?" the lieutenant asked. "Well, sir, this 'ere black seems to hear something; he keeps pointing up into the wood and whispering something in his own lingo and looking very excited, so I thought I had better bring him here to you." "Quite right, Tomkins; no doubt he does hear something, their ears are a good deal better than ours are. I will go up with you." Accompanied by Nat, Mr. Playford went up on to the bank of earth that had been thrown up against the palisade, and found that the negroes there were all in a state of excitement, pointing in various directions and shaking their pikes angrily. "They are coming, there is no doubt of that," he said. "I should say, by the motions of the blacks, that they are scattered through the wood. Well, we are ready for them. You had better get your slow matches alight, my lads; don't take the covers off the vents until the last moment, the dew is heavy." They were joined now by Lieutenant Boldero. "I think I can hear them," he said. "Yes. I should not have noticed if it had not been for the blacks, but there is certainly a confused noise in the air." Listening attentively, they could hear a low rustling sound, with sometimes a faint crack as of a breaking stick. "As soon as we think that they have got to the edge of the trees we will throw a fireball out in that direction, and then let them have it. We must keep them from getting closer if we can; when they once get near the foot of the palisade we shall not be able to depress our guns enough to fire upon them." In a short time there was no question that a large number of men were making their way down through the wood. The blacks were now brought out from the houses and ranged along at the foot of the bank, where they were ordered to stay for the present, as were they to man the line they would be exposed to the assailants' bullets, while powerless to do any service until the latter began to attempt to scale the stockade. "They must be gathering at the edge of the trees now," the lieutenant said at last. "Now, Tomkins, light that fireball and heave it over." The ball, which was formed of old junk, was about the size of a man's head. The material had been smeared with tar mixed with sulphur, and Tomkins held in his hand the lanyard attached to it. He applied a slow match to it, and it broke into a blaze at once. Swinging it round his head, he hurled it far in front of him. By its light as it fell a crowd of figures could be seen gathered along the edge of the forest. A fierce yell broke from them, and loud shouts were raised by the leaders ordering them to charge, but before they could get into motion four guns poured a storm of grape among them, followed directly afterwards by the contents of four others. An appalling din of yells and shrieks was heard, but without an instant's hesitation a score of figures in European dress darted forward, followed by a mass of blacks, behind whom came another thirty or forty Europeans or mulattoes driving the negroes before them. "Pick off the whites!" Lieutenant Boldero shouted to the marines, and a dropping fire of musketry was at once opened. The distance, however, from the edge of the trees to the palisades was but some fifty yards; the light was dim and uncertain, and in a minute from the first shot being fired the assailants were swarming along the foot of the palisade. There was no hesitation, and it was evident that the men who led the attack had made every preparation. A number of the assailants carried ladders; these were placed against the wall, and the whites and mulattoes swarmed up, closely followed by the negroes. So sudden and unexpected was this assault that in several places they obtained a footing inside the palisades, but with a wild yell the slaves at once rushed up the bank and fell upon them. At the same moment the boom of the schooner's guns told that they had made out parties of the enemy advancing against the flanks of the works. The arrival of the slaves soon changed the position. The assailants were cut down, run through, or forced to leap down over the stockade that they had just crossed. In spite of the shouts of the lieutenant, the slaves, thirsting for vengeance, leapt down after them, and fell with such fury upon the assailants that these, seized with a panic, fled. At the edge of the trees, however, the efforts of the whites checked the flight. Guns and pistols were discharged for the first time, and a fierce fight presently raged. "We must go down and lend them a hand," the lieutenant said. "Keep your men here, Mr. Glover, to get the guns loaded again; I will take my blue-jackets and the marines. Light a port fire or two, else, in spite of their white head-gear, we shall be hurting our friends." The sailors and marines soon scrambled down the ladders, and, led by their officers, rushed forward with loud cheers. Their arrival at once decided the fortune of the fray. Rushing through their black allies, they fell with sword and cutlass, musket and bayonet, upon the Europeans, whose pistols had given them a decided advantage over the slaves, but who could not stand the charge of the marines and seamen. These pursued them for some little distance, but when beyond the range of the lights of the stockade Lieutenant Playford halted them. The slaves, however, continued the pursuit for some time, and then they, too, returned, having overtaken and killed many of their flying enemies. "There is nothing more to be done till daylight," Mr. Playford said. "Indeed, I do not think that we shall hear any more of these fellows, who, to do them justice, fought well. Our guns must have done a good deal of execution, though they would have done much more had they not been so close; the bullets had hardly begun to scatter. However, we shall see in the morning. It is lucky that we armed the slaves, or it would have gone very hard with us. You see, we had half our men at the guns, and the others were too thinly scattered along the line to be able to defend it against so determined an attack. I expect they never calculated on the slaves being armed, and thought that they had only forty or fifty men to deal with. After the lesson that they have had I don't think they will molest us again, unless there are any troops in the neighbourhood that they can bring up." The palisades were recrossed and sentries set; grog was served out to the seamen and marines; the slaves were mad with delight, and danced and sang songs of triumph for some time. As soon, however, as the lieutenant motioned them to return to their huts they did so at once. Many of them were wounded more or less severely, but they seemed to think nothing of this, being too much pleased with the vengeance they had taken to care aught for the pain. Nat prepared to return to the schooner with his men, none of whom were, however, seriously hurt, as they had been held in reserve. Altogether, three sailors and a marine had been killed and six severely wounded. "Are you going on board, Mr. Playford?" "No; I shall stay ashore till morning. I do not think that there is the remotest chance of the attack being renewed; however, it is clearly my duty to stay here." As soon as it was daylight Nat went on shore again, and with ten of his own men, ten marines, and a hundred of the slaves, went over the ground to collect the wounded, and learn the loss of the assailants. All the wounded sailors had been carried into the fort when the fight ceased. Six Spaniards and nine mulattoes lay dead either on the earthen rampart or at the foot of the palisade. All of them were pierced in several places by pikes, or mutilated with blows of axes. Round them lay some twenty plantation negroes, and thirty others had fallen at the edge of the wood, shattered by the discharges of the cannon or killed in the hand-to-hand conflict; among them were twelve of the released slaves. Not a single white or mulatto was found alive. The party pursued their way for a quarter of a mile into the wood. Here and there were scattered the bodies of the assailants who had been overtaken by their pursuers. The latter had done their work thoroughly, for not a single man was found to be breathing. When they came to a point beyond which the slaves by signs apprised them that they had not gone, they returned, collecting and carrying down the bodies of the dead as they went. They found on their return that two trenches, four feet deep and thirty feet long, had already been dug, at the edge of the forest and as far from the camp as possible. In one of these the bodies of the Spaniards and mulattoes were laid, and in the other that of the negroes. The earth was then filled in. "It has been an unpleasant job, but a necessary one," Lieutenant Playford said, when he knew that the work was done, and the whole party re-entered the fort. "In a climate like this the place would have been uninhabitable in a couple of days if we had not buried them all." In the afternoon two fresh graves were made, and the fallen sailors were reverently laid to rest in one, the dead slaves in the other. Water was brought up in buckets by the negroes from the edge of the creek, and all signs of the conflict on the rampart and at the foot of the palisade either washed away or covered with earth. Then matters resumed their former aspect. Early the next morning the look-out on the cliff ran down and reported that a large brigantine was just entering the inlet. Mr. Playford shouted the news to Nat. "I will send off the marines to you," he said. "I will remain here with the blue-jackets." The Spanish flag was at once run up to the peak. In two or three minutes the boat with the marines came alongside. They and the greater part of the sailors at once lay down on the deck, while the few who remained on foot took off their straw hats and white jumpers, tied handkerchiefs round their heads, and gave themselves as unseamanlike an appearance as possible. Ten minutes later the brigantine appeared round the point; there was scarce a breath of wind, and she had two boats towing her. A flag hung from her mast-head, and as Nat turned his glass upon it he exclaimed to Boldero, who, having removed his coat and cap, was standing by his side: "It is the black flag; the fellow must be pretty sure of his welcome or he would never venture to haul it up." In the meantime the guns ashore had been slued round, and were now pointed on a spot somewhat ahead of the schooner. She came slowly along until within some four or five lengths of the latter, then there was a sudden shout on board, followed by a tremendous hubbub. It was clear that the line of palisades surrounding the huts had been noticed and the guns seen. The brigantine was crowded with men. She carried twelve guns in her ports, and a long swivel eighteen-pounder in her bow. There was now no longer any motive for concealment, the marines and seamen leapt to their feet with a cheer, and a moment later the schooner's two foremost guns, which would alone bear on the boats, spoke out, while almost at the same moment two of those on the rampart sent a shower of grape into them. Both boats sank immediately, those of the crews who were uninjured swimming to the brigantine. Contradictory orders were shouted on board the pirate. One by one her guns on the port side answered those on the ramparts. "Get ready, my lads!" Nat shouted, "she will be alongside directly." The impetus of the schooner's way was indeed sufficient to take her slowly but surely forward, and the pirate slightly changed his course so as to bring her outside the schooner. Playford saw what his object was, and the remaining guns poured their charges of grape across the deck of the brigantine, committing terrible havoc. Before they could be loaded again she was alongside the schooner, and so covered by her from the fire of the guns on shore. As the vessels came abreast of each other at a distance of two or three feet only, Nat and the young marine officer leapt on to the pirate's deck followed by their men. The resistance of the pirates was desperate. Although they had suffered much loss from the fire of the guns, they were still numerically stronger than their assailants, and, fighting as they did with the desperation of despair, they not only held their ground, but pushed their assailants back towards the bulwark. [Illustration: THE GUNS ON THE RAMPART SEND A SHOWER OF GRAPE INTO THE PIRATE.] For three or four minutes the fight continued without any marked advantage to either party; the pistols of the seamen and pirates and the muskets of the marines were empty, and they were fighting hand to hand. Then slowly the advantage turned against the pirates, but the issue was still undecided when there was a loud cheer, and Mr. Playford with fifteen sailors leapt on the deck of the pirate from the other side, the approach of the boat having been unnoticed in the heat of the fray. The pirates now broke; their captain had fallen, and, outnumbered and hopeless, some threw down their arms, while others jumped overboard. Those who surrendered were at once bound and battened down in the hold of the schooner, some eight or ten only gained the opposite shore and took to the woods. The victory had not been a bloodless one. Five of the frigate's crew had been killed, and there were few among Nat's command who were not more or less severely wounded. "It was a sharp fight, Mr. Glover," Mr. Playford said. "It was indeed, sir. At one time they fairly drove us back, but I think that we should have beaten them even if you had not brought help to us." "I am sure you would," the lieutenant said warmly. "I could see as I boarded that although the men in front were fighting hard, those in the rear were hanging back as if they had had enough of it. Still, you might have lost more men than you did before you finished with them if we had not turned up. You see, fighting with pirates is quite a different thing from fighting with any other opponents. These fellows know well enough that there is no mercy for them, and that they have nothing before them but to fight until they die, or to be tried and hanged. The veriest coward would fight till the last with such an alternative as that before him. I would rather fight a hundred and fifty French or Spanish seamen than a hundred pirates. She is a fine roomy craft that we have taken, and I think we shall now be able to carry off all these blacks. No doubt it will be a close pack for them, but for a short voyage that will not matter. Now let us see to our wounded. After that is done we can get off the hatches and have a look round below. Of course she may have come in here for water, but it is likely that she has at least some booty in her hold." This proved to be the case. She was half full of goods of a more or less valuable kind, and these, by the marks on the bales and boxes, had evidently formed part of the cargoes of three ships. Two days later the _Orpheus_ was seen returning along the coast, and Nat was at once sent off by the lieutenant with his written report of what had taken place since she had sailed. The gig reached the side of the frigate just as the anchor was let go. "I see your right arm is in a sling, Mr. Glover," the captain said as he handed him the report, "so I suppose that you have had some fighting." "Yes, sir, we have had some pretty sharp fighting." "What is your wound?" "Only a chop with a cutlass, sir." "Oh, you came to hand-to-hand work, did you?" Nat gave no answer, for the captain had opened the report and was now running his eye down it. "Very satisfactory," he said, as he handed it to the first lieutenant. "An attacking force handsomely repulsed and a pirate captured. Very good work indeed, very good. I see Mr. Boldero was wounded, Mr. Glover." "Yes, sir, he was hit on the head with a pistol-shot. Fortunately the ball glanced off the skull. He was stunned for a time, but is now nearly himself again." "Here is some work for you, Dr. Bemish," the captain said. "Mr. Playford reports that ten of the cases are serious. I am going ashore in my gig at once, and will take you with me. You had better send the cutter at once, Mr. Hill, to bring off the wounded. You may as well return in your own boat, Mr. Glover, Mr. Curtis can go in charge of the cutter. Mr. Needham can go with me." Nat at once returned to his boat. He was overtaken by the captain's gig when half-way up the inlet. He rowed to the schooner, while the gig made straight for the landing-place where the lieutenant was standing. "I congratulate you, Mr. Playford," the captain said as he stepped ashore. "You seem to have had a pretty busy time of it since we have been away. I certainly did not think they would attempt to attack you when you had those guns in position, and I did not reckon on the pirate. She is a fine brigantine; the schooner looks quite small beside her." "Yes, sir, she is over three hundred tons. Her broadside guns are all twelve-pounders, and she carries an eighteen-pounder as a swivel. She had a crew of seventy men, of whom only eight or ten got ashore, the rest were all accounted for except twelve, who are in irons below. The credit of capturing her, sir, really belongs to Mr. Glover, for although I went off to his assistance he would have taken her without my aid, though the pirates were still fighting strongly." "Well, it has been a very successful business altogether, Mr. Playford. The capture of the brigantine is specially fortunate, as I have failed to come across any native craft as I had hoped to do, but with this extra accommodation we shall be able to manage to carry off all the slaves. I see by your account that Mr. Glover had the marines as well as his own twenty men." "Yes, sir, I sent Lieutenant Boldero and fourteen marines on board; he had lost six either killed or seriously wounded in the attack here. I own that I had hardly calculated upon the brigantine getting alongside the schooner. I thought that when we had smashed up her boats, which I made certain we should do, she would be so completely at our mercy that, being becalmed, she would haul down her flag; but she had sufficient way on her to take her alongside the schooner, and her captain put her there so cleverly that I could not fire at her except through the schooner. I saw at once that the whole position was changed, for if he had captured the schooner he might have put all his men into the boats and made a dash for shore; and as I had so few men fit for work it would have been awkward, though with the aid of the blacks I have no doubt I should have driven them off." "Then I suppose your discharge of grape did not do him very much harm?" "Not so much as it ought to have done, sir. You see the first two guns we fired destroyed his boats. The other guns were all too weakly handled to be trained on the pirate as he forged ahead, and as far as I could see not one of them did any serious execution among his crew. Yesterday I told off four negroes to each gun, and kept them at work all day learning how to train them under the direction of the sailors. If I had thought of that before we should have swept his decks with such effect that when she got alongside the schooner Mr. Glover's party would have had easy work of it." "You could hardly think of everything, Mr. Playford, and you certainly did right in sending the marines off to the schooner directly you had news that this brigantine was entering the inlet. No doubt if you had wished to sink her it would have been better to have kept them on shore to help work the guns, but as she is a valuable prize, and we wanted her badly to help carry away the slaves, you were quite right not to try to damage her. You say she is half full of plunder?" "Yes, sir, and there were nearly eight hundred pounds in money and thirty-four watches and some jewellery found in the captain's cabin." "She is a valuable capture, and I should think the admiral would buy her into the service. She is just the sort of craft that we want. The schooner would be too small to tackle one of these heavily-armed pirates with their crowds of men. So your slaves fought well?" "That they did, sir. If it had been daylight I doubt whether any of the whites who led the attack would have escaped. Of course they had no particular animosity against the negroes, but I believe that they would have followed the whites and mulattoes half across the island." "Well, do you think that the two craft will carry all the slaves?" "Hardly, sir; the schooner can stow a hundred and fifty. Of course it will be close work, but there will be room for that number to lie down, and with the hatches both open they will be all right. By rearranging the cargo a bit, two hundred could sleep in the hold of the brigantine. That would still leave rather over one hundred and fifty." "Well, we must give up part of the hold of the frigate to them," the captain said, "there is no help for it. There are about that number of women and children, are there not?" "Yes, sir." "They had better go off in the frigate, then. Of course, the prisoners will be sent off too--I will pay a visit to the brigantine, and then go off myself, and will send the boats in as soon as I get there. You may as well be getting the men on board at once. As soon as they are all off, you will, of course, set fire to all the sheds here, but you may as well send off a boat-load of stores suitable for them to the frigate, and will, of course, victual these two craft. I shall send you another forty men to fill up the vacancies that have been caused, and to furnish a crew for the brigantine, of which, of course, you will take the command. You and the schooner will keep in close company. The marines will return to the ship. Mr. Needham will be your second on the brigantine." "How about the guns, sir? They are all old pieces, and scarcely worth carrying away." "Yes, but I won't leave them here to be used for defending this place again. You had better take them off their carriages, spike them, get them into the boats, and heave them overboard, well out in deep water. Do you think that you will be able to get everything done before dark, Mr. Playford?" "Yes, sir, it is only nine o'clock now, and if you will send a strong working party, in addition to those who will be taking the slaves on board, to help with the stores and guns, I have no doubt that I shall be able to get the work done well before sunset." "Very well. Mr. Hill will come on shore as soon as I return to the frigate." The work went on without ceasing all day, and the pinnace, which had been recovered and repaired before the frigate sailed, and the launch, went backwards and forwards to the frigate with the women, children, and stores, while the boats of the brigantine and schooner carried the men to those craft, as soon as the stores for the voyage, and the bales of cotton and other goods that would be useful, had been taken off. When the two large boats had finished their work they were employed in carrying out the guns, which had, before the slaves embarked, been brought down by them to the edge of the water. By three o'clock all was finished, and the last boat-load of the sailors rowed out to the prizes, after having set fire to all the huts. These were soon in a blaze, to the delight of the negroes, who danced and shouted for joy. Half of these were sent below at once, as they crowded the decks to such an extent as to render it impossible for the sailors to work. Those who remained were ranged in rows by the bulwarks from end to end of the craft; then the anchors were got up, and the sails dropped and sheeted home. The wind was very light, but was sufficient to give steerage-way, and with the British ensign flying at the peak the two vessels sailed out of the inlet and joined the frigate, which began to make sail as soon as they were seen issuing from the narrow mouth. Glad indeed were all on board the three vessels when, after a voyage unmarked by any adventure, they entered Port Royal, for although the negroes, feeling confident that they were in good hands, had been docile and obedient, they were still terribly in the way. Though all had been made to take a bath every morning, the odour in the crowded prizes was almost overpoweringly strong. On arrival, the negroes were landed and lodged in some large government storehouses near the fort. Each was presented with ten yards of cloth on leaving for the shore, and they were, before being housed, permitted to sort themselves, so that families and friends might be together. Interpreters explained to them that it would be impossible to send them back to their friends in Africa, but that they would be apportioned out among the plantations of the island. The wages they were to receive were explained to them, and they were told that a government official would visit each plantation in turn, and would listen to any complaints that might be made as to their food and treatment, and at the end of three years all who wished it could either change masters or take up a piece of land, build a hut, and cultivate it on their own account. The poor creatures were well satisfied with this. They were overjoyed at being united to their relations and friends, and to know that they would still be together; and were assured that they would be well cared for, and in time be as much their own masters as if at their villages in Africa. The schooner was sold; the brigantine was, as the captain had expected, bought into the service; Mr. Playford was offered and accepted the command of her. Mr. Normandy took his place as second lieutenant of the _Orpheus_, and Mr. Marston received his promotion and the post of third officer. As the _Cerf_--which was the name of the brigantine--was to be considered as a tender of the frigate, those on board her were still borne on her books. Curtis and Glover were appointed to her, with a petty officer and forty men. The pirates were tried and executed, with the exception of one, who was a mere lad. He had, he asserted, been forced to join the pirates--being spared by them when the rest of his comrades had been murdered, as they had lost their cook's mate, and required someone to fill his place. This, however, would not have saved his life had he not promised to lead his new captors to the chief rendezvous of the pirates, which had so long eluded the search that had been made for it. He acknowledged, however, that he was not acquainted with its exact position. He had sailed in and out four or five times, and had only a general idea of its position, but asserted that he should certainly know the island if he saw it. A fortnight after reaching Port Royal, the frigate and brigantine sailed in company. The indications given by the boy pointed to an island lying a short distance off the northern coast of Venezuela. There were originally, he said, four vessels working together, three brigantines and a large schooner, one of which had arrived from France only a short time before the _Cerf_ sailed on her last voyage. The entrance to the pirates' stronghold was on the south side of the island, and was, he said, so well concealed that vessels might sail past the place a thousand times without noticing it. There were two batteries at the water's edge, inside the entrance, each mounting twelve eighteen-pounder guns that had been taken from prizes. The channel here was not more than fifty yards across. A very heavy boom was at all times swung across it just above the batteries, and this was opened only when one of the craft entered or left. There was, however, he said, a spot on the outer side of the island where a landing could be effected, at a little ravine that ran down to the shore. This was thickly wooded, and some large trees growing at its mouth almost hid it from passing vessels. At other points the shore was steep, but there was so much vegetation on every ledge where trees or bushes could obtain a foothold, that from the sea it would seem that the cliffs were not too steep to scale. The prisoner had been placed on board the _Cerf_, which, as soon as she was fairly at sea, was altered as far as possible in appearance by a white band with ports painted along her sides; a false stem of an entirely different shape from her own was fastened to her, her light upper spars sent down and replaced by stumpy ones, and other changes made that would help to alter her appearance. Were she recognized by the pirates as she sailed past their island it would at once be suspected that one of the men recently captured had revealed the rendezvous, and that she was cruising near it to obtain an exact idea of the best mode of attack before other craft came up to assist her. They had no doubt that the pirates had already received news of the surprise and capture of the brigantine. Some of the men who escaped would doubtless have made for the nearest port, and hired a negro craft to take them to their own island, which they would have reached before the _Orpheus_ arrived at Port Royal with her prizes. The pirates would therefore be on their guard, and would either have deserted their head-quarters altogether or have added to their defences. The sight of their late consort would confirm their fears that their whereabouts had become known, and it was therefore of importance that her identity should not be suspected. Changed as she now was, she might be taken for a man-of-war brigantine. Her height out of water had been increased by four feet by painted canvas fastened to battens. She had ten ports painted on each side, and looked a very different craft from the smart brigantine that had sailed away from the island. It had at first been suggested by Mr. Playford that she should be disguised so as to look like a trader, but Captain Crosbie had decided against this. "There are," he said, "three of these pirates, and even two of them might together be more than a match for you. By all accounts they are each of them as strong as you are in point of armament, and would carry at least twice as many men as you have. Even if you beat them off it could only be at a very great cost of life, and I certainly should not like you to undertake such an enterprise unless you had at least double the strength of men, which I could not spare you. By going in the guise of a vessel of war they would not care to meddle with you. They would know that there would be no chance of booty and a certainty of hard fighting, and of getting their own craft badly knocked about, so that it will be in all respects best to avoid a fight. They may in that case not connect you with us at all, but take you to be some freshly-arrived craft. You had best hoist the Stars and Stripes as you pass along the coast." When the changes were all effected the ships parted company. The brigantine was to sail east until within a short distance of Grenada, then to cruise westward along the coast of the mainland; thus going, there would be less suspicion on the part of those who saw her that she was coming from Jamaica. A rendezvous was appointed at the island of Oruba, lying off the mouth of the Gulf of Venezuela. Their prisoner was French, and he was very closely questioned by Lieutenant Playford, who spoke that language well. He said that they always sailed north to begin with, then sometimes they kept east, and certainly he heard the names of Guadeloupe and St. Lucia. At other times, after sailing north they steered north-west, and came to a great island, which he had no doubt was San Domingo. It was not in this craft that he sailed, he was only transferred to her with some of the others for that cruise only. After they had once made either the western islands or San Domingo, they cruised about in all directions. "The great point is," Mr. Playford said to the midshipmen after a long talk with the prisoner, "that at starting they generally hung about these islands, Guadeloupe, St. Lucia, and so on, for some time, and it was considered their best cruising ground, though also the most dangerous one, as we have always some cruisers in those waters. That would certainly place the island somewhere off the north coast of Caracas. He declared that the first day out they generally passed the western point of an island of considerable size with some high hills. The only island that answers to that account is, as you see in the chart, Margarita. Therefore I feel convinced that the pirate hold is in one of these groups, off Caracas, either Chimana, Borrshcha, or these two islets called Piritu Islands. Altogether, you see, there are over a dozen of these islands scattered along near the mainland. "It is quite out of the general course of trade, as nothing would go into that bay except a craft bound for San Diego, or this place marked Barcelona, lying a short distance up the river. They would take care not to molest any of the little traders frequenting these ports, and might lie in an inlet in one of these islands for years without their being ever suspected, unless perhaps by some of the native fishermen, who probably supply them with fish and fruit from the mainland. Anyhow, I don't suppose a British cruiser is seen along that coast once a year." CHAPTER V A PIRATE HOLD A fortnight later the _Cerf_ passed along under easy sail between the island of Margarita and the mainland. She was now getting very close to the spot where, if the prisoner was right, the pirates' hold lay. The Stars and Stripes was hanging from the peak, and with her high bulwarks and ten ports on each side no one would have suspected that she was not, as she seemed, an American man-of-war, heavily armed. Passing close to another island, they headed more south into the bay as they neared Caracas. Every foot of the islands was closely scanned. Five miles farther, they came abreast of the Chimana isles, and pointing to one of these that lay nearer the shore than the others, the prisoner exclaimed that he was certain that that was the island. "I am sure of it," he exclaimed, "both from the look of the island itself, and from that high range of mountains on the mainland to the south-east." "You are quite sure?" "Certain, captain; there are the large trees I spoke of growing down close to the water. It is behind them that there is a little ravine by which one can climb up." No alteration was made in the ship's course, but she continued her way until sunset, when she dropped anchor off the mouth of the river La Pasqua, some twenty miles west of the islands. As soon as it was dark Curtis was sent off in a gig manned by six rowers. The oars were muffled; the orders were to row round the island within an oar's length of the shore, and to find the entrance to the channel, which, if the prisoner was right as to the place, should be on the side facing the mainland. Pierre, the French lad, was taken with them. It was a long row to the island, but the gig was a fast one, and, at three o'clock in the morning, she returned with the news that Pierre's information had been correct. They had found the opening but had not entered it, as Mr. Playford had given strict orders on this point, thinking it probable that there would be a sharp look-out kept in the batteries, especially as the supposed cruiser would certainly have been closely watched as she passed. An hour later the anchor was got up and the _Cerf_ sailed for Oruba, off which she arrived three days later. There were no signs of the frigate, and indeed the _Cerf_ had arrived at the rendezvous before the time fixed. At daybreak on the third morning the topsails of the _Orpheus_ were made out from the mast-head, and four hours later she and the _Cerf_ met, and Mr. Playford went on board the frigate to report. "This is good news indeed," the captain said when he heard that the haunt of the pirates had been discovered. "Of course you have taken the exact position of the island, for we must, if possible, take them by surprise?" "Yes, sir; it lies as nearly as possible in 64° 30' west longitude and 10° 22' north latitude." "We will lay our course east, Mr. Playford, for, of course, you will keep company with us. The water is deep all along the coast, and there seems to be from thirty to thirty-eight fathoms to within a mile or two of the coast. I shall lay my course outside the Windward Islands as far as Blanquilla, thence an almost due south course will take us clear of the western point of Margarita and down to this island. We will discuss our plan of attack later on." On the morning of the third day after leaving Oruba the island of Blanquilla was sighted. The frigate made the signal for Mr. Playford to go on board, and on entering the captain's cabin he found him and Mr. Hill examining the chart. "You see, Mr. Playford, we are now as nearly as possible a hundred miles north of the island; with this wind we should pass the point of Margarita at about four o'clock in the afternoon; if it freshens we will take in sail, I want to be off the island say three or four hours before daybreak. You will send that French lad on board when you go back; as soon as we anchor he will go in the gig with Mr. Hill to reconnoitre and make sure that there is no mistake about the place. When he finds that it is all right he will come back. The boats will be in the water, and the men on board in readiness, and will at once start, so that the landing may, if possible, be effected just at daybreak at this ravine on the north of the island. At the same hour you will sail in and take up your place opposite the mouth of the harbour, and fight anything that tries to come out. "It is quite possible that as soon as our party attack the place on the land side any craft there may be there will cut their cables and try to make off. On no account try to enter; the batteries would blow you out of the water. You will start as soon as the boats leave the ship, and will therefore have light enough for you to go in and to avoid making any mistake, for you see there are half a dozen islands lying close together. There is no objection to their seeing you, and indeed I should be rather glad if they do, for in that case they are the less likely to discover the landing-party, and though they must see the frigate they will think that she is only lying there to cut them off if they try to escape. They will be manning their batteries and getting everything ready to give you a warm reception, and I hope that we shall drop upon them as if out of the clouds. "Mr. Hill will command the landing-party, which will consist of a hundred and fifty seamen and the thirty marines, which, with the advantage of surprise, ought to be sufficient. As you report that the island is less than a mile long and not much more than half a mile across, the landing-party will soon be at work. After they have landed, Mr. Hill will divide them into two parties, and will endeavour to make his way round the inlet, keeping up among the trees, and then rush down upon the batteries. When he has captured these he will fire three guns as a signal to you. You will have your boats in readiness, and will at once tow the schooner in, and, on reaching the boom, bring her broadside to bear upon any craft there, and generally aid the landing-party with your guns. If, by good luck, the three craft we have been so long looking for are all there you will have a strong force to tackle; you may certainly take it that their crews will together mount up to three hundred men, and it is likely that there may be a hundred others who form what we may call the garrison of the place when they are away." "Very well, sir." The two vessels headed south under easy canvas, passed the point of Margarita at the hour that had been arranged, and then taking in still more sail proceeded slowly on until, about one o'clock in the morning, the island could be made out with the night-glasses. Then both were laid to, Captain Crosbie having forbidden anchoring, in the first place owing to the great depth of water, and in the next because, although the island was three miles away, the chain-cable running out might be heard at night if the pirates had anyone on watch on the hill. Nat, whose watch it was, saw the gig shoot away from the side of the frigate. An hour later and there was a bustle and stir on board the _Orpheus_, and all her boats were lowered. At five bells the crew began to take their places in them, and soon afterwards the gig returned. The watch below were called up and sail was made, and at half-past three the boats started, and the _Cerf_ was headed towards the land. Dawn was just breaking when they reached the island. All was still. It had been arranged that, unless discovered, the attack on the batteries was not to be made until five o'clock, and just at that hour the _Cerf_ arrived off the narrow entrance to the port. Half an hour before, a musket had been discharged on the hill above them, and it was clear that their coming had been observed; but as no sound of conflict could be heard inland there was every reason to suppose that the pirates had no suspicion of a landing having been effected on the other side. "That is what I call being punctual," Nat said to Curtis as two bells rang out just as they opened the passage. A light kedge anchor was dropped, and as this was done a patter of musketry broke out from the hill above them. Their action showed that the arrival of the brigantine was no matter of chance, but that she was there expressly with the intention of attacking the pirates' stronghold, and those who had been watching her, therefore, saw that any further attempt at concealment was useless. In the night the canvas band had been taken down, as there was no longer any reason for concealing the identity of the brigantine. The musketry fire only lasted for a minute, for suddenly a roar of battle broke out within a hundred yards of the mouth of the entrance. The sailors burst into a loud cheer. It was evident that the landing-party had met with complete success so far, and had approached the batteries unobserved, and that a hand-to-hand fight was going on. Above the cracking of pistols the cheers of the seamen could be plainly heard, but in two or three minutes the uproar died away, and then three guns were fired at short intervals. The boats were already in the water, the kedge lifted, and the crews bending forward in readiness for the signal. "Take her in, lads!" the lieutenant shouted, and the schooner's head at once began to turn towards the inlet. A moment later two broadsides were fired. "There are two of their craft in there!" Curtis exclaimed. "Now our fellows have carried the batteries they have opened fire on them." As he spoke there was another broadside, which was answered by a hurrah from all on deck. It was clear that they had had the good luck to catch all the pirates at once. Three minutes' rowing and the boom was in sight. Mr. Playford called to one of the boats to take a rope from the stern to the battery on the right-hand side, and ordered the others to cease rowing. "We have way enough on her!" he shouted. "As soon as you get near the boom take her head round to port, and carry the rope to shore. You can fasten it to the chain at the end of the boom." As he gave the order a gun spoke out from the battery on the right, followed almost immediately by one on the left. "They are slueing the guns round!" Nat exclaimed. "We shall be having our share of the fun in another minute or two." They could now obtain a view into the piece of water inside the passage. It was nearly circular, and some three hundred yards across. Two brigantines and a schooner were lying in line, within fifty yards of the opposite shore. A large range of storehouses stood by the water's edge, while the hillsides were dotted with huts, and dwelling-places of larger size. By the time that the brigantine was got into position by the side of the boom the pirates had loaded again, and several shots struck her. Her guns were already loaded, and those on board poured a broadside into the brigantine at the end of the line. The sailors in the battery were working with might and main to slue all the guns round to bear upon the pirates. On the hillsides above them a scattered fire of musketry was being kept up, and Mr. Hill hailed the schooner. "Mr. Playford, will you land a party of fifteen men on each side to clear the hills of those rascals? I don't think there are many of them, but they are doing us a good deal of damage, for they can hardly miss us closely packed as we are here." "Ay, ay, sir. You hear the orders, gentlemen. Mr. Curtis, you land with fifteen men on the starboard side, and do you, Mr. Glover, take the party that lands to port. Clear the scoundrels out--give no quarter!" The boats had just returned. The two midshipmen leapt into them, and a few strokes took them ashore. "Up the hill, lads!" Nat shouted. "Don't fire until you are at close quarters. Give them one volley if they are together, then sling your guns, and go at them with the cutlass!" There was but little fighting, however, for there were only ten or twelve pirates on either side, as their main force was distributed between the batteries and the ships. They were therefore very easily driven off, five or six of them being killed and the rest flying with all speed towards their village, where those who had escaped from the batteries were already going off in boats to the ships. The two midshipmen therefore returned to the schooner. "Don't come on board!" Mr. Playford shouted. "See if you can free one end of the boom. If so we will go in and engage one of those craft." It was found that the boom was fastened at Nat's side, and the chain was soon unwound from the stump of a large tree. Then the two boats together got hold of the end of the boom and swung it round so that the schooner could pass. The enemy kept up a heavy fire upon them while they were doing this, and just as the job was completed, Curtis's boat was smashed to pieces by a round shot. The breeze was very light, but it was in the right direction. "Shall we tow, sir?" Nat called to his commander. "Certainly not. Get your men on board at once." The sails, which had been loosely furled, were dropped again, and the brigantine stole past the batteries, which saluted her with a rousing cheer, while the guns were worked with redoubled energy to keep down the fire of the pirates. The _Cerf_ was swept with round shot and grape by the guns of the three piratical craft, but the distance to be traversed was so small, and the fire from the battery to which the pirates working their guns were exposed was so heavy, that the men fired wildly, and the _Cerf_ suffered less than might have been expected while crossing the intervening two hundred yards of water. She was steered straight for the schooner, and as her bowsprit ran in between the pirate's masts the crew, who had been crouching forward, leapt down on to her deck, headed by their commander and the two midshipmen. The pirates, although they had suffered heavily, were still in sufficient force to offer an efficient resistance, but their courage had been shaken by the suddenness of the attack. They had lain down to sleep with the assurance that the port was unknown and unsuspected, that the batteries that guarded it could sink any hostile ship that attempted to enter, and their dismay when these batteries were attacked and carried by an enemy who seemed to spring out of the earth, and their only retreat cut off, was overwhelming. Already the heavy guns of the battery had done terrible execution. Two of the guns on that side had been dismounted, and a third of the crew killed; consequently, although a small portion of the number led by their captain fought desperately, and were killed to the last man, the majority leapt overboard at once and swam ashore. Leaving ten men in charge of the prize, the lieutenant called all the rest back on board the _Cerf_, which remained in the position in which she had run head on to the schooner, and she was now able to bring her broadsides into play upon the brigantines, the pieces forward raking them from stem to stern, while the batteries continued their terrible fire. In a few minutes the pirates began to take to the boats, which were lying by their sides just as they had come off from the shore. Once begun, the movement spread rapidly. The boats were soon crowded, and those who could not find places in them leapt overboard. "Take the boat and a dozen men, Mr. Curtis, and haul down the black flag of the craft to starboard; and you, Mr. Glover, take one of the prize's boats and do the same to the other brigantine." They turned to execute the order when all on board the _Cerf_ were hurled to the deck--one of the brigantines had blown up with a tremendous explosion, that brought most of the huts on the hillside to the ground, carried away both masts of the _Cerf_, and drove fragments of wreckage high into the air, whence they fell partly in the pool, partly on shore. Fortunately for the _Cerf_ only a few fragments of any size struck her deck, the pieces for the most part falling in a wider circle. Numbers of the pirates who had just landed from their boats were killed, and many more were injured by being hurled down on to the rocks, dazed and half-stunned. Those on board the _Cerf_ who had escaped severe injury rose to their feet. Not more than twenty-five did so. Lieutenant Playford lay dead, crushed under a mast; Curtis had been hurled against one of the guns and his brains dashed out; ten of the sailors had been killed either by the falling masts or by being dashed against the bulwarks; twelve had fallen under the enemy's fire as the _Cerf_ crossed the pool; twelve others were hurt more or less either by the enemy's missiles or by the shock. It was three or four minutes before the silence that followed was broken. Then Mr. Hill hailed across the water: "_Cerf_ ahoy! have you suffered much?" "Terribly," Nat shouted back; "Lieutenant Playford and Mr. Curtis are both killed. We have only twenty-five men in any way fit for service left." "If you have got a boat that will swim send it ashore." Nat looked over the side, the boat had been stove by a falling fragment; then he crossed to the prize, and found that one of the boats was uninjured. Four men were just getting into it, when Mr. Hill hailed again: "Let them bring a rope with them, Mr. Glover; we will tow you over here." The end of a hawser was put into the boat, and the men rowed with it to the battery. "Mr. Glover!" the lieutenant again hailed. "Yes, sir." "I am sending the boat back again. I think that had they put a slow match in the magazine of the other brigantine it would have exploded before this. However, you had better remain where you are for a quarter of an hour, to be sure; then, before you move, board the brigantine and flood the magazine. Otherwise, as soon as you have left, some of these desperadoes might swim off to her and put a match there." "Very well, sir, I will go at once if you like." "No, there is no use running any unnecessary risk. You had better flood the schooner's magazine first." "Ay, ay, sir." Taking half a dozen hands with buckets, Nat went on board the prize and soon flooded the magazine; then he and those who were able to help did all they could for the wounded, several of whom, who had only been stunned, were presently on their legs again. When the quarter of an hour had passed he asked for volunteers. All the survivors stepped forward. "Four men will be enough," he said. "Bring buckets with you." It was not without a feeling of awe that Nat and the four sailors stepped on to the deck of the brigantine, for although he was convinced that had a match been lighted the explosion would have taken place long before, as it was now five-and-twenty minutes since the crew had deserted her, neither he nor the men had entirely recovered from the severe shock of the explosion. He led the way below; all was quiet; the door of the magazine was open, but there was no smell of burning powder, and they entered fearlessly. "All right, lads; now as quick as you like with your buckets." An abundance of water was thrown in; then, to make quite certain, Nat locked the door of the magazine, and put the key in his pocket. A cheer broke from the men in the battery as he and his companions again took their places in the boat and rowed to the _Cerf_. He was hailed again by Mr. Hill. "I have changed my mind, Mr. Glover; now that I know there is no risk of another explosion, I think perhaps you had best remain where you are. We will give you a pull to get you free of the schooner, then you had better range the _Cerf_ alongside of her; keep your guns and those of the brigantine both loaded with grape; send your boat ashore to fetch off the wounded." "I have two boats now, sir; one of the brigantine's was left behind, and is uninjured." "Then send them both ashore, the sooner we get the wounded off the better. I am going to move forward with all my men; we have spiked the guns here, and if they should come down into the batteries again you can clear them out. You will, of course, help us, if we meet with strong resistance, with your guns on the shore-side." "Ay, ay, sir." The two boats were sent ashore, and the wounded came off with Dr. Bemish. As soon as they all came on board Nat said: "I will leave you with the wounded here, doctor, with four of my men to help you. We are so littered up that we could hardly work the guns, and as you see, three of them were dismounted by the explosion; besides, the prize alongside would hamper us, therefore I will take the rest of the men on board the brigantine." "I think that will be a very good plan, my lad," the doctor replied. "I quite agree with you, that with the spars and wreckage on one side and the prize on the other, you are practically helpless." The men were at once set to work bringing up powder cartridges from the magazine; grape and round-shot they would find on board the brigantine. In ten minutes the guns of that craft were reloaded. The two bodies of men from the batteries had by this time reached the storehouses. Not a shot had been fired, but a minute later there was a loud word of command, followed by a fierce yell, and in a moment both parties were engaged, a heavy fire being opened upon them from every spot of vantage on the hillside in front of them. "Now, my lads, give them a dose of grape!" Nat shouted. "I expect they are two to one to our fellows still. Train them carefully." Gun after gun sent showers of grape among the hidden foe, who were for the most part lying behind the cactus hedges of the gardens that surrounded the huts. The three forward guns assisted Mr. Hill's party, while the others aided that commanded by Needham. Although but four men to a gun, the sailors worked so hard that the pieces were discharged as rapidly as if they had been manned by a full complement, and their effect was visible in the diminution of the enemy's fire, and by the line of smoke gradually mounting the hill, showing that the pirates were falling back, while the cheers of the sailors and marines as they pressed steadily upwards, rapidly plying their muskets, rose louder and louder. Near the upper edge of the cleared ground the pirates made a stand, but the fire of the guns proved too much for them, and they took to the forest. Presently a sailor ran down to the shore. "The first lieutenant says, sir, will you please continue your fire into the forest. He is going to cut down all the hedges and fire the huts, so that they will have to pass over open ground if they attack again." "Tell Mr. Hill I will do so," Nat shouted back. It was not long after the fire had been turned in that direction before the puffs of smoke that darted out from the edge of the forest ceased altogether. The sailors could now be seen slashing away with their cutlasses at the lines of cactus hedge, while the huts that still stood were speedily in flames. Numbers of women and children now came down to the shore, where they were placed in charge of six of the marines and a non-commissioned officer. A quarter of an hour later, while Nat was watching what was going on on shore, one of the men touched him. "Look, sir, they are going down to the batteries!" The men were at once ordered across to the guns on the other side, and these opened with grape upon two bodies of pirates, each some seventy or eighty strong, who were rushing down to the batteries. The discharge of the six guns did terrible execution, but the survivors without pausing dashed down to the works. Cries of disappointment and rage broke out from them on finding the guns spiked, and before they could be reloaded they ran up the hill again, and were in shelter in the forest. "I fancy that is about the end of it," Nat said to the petty officer standing by his side. "I don't think that above fifty of either party got safely away." "Not more than that, sir. I expect it has taken the fight out of them." "It was a hopeless attempt, for although, if the guns had been loaded, they might have sunk us, our fellows on shore would soon have been upon them again, and it would have come to the same thing." "Yes, sir, the same thing to the pirates, but not the same thing to us." "No, you are right there; those twenty-four guns loaded with ball would have sent us to the bottom in no time. You see, our men only used grape before, and aimed at the decks." Mr. Hill now hailed from the shore again: "Mr. Glover!" "Ay, ay, sir!" "Have the goodness to send your boat ashore, I want to send a note off to the captain. On their way the men must stop at the boats on the other side of the island, and tell the boat keepers to bring them round here at once." Four men were sent ashore in the boat, and one of the petty officers took his place in the stern, with a hasty note which the first lieutenant had written in pencil stating that the loss had been very heavy, that the work of rooting out the pirates had not yet been completed, and that he should be glad of some more men to occupy the village while he searched the woods. The boat started at once, and twenty minutes later the captain's gig shot into the cove. As soon as the report of the first gun was heard on board the frigate, and there was no longer any motive for remaining at a distance, her head had been turned to the island, and the boat had met her but half a mile away from the entrance. After reading the note, Captain Crosbie sent one of the gigs to order the boats round to the inlet, and proceeded in his own boat to investigate the state of affairs, ordering the _Cerf's_ boat to row ahead of the frigate, which was to work in under very reduced sail, sounding as she went, and was, if the water was deep enough, to anchor off the mouth of the cove. "Then you found all the pirates here, Mr. Hill?" the captain said as he landed. "Yes, sir, but they blew up one of their craft when they left her." "Yes, of course we heard the report; it shook the frigate as if she had struck on a rock. It must have been tremendous here." "Yes, sir, she must have had an immense deal of powder in her magazine; the shock was something terrible. Although we were over there in that battery, every one of us was thrown to the ground and several were killed. Two of the guns were dismounted." "It was a veritable battle for a time, Mr. Hill. It sounded like a naval engagement on a large scale." "Yes, we had twenty-four guns in the batteries all at work, and the guns of the _Cerf_, while the three pirates had the same number in their broadsides, besides two heavy swivel-guns." "You say the loss is heavy. What does it amount to?" "I cannot tell you exactly, sir. There were twenty-five killed on board the _Cerf_, in addition to Mr. Playford and Mr. Curtis. The two officers and about half the men were, Mr. Glover reported, killed by the explosion, which, as you see, dismasted her." "Dear me! That is heavy indeed, and I most deeply regret the death of the two officers." "So do I indeed, sir. Mr. Playford was an excellent officer, and as good a fellow as ever walked. Mr. Curtis would have made, I am sure, a good officer in time. I hardly thought he would when he first joined, but he was improving greatly, and he showed great courage in working to remove the boom under a very heavy fire from the pirates, which sunk his boat under him." "Your division, Mr. Hill--what are your casualties?" "We took the batteries almost without loss, sir, but in the duel with the pirates we lost in the two batteries fourteen killed; nine more were killed by the explosion; we sent eighteen off to the _Cerf_ all seriously wounded; as to contusions and minor hurts, I should say that there is not a man who escaped them." "Well, well, that is a heavy bill indeed; forty-eight men killed and two officers--why, we should probably have lost less in an action against a frigate of our own size! However, we have destroyed this nest of pirates, and have captured three of their four ships, the other is blown up. Now, what is the state of things here?" "There are, I believe, some hundred and fifty or two hundred of the pirates still on the island. They are divided into two parties, and the last firing you heard was when they rushed down into the batteries, thinking, no doubt, to take revenge by sinking the brigantine and the two prizes. Mr. Glover opened fire upon them with grape with great effect. When they got into the battery they found that I had spiked the guns, which I did when I left them, thinking they might make just such a move. I sent off to you, sir, in order that the storehouses and buildings might be held while we cleared the wood on one side down to the mouth of the cove. When we have done that we can do the same on the other side." "Did you have any casualties in taking the village?" "Several wounded, sir, none killed. Mr. Glover drove them out with grape, and so rendered our work comparatively easy. I am sorry to say that almost the last shot fired by them hit Mr. Needham high up in the left arm. The doctor came ashore a few minutes ago, after attending to the wounded sent on board the _Cerf_. He examined the arm, and tells me that the bone is completely smashed, and that he must amputate it half-way between the elbow and shoulder." "That is bad indeed. However, it is better than if it had been his right arm. Mr. Harpur," said the captain to the midshipman who had come ashore with him, "take the gig off and meet the boats. Tell the launch and pinnace to go alongside the frigate, and request Mr. Normandy to send Mr. Marston ashore with fifty more men. What on earth are we to do with these poor creatures?" he went on to the first lieutenant as the gig rowed away. "Of course we must take them to Jamaica. Theirs is a terrible position. No doubt they have all been captured in the prizes the villains have taken, and most of them must have seen their husbands or fathers murdered before their eyes. Some of them may have been here long enough to become accustomed to their lot, many of them may have been captured lately. What is to become of them I don't know. "You have not opened any of the storehouses yet?" "No, sir, we have been pretty busy, you see. We cut down all the cactus hedges round the huts high up on the hill, so as to keep the pirates from working down and making a fresh attack upon us. As to the other houses, I have given strict orders that no one is to enter them. The men have piled arms and are lying down by them; many of them have not completely recovered from the shock of the explosion, and all are bruised more or less by being hurled on to the rocks or against the guns. I fancy the doctor will have his hands full for many a day." "Well, you must pick out twenty or so from those most fit for duty. They can join the men I sent for and finish the business. The rest can be on guard here, in case the party on the other side take it into their heads to make an attack." CHAPTER VI THE NEGRO RISING While waiting for the arrival of the reinforcements, Captain Crosbie went on board the _Cerf_. The wounded had all been carried below, where cots had been slung for them. After their wounds were dressed, he went round saying a few words to each, enquiring into the nature of their injuries. No attempt had been made to remedy the confusion on deck, except that the bodies of those that could be moved had been laid side by side. That of Mr. Playford and the others who had been crushed by the falling masts still lay beneath them, as the four men left on board were unable to do anything to extricate them until help arrived. The captain then went on board the prize. "Mr. Hill has spoken in the highest terms of the service that you have rendered, Mr. Glover, though I have not yet heard the full details. As the only surviving officer of the _Cerf_, you had better, when you have time, draw out a full report for me of the work done by her. It will be another half-hour before we again commence operations against the pirates, and I shall be obliged if you will go on board the _Cerf_ with your men and endeavour to get the body of Mr. Playford and the others from underneath the masts. Nothing more can be done at present, but it is painful that they should be lying there. I fancy that with hand-spikes you will have no very great difficulty in raising the butt of the mast high enough to draw the bodies from under it. As soon as you have done that, bring the men back here. When the advance begins you will shell the wood ahead of it." "We will put you ashore first, sir; this is the only boat we have that will float." Captain Crosbie on landing went among the women, who were between seventy and eighty in number. Some burst into tears when he spoke to them, others seemed dazed and quite unconscious that they were being addressed. Feeling almost unmanned by the moving spectacle, Captain Crosbie was relieved when the two boats filled with men entered the mouth of the cove. As soon as they came alongside, the men leapt out in high spirits at the prospect of having a share in the fray. Mr. Hill had already picked out twenty of his own party. "I will myself take the command here, Mr. Hill. I don't wish to interfere with the credit that you will gain by this affair, therefore I leave the arrangement of your party in your hands." Mr. Hill marched the seventy men straight up the hill. "You will march straight on, Mr. Marston, until you reach the edge of the cliff, then you will return. See that the men are placed at regular intervals. You will then face to the right and the line will advance. No quarter will be given, except to men who throw down their arms and beg for it. I do not suppose that many will do so, as they know what their fate will be if they are taken to Port Royal. We have reason to believe that there cannot be more than eighty or so on this side, but if they keep in a body and make a rush at the line they will no doubt be able to break through. However, that we must risk, and I hardly think that they will attempt it, for they know that they must sooner or later fall into our hands. They will only starve if they conceal themselves. Some may prefer death in that way, or may think that after we have left they may manage to get taken across to the mainland in native fishing-boats. However, search the ground closely. These men are steeped in blood; they have been the scourge of these seas for the past five or six years, and have never yet shown mercy." Mr. Hill then placed himself in the centre of the line, while Mr. Marston again took his place on the right. It was not until they had worked round nearly to the entrance that opposition was met with; then they came upon a spot where a mass of rock cropped up among the trees, and as they approached this a sharp fire of musketry broke out. Mr. Hill ordered the two ends of the line to advance so as to form a semicircle round the rock. When they were in position he gave the word to charge, and with a cheer the sailors dashed forward. Led by their officers, they scrambled up the rocks like cats, discharged their muskets into the pirates grouped on its summit, and then threw themselves upon them cutlass in hand. In three minutes all was over; not a man asked for mercy, but all died fighting desperately to the end. Four of the sailors were killed, several severely wounded. These were carried or helped down to the shore, and the rest of the party then scattered through the woods; but the closest search failed to discover a single man in hiding, although only some fifty of them had been accounted for. Returning to the point from which they had started, the party then proceeded to search the forest at the other side of the cove. Here, however, they met with no resistance. A few dead were found, but the forest was deserted. After searching in vain for some time it was concluded that the survivors had probably gone down the face of the cliff and hidden there in caves or in thickets in places that could only be reached by men well acquainted with the ground. After two hours' vain search, Mr. Hill led the party down to the shore again. While he had been away the captain had had the storehouses opened. These were filled with booty of all kinds, the plunder of at least fifty ships, as they judged by the chronometers, the marks on bales, and other articles. Here were thousands of cases of wine, ranges of barrels of rum, hogsheads of sugar, coffee, and other colonial produce, quantities of bales of cotton cloths used for the slaves, furniture of all kinds, enormous numbers of trunks and boxes containing wearing apparel, bales of silks and satins, and an immense amount of table-linen. In the centre of one of the storehouses was a chamber constructed of stone four feet thick with an arched roof. The entrance was closed by two iron doors, one within the other, and these were so strong that it was necessary to drag up a six-pounder cannon to batter them in. When at last an entrance was forced, the strong-room was found to contain upwards of seventy thousand pounds in coin, hundreds of watches, and a large amount of jewellery, much of which was of Spanish manufacture, and a great many church vessels and ornaments of silver. It was evident that, although no doubt a certain proportion of the spoil had been divided at the time of capture, the main bulk had been stored there for division some day when the haunt should be finally abandoned. The sailors now set about examining the bodies of the pirates who had been killed on the shore by the explosion. It was found that in almost every case they wore belts under their clothes, and that these contained from ten to a hundred pieces of gold. A systematic search was then made, and, in all, the money found upon the dead pirates amounted to six thousand pounds, which was added to the store taken from the treasury. The work of emptying the storehouses, getting up jury-masts on board the _Cerf_, and doing the absolutely necessary repairs to her and the prizes occupied three days. The women had been placed in the brigantine after the craft had been thoroughly washed down and scoured, and she had been taken out and anchored near the frigate, to which the wounded had all been conveyed as soon as the fight was over. On the evening of the third day the storehouses and other buildings still standing were all burned, the cannon were taken on board the frigate, and the next morning the four vessels got up sail and started in company for Jamaica. Nat was left in command of the _Cerf_ with fifteen men. Low was in command of the schooner with twelve men. Mr. Marston had charge of the captured brigantine with fifteen men, all that could be spared from the diminished crew of the frigate. Nat had had time, when the long day's work was over, to row off every evening to see Needham, whose arm had been amputated an hour after the fight was ended. He was, the doctor said, going on well, and was in very good spirits. "This is sure to give me my step," he said to Glover. "I shall have served my time in six months, and Marston's rank will of course be confirmed, now that poor Playford's death has made the vacancy permanent. You have another year to serve, have you not, Glover?" "Yes, rather more. However, of course this affair will help me too, as soon as I have passed." "It ought to, old fellow, considering you were the only officer left on board the _Cerf_, and that you unfastened the boom under that tremendous fire, to say nothing of carrying the schooner and running the risk of being blown up when you went on board the brigantine. You will get your swab as soon as you have passed. You see it has been a big thing; fifty-eight men killed and a hundred and four put down as wounded; and the breaking up of this pirate's nest makes it the most important affair there has been out here for years. The other ships on the station will all feel quite jealous of us. There will be a goodish bit of prize-money, too, which is not to be despised. Over eighty thousand pounds in gold and, I should say, over twenty thousand pounds in goods, makes even a midshipman's share something considerable. How is your arm, Glover?" "Well, it has been hurting me a bit. I am not conscious of having used it particularly, but I suppose when I was thrown down by that explosion it must have got wrenched somehow." "Well, if I were you I would ask Dr. Bemish to have a look at it." Glover did so. It was black and blue from the shoulder down to the elbow, and very tender to the touch. "I don't think anything is broken," the doctor said, "but it has been a very close shave. At any rate, it is just as well that I should put on splints and bandage it, and you must take to your sling again and keep to it for some time. It is not tender above the shoulder, is it?" "No, doctor; I think it is all right there." "That is lucky. You ought to go on the sick-list." "I cannot do that, sir. It would be giving up the command of the brigantine, and I would put up with anything rather than that." They had fine weather and a leading wind to Jamaica, and their arrival there with the two captured prizes and the news that the piratical haunt had been completely destroyed, created quite a sensation, which was heightened by the rescue of so many females from the hands of the pirates. Some fifteen of these found friends in the island, and the scene when they were handed over to them was painful in the extreme. A third of the number were French, and there were also some eighteen Spaniards. All were temporarily taken in and cared for by families at Port Royal, and were sent off as soon as opportunity offered either to the islands for which they had been bound when captured, or to their friends in Europe. Mr. Hill, in his report, had done full justice to the work done by the _Cerf_, and had mentioned Nat's going on board the brigantine to drown her magazine, and the great service that he had rendered in covering the advance of the sailors by the guns of that craft, and in inflicting such heavy punishment upon the two parties that had attempted to possess themselves of the batteries, and the admiral sent for him and personally congratulated him on his work. "I will see that as soon as you have passed, Mr. Glover, you shall have your commission as acting lieutenant. I have not forgotten what Captain Crosbie told me of your gallant action at Cape François." Mr. Hill was at once appointed to the command of a frigate whose captain had died of yellow fever, and received the rank of commander pending its confirmation from home; and Mr. Philpot, second lieutenant of that frigate, was appointed first lieutenant of the _Orpheus_ in his place. The schooner and the _Cerf_ were sold, for the latter had suffered so much damage forward by the fire concentrated upon her by the pirates' ships that she was considered unfit for further service. The other brigantine was bought into the service. The plunder taken was sold by auction, and the proceeds, together with the sum fetched by the three prizes, brought the total up to one hundred and five thousand pounds, a larger sum than had ever been captured by any vessel on the station. The new brigantine was re-christened the _Falcon_, and Mr. Low was placed in command, with two midshipmen from other ships on the station under him. She was not, like the _Cerf_, a tender to the _Orpheus_, as the frigate could no longer spare a crew for her, having, in addition to the loss in action, been obliged to send thirty men to hospital on shore. The brigantine was therefore manned by drafts from other ships of war on the station. Needham was also left on shore, being promoted at once to the rank of lieutenant, which left Nat for the time senior midshipman of the _Orpheus_, which was now directed to cruise in the neighbourhood of Hayti, where complaints had been received of vessels being missing. Two months after leaving Jamaica the _Orpheus_ again put in to Cape François. Nat was still wearing his arm in a sling. There had been a good deal of swelling and inflammation, but this had now abated, and in his opinion his arm was perfectly well again, but the doctor insisted that he should as a precautionary measure still use the sling. The frigate needed some repairs, having carried away some spars in a hurricane a week previously, and on the day of their arrival the captain sent for Nat, and said kindly: "We shall be here for a week, Mr. Glover, and the doctor thinks that another run among the hills will do you good, therefore you can go and stay with your friends there until we sail again. If you return this day week that will do. You have stuck to your work well, for Doctor Bemish said that for the first month at least you ought to have been on the sick-list, and at any rate you deserve a holiday for your share in that fight." On landing Nat went first to Monsieur Duchesne's office. The planter had but just driven in, and his horse and trap were still standing at the door. The negro driver gave a friendly grin as he saw him. "Glad to see you, sah, bery glad; eberyone will be glad. Hope you all well, sah?" "Thank you, Cæsar. All well at the plantation, I hope?" and he went into the office, where he was most warmly received by Monsieur Duchesne. "I had been told that your ship came into port at daybreak, my dear Monsieur Glover, and I should have come off to ask after you as soon as I had answered my letters, and to carry you off if the captain would give you leave. But I see your arm is still in a sling. You have not hurt it, I hope?" "I hurt it in that fight we had with the pirates. I dare say you heard of it." "Everyone has heard of it," the planter said. "It was splendid, and there is not one here who does not feel grateful indeed to your ship for having rid us of all those scoundrels, who have been doing us so much harm for years. You have not hurt it much, I hope?" "It was bad for a bit, but it is all right again now. The doctor orders me to keep to the sling for some time longer, though I am sure there is not the least necessity for it." "And now about your leave, shall I go off to the ship, think you?" "The captain himself gave me leave this morning for a week without my even asking for it." "That is good news indeed. My carriage is at the door; I fortunately told Cæsar to wait, as there are some things to take back. My wife and Myra will be delighted to see you, they talk of you always, and will be glad indeed to have you with them again. My boy has gone out to buy the matters required by madame, he will be back in a few minutes." A quarter of an hour later Nat was on his way out to the plantation, where he was received with a welcome of the warmest kind by Madame Duchesne and her daughter. Both were greatly concerned at finding that his arm had again been injured. "It is hard indeed," Myra said, "that I should be so well and strong again, and that you should still be suffering for what you did for me." "I do not think," he said, "that that business has really anything to do with the last one. A pirate ship blew up close to us; the shock was tremendous. The masts of the brigantine I was in snapped off as if they had been carrots, everyone on deck was thrown down, twelve were killed outright, and the rest of us were all a great deal bruised and hurt. The doctor said that he thought my arm might very well have been broken even had it not been for that accident, and as I came off better than most of the others, I certainly have no reason to complain. It is really quite well again now, and I can use it for almost all purposes. I consider it absurd that I should wear this sling, and would take it off at once, only the doctor made me promise that I would generally wear it; indeed, on board I always took my arm out when I wanted to use it, and he said himself that a certain amount of exercise was good for me." Monsieur Duchesne came home as usual just at sunset. Nat noticed that at dinner he was evidently preoccupied, though he endeavoured to join in the conversation as cheerily as usual. After the ladies had left the table he said: "You may have noticed that I am _distrait_, Monsieur Glover, but it is an anxious time for all of us on the island, and has been so, indeed, for some time. You see we are divided into three classes: there are the pure whites, the mulattoes, and the negroes, and even these are subdivided. There are the old settlers, men who, like myself, belong to noble French families, and who, I hope, keep up the best traditions of our country; there are the poor whites, landless men who are discontented with their position, and hate those who are better off, while they stand aloof from the mulattoes. These, again, are equally divided. Many of them are rich men with plantations. They send their sons and daughters over to France to be educated, and take it much amiss that we, who are of pure blood, do not associate with them. Then, again, there are the negroes, who number no fewer than five hundred thousand, while we whites are but forty thousand. We went on well enough together until the States General met in France. It was a bad affair that, for us as well as for France. From that time there has been a ferment. We sent over deputies, eighteen of them, but the Assembly only allowed six to take their seats, and while they snubbed us, the young mulattoes were treated with the greatest favour. "Then came the news that the Assembly had passed a declaration asserting all men to be free and equal. You may imagine what a shock this was to us. Some of the mulattoes, in their excitement, took up arms to show that they were free, but they were easily put down. However, when the National Assembly heard of the excitement and dissatisfaction caused among the French in all their colonies, they made another decree authorizing each colony to elect its own legislative assembly. Our assembly here lost their heads on finding power in their hands, and passed a constitution which practically renounced all allegiance to France. Some riots broke out, and things would have been very serious had not, on the eleventh of October last year (1790), a decree been passed by the National Assembly modifying the former one. However, on the fifteenth of May they passed another, declaring all people of colour in the French colonies, born of free parents, entitled to vote for members of the colonial assembly, and to be elected to seats themselves. "When the news came here six weeks ago, you can imagine the excitement. Meetings were held, and it was even proposed to throw off allegiance to France and to hoist the British flag instead of ours. Happily calmer thoughts came, and matters cooled down, but there can be no doubt that the state of affairs is critical. The mulattoes, who outnumber the whites, do not know how to contain themselves with joy, and disputes between them and the whites take place daily. Then there are the negroes. You see, the decree does nothing for them. It is hard to know what the negroes think, even whether they care that they are not to have a vote is not known to us. It is clear that it would be of little advantage to them, and, you see, no one who was not out of his mind could think of giving a vote to them, for their vote would be five times as large as that of the whites and mulattoes together. We should have an assembly composed entirely of slaves, and these slaves would at once vote that all the land and property in the island should be divided among themselves. What think you of that, Monsieur Glover?" "It would be madness indeed," Nat agreed. "Then, you see, even if they did not do that they would declare themselves free, and we should all be ruined. _Sapristi!_ it makes one's blood cold to think of such a thing. But, nevertheless, the negroes are like children, they can be led by a little talk, and among them there are men of some intelligence who could work the rest up to a state of madness. I do not say that this will come--Heaven defend us from such a calamity!--still, monsieur, you will comprehend that we all feel as if we were sitting on the edge of a volcano. Such strange things happen. What may not occur next? You will understand that I do not talk of these things before my wife and child. They, of course, know about the past, but as for the future they do not trouble themselves at all. I have spoken to some of my friends, and they laugh at the idea of the slaves rising. They say, truly enough, that they are far better treated here than in your British colonies. But then there has been no revolution in England. People have not been stirred up to a state of excitement. The nation has not lost its head, as in France. I say that it is possible there may be trouble with the slaves." "Not here, surely, monsieur? Your negroes seem to me to be contented and happy, and I am sure they are well treated." "That is undoubtedly so; but, as I told you, the negroes are like children, they will laugh one minute and scream with rage the next. There is never any saying what they may do. I can hardly bring myself to think that such a thing could happen, but I have taken to carrying pistols in my pockets, and I have stored some arms in that closet in the hall; at least I should have them handy, and I doubt not that the house servants will remain true, and I hope many of my slaves. It is for this that I have gathered the arms together." "But surely you would have warning?" "At the first whisper I should, of course, drive my wife and child down to the town, where we should be safe, for there the whites are strong, and we have no fear of an attack. However, we must trust that such a thing may never happen, or that if it does, it may be in the far distance. But come when it will, everyone should receive warning in plenty of time to make all preparations. It seems to me impossible that a plot of any magnitude could be passed from end to end of this island, and be known to so vast a number of negroes, without some of them warning their masters of the danger, for there are tens of thousands who are almost like members of their masters' families." "I should say it is quite impossible that any extensive plot could be hatched without its being known in a very short time to everyone," Nat agreed; "and in any case, although those who live far in the interior of the island might have reason to fear, should the negroes break out, I can hardly think that, within little more than an hour's drive from the city, you need feel any uneasiness whatever." "No, I feel that there ought to be no trouble here, at any rate unless there is a successful insurrection in other parts of the island; no doubt that would be infectious elsewhere. But the negroes near the town would be the last to join in such a movement, for they might be sure that the whites there would take speedy vengeance on all within their reach. However, let us think no more of it at present; my wife and Myra will be wondering what we can find to talk about so long." Nat lay awake for some time that night thinking of what Monsieur Duchesne had said. He had heard vaguely, while he was there before, of the manner in which the revolution in France had affected the island, but it was a subject that was little discussed at the planter's. Having all the feelings and prejudices of the old _noblesse_ of France, he had from the first been opposed to the popular movement in Paris, and had held himself altogether aloof from the demonstration on the island. The subject was painful to him, and he had seldom alluded to it in his family circle. It seemed to Nat inconceivable that any general movement could be planned among the blacks without warning being received by the planters. When he went out next day he looked with more attention than before at the slaves working on the plantations. It seemed to him that their demeanour was quieter than usual; the mulatto overseers seemed to pay less attention to them, and he was surprised to come upon three of them talking earnestly together, whereas, hitherto, he had always seen them on different parts of the estate. On the following morning, the 23rd of August, Monsieur Duchesne started as usual soon after seven o'clock, for the heat was now intense, and it was dangerous to be out after the sun had obtained its full power. An hour later Nat was sitting in the verandah behind the house with Madame Duchesne and Myra, when an old negress ran out; her eyes were wide open with terror and excitement, and her face was almost pale. "Madame and mam'selle must fly and hide themselves!" she exclaimed. "Nigger come in half an hour ago wid news dat slabes rise last night in many places all ober de country and kill all de whites. Dinah hear dat all people expect dat, only not for anober two days. Oberseers de leaders now. Dey come here quick wid all de field hands. Not a moment to be lost. Fly for your libes!" "Impossible!" Madame Duchesne exclaimed, as she and Myra sprang to their feet alarmed, but incredulous. "It may be true, madame," Nat exclaimed. "For God's sake run with Myra in among the shrubbery there; I will join you in a moment. If it is a false alarm all the better; but it may be true, and there is not a moment to lose. Do you hear those shouts?" A burst of yells and shouts rose in the air a short distance away. "Run! run!" Nat exclaimed as he dashed into the house, rushed to the closet in the hall, seized two brace of pistols, a sword, and half a dozen packets of cartridges for the pistols, and then ran out into the verandah just in time to see the white dresses of the ladies disappear into the shrubbery close to the entrance of the verandah. Some wraps which they sometimes put on to keep off the evening dew when they were sitting out of doors were hung up close by him. Hastily snatching these off their hooks, he dashed off at full speed, for the tumult was now approaching the front of the house. The ladies had stopped just within the cover of the bushes. "Run!" he cried; "there is not a moment to lose. They will be searching for us as soon as they find that we are not in the house." The belt of foliage extended all round the garden, and, keeping inside, they ran to the other end. Fortunately, adjoining the garden was a plantation of sugar-cane which had not yet been cut, for although the greater portion of the cane is cut in April, freshly made plantations planted at that time are not fit to cut until the autumn of the following year. The canes were ten feet high, and as the rows were three feet apart, there was plenty of room to run between them. Scarcely a word was spoken as they hurried along. The plantation was some four hundred yards across; beyond it stretched another of equal size, extending to the edge of the forest. The canes here, which had been cut four months before, were three feet high; at other times many negroes would have been at work hoeing the ground round the roots, but when Nat looked out cautiously from the edge of the higher canes not a soul was to be seen. "I think it is perfectly safe," he said; "but you had better put on the dark wraps, your light dresses would be seen a long distance away. We had better move a short distance farther to the right before we attempt to go straight on. If you will walk one after the other, treading in each other's steps, I will take off my shoes and follow you; that will destroy your traces, and the marks of my bare feet might be taken for those of a negro. Please do not lose a moment," he said, as he saw that Madame Duchesne was about to speak; "there will be time to talk when we get into the forest and settle what we had best do." They had gone but a few yards when Nat's eye caught sight of a hoe lying on the ground a short distance along one of the rows of the young canes. He ran and fetched it, the others stopping while he did so. Then as he went along he carefully obliterated his footsteps, and continued to do so until when, after walking thirty or forty yards farther, he turned into the young plantation. The surface of the ground was almost dust-dry, and between the rows of the growing canes a track had been worn by the feet of the slaves, who every two or three days hoed round the roots; here, therefore, there was no occasion to use the hoe, as the ground was so hard that his feet left no marks upon it. In a few minutes they entered the wood and went in some little distance; then they stopped. They could still hear the yells of the negroes, who, Nat doubted not, were engaged in plundering the house, after which he felt sure that there would be an eager search for the fugitives. The ground had been rising all the way. "I see you need a few minutes' rest," he said to Madame Duchesne, who was so much shaken that it was evident she could walk but little farther. "I will go back to the edge of the wood and see if there are any signs of their following us." Just as he reached the open ground there was a louder outburst than usual of exulting cries; he saw a column of smoke rising from the trees, and knew that the negroes had set the house on fire. He returned at once to the ladies. Madame Duchesne had sunk on the ground. Myra was kneeling beside her. "We must go on, madame," he said; "the scoundrels have fired the house." She rose to her feet. "I am better now," she said with a calmness that greatly pleased Nat. "It seemed a dream at first. What does it all mean, Nat?" for she as well as her daughter had come to address him by that name. "I fear it is a general rising of the blacks throughout the island," he replied. "Monsieur Duchesne told me last night that he thought such an event might possibly take place, but he made sure that if it occurred we should have ample warning. By what your old nurse said it must have been an arranged thing, to take place on the twenty-fifth, but something must have hurried it. I think, to begin with, we had better go half a mile farther into the forest. We can talk as we go." "Had we not better make straight for the town?" "I think not, though of course I will do whatever you believe to be best; but there are a score of plantations between us and the town, and I have no doubt that the slaves will have risen everywhere. Besides, if your own negroes fail to follow our track, they will make sure that we have gone in that direction, and will be on the look-out for us; therefore I think that for the present we had better remain in the forest." "But how can we live here?" she asked. "There will be no difficulty about that," he replied; "there are plenty of plantations of yams, and I can go down and dig them up at night. The young canes will quench your thirst if we fail to hit upon a spring, but we know that there are several of these among the hills, for we pass over five or six little streamlets on our way to the town." "I am sure Nat will look well after us," Myra said confidently; "besides, mamma, I am certain that you could not walk down there. You know you never do walk, and I cannot recollect your walking so far as you have done to-day." This indeed had been the chief reason why Nat had decided that they had better stay in the forest at present, although he had not mentioned it. Like all Creoles--as whites born in the islands were called in the French West Indies--Madame Duchesne was altogether unaccustomed to exercise, and beyond a stroll in the garden when the heat of the day was over, had not walked since her childhood. The heat, indeed, rendered a journey of any kind next to impossible during the greater part of the day. They had slaves to do their bidding, to wait on them, fetch and carry, and consequently even in the house they had no occasion for the slightest personal exertion. Madame Duchesne, being of a naturally more energetic temperament than are Creoles in general, was less indolent than the majority of the ladies of the island, but was wholly incapable of taking a walk of which English ladies would have thought nothing. She was already greatly exhausted by the excitement and the fatigue of their hasty flight, and to Nat it seemed at once that it was hopeless for her to think of attempting the journey of fifteen miles across a rough country. The forest grew thicker as they advanced, and after walking for half an hour Madame Duchesne declared that it was impossible for her to go farther. Nat was indeed surprised that she had held on for so long. She had been leaning on his arm, and he felt the weight becoming heavier and heavier every step. She was bathed in perspiration, her breath came in gasps, and he himself proposed a halt, feeling that she was at the end of her strength. CHAPTER VII IN HIDING "The first thing to do," Nat said, after he had seen that Madame Duchesne was as comfortably seated as possible, "is to find some sort of hiding-place. We may be sure that the negroes will search everywhere for you, and that, released from work and having nothing to do, they will wander about the woods, and one of them might come upon us at any moment. Therefore, unless we can find some sort of shelter, I dare not leave you for a minute." "But why should you leave us?" Myra asked. "We must eat and drink," he said. "I must endeavour to discover what is going on elsewhere; I must, if possible, obtain a disguise, and endeavour to find out what are the intentions of the blacks, and ascertain whether it will be possible to obtain help from the town; and I can begin to do nothing until I feel that you are at least comparatively safe. There is no doubt, Madame Duchesne, that our position is a very painful one, but we have a great deal to be thankful for. If the rising had taken place in the night, as no doubt it did at the plantations where the negroes began their work, we should all have been murdered without the chance of resistance. Now, we have escaped with our lives, and have the satisfaction of knowing that Monsieur Duchesne is safe in the town, and will assuredly do his best to rescue us; but that can hardly be yet. Cape François is no doubt in a state of wild panic, and will in the first place be thinking of how it can best defend itself." "There are, of course, many other planters there in the same position as your husband. Each will be thinking of his own people; nothing like a general effort will be possible. At any rate, it seems to me that it must be some time before any operations can take place to put down the insurrection. If one could but get hold of some messenger one could trust, and could let Monsieur Duchesne know that you are for the present safe, it would be an immense relief to him; but so far as we know at present that old nurse is the only one of your slaves who is faithful, and even if I could find her and get her to carry a note or a message, it is unlikely in the extreme that she would be permitted to pass on into the town. However, as I say, the first thing is to discover a hiding-place where you would be comparatively safe, and before I go to find a messenger I will look round for some clump of undergrowth where nothing but close search could find you. I think that those bushes we see across there would do for the moment. You cannot remain here, for you would be seen at once by anyone who came along within fifty yards of you. I will go and see at once whether it would do." Without waiting for an answer he hurried away. On examination he found that the place was more suitable than he had expected. A great tree had once stood there, and had been sawn off close to the ground. Round this a clump of bushes had sprung up, growing so thickly that it was impossible to see into the centre save by pushing aside the bushes and entering the little circle. He hastened back. "It will do excellently for our hiding-place for the present," he said, "and the sooner we are inside the better." He assisted Madame Duchesne to her feet, led her to the bushes, and then bent some of them very carefully aside. The ladies made their way in, and he followed them, seeing that each of the saplings fell back in its natural position. "There, madame," he said, "unless anyone took it into his head to push in as we have done we are absolutely safe. But it will be better that you should keep your dark cloaks on. I do not think that anyone could see through this thick screen of leaves, but it is as well to be on the safe side." "You won't leave us at present?" "Certainly not," he said. "After it gets dark I shall make my way down to the house. I must get a disguise of some sort; it does not matter much what it is, for I expect the slaves will be dressing up in the clothes they have stolen, no matter what they are. With some charred wood I can blacken my face and hands. No doubt anyone would see at once on looking at me closely that I was not a negro, but at a distance I should pass." "You would make a better mulatto than you would a negro," Myra said. "So I should; as they are all shades of colour, I should not have to be very particular." "If we had Dinah here with us," Myra said, "she could make you some dye. She knows all about berries and roots, and generally doctors any of the women who may be ill; she would know for sure of some berries that would stain your skin." "Well, I must see if I can find her, Myra. If not, I must use the charcoal, but certainly the other would be much the safer; and, you see, thanks to my long stay with you before, I have got to speak French very fairly now." The day passed slowly. Occasionally they heard shouts lower down in the forest, but these did not come near them, and after a time died away. "I thought they would hardly come up as far as this," Nat said; "negroes are not given to work unless they are obliged to, and they will find it so pleasant doing nothing that they are hardly likely to give themselves the trouble to search very far for us. Besides, doubtless they have other things to think about. They will know that their work has only begun when they have burnt their masters' houses, and killed all the white people they can lay their hands upon, and that until they have taken possession of the towns they are not masters of the island. No doubt, too, they carried out the wine before they burnt the house." "Besides," Myra said, "there is the rum store; there are at least a hundred barrels there." "Yes, I did not think of that. Well, I expect that before this the greater part of them are drunk, and I don't suppose there will be a sober man left to-night. That will make it an easy business for me to find out what they are doing, and to get hold of the things that will be useful to you. I am more afraid of the mulattoes than of the negroes." "Do you think that they would join the blacks?" "I have no doubt at all about it--I feel sure they have done so. I saw three of them talking together yesterday; they were paying no attention to the slaves, and I thought then that it was rather peculiar. Besides, we know that these lower class of mulattoes are as hostile to the whites as the negroes are, if not more so, and I have no doubt they have had a good deal to do with exciting the slaves to revolt. And now, Madame Duchesne, I will go down through the woods and get you some sugar-cane, and look for a stream." Madame Duchesne protested, but she was accustomed to have every want supplied as soon as expressed, and she was suffering much from thirst after the excitement and effort. "You really require something," Nat went on. "You see, if I go down after dark I may be away for two or three hours, and were you to wait till then you would be in a fever with thirst. It is evident that the negroes have all left the wood, therefore there can be no risk in my going down and cutting a dozen of the young canes." "If you go," she said firmly, sitting up as she spoke, "you must leave me two of your pistols--they are double-barrelled, are they not?" "Yes, madame." "Well, leave two. If the negroes come and begin to search this place I shall shoot Myra first and then myself, for death would be a thousand times preferable to falling into the hands of these wretches." "I think you are right there," Nat said gravely, "and if I thought that there would be the slightest fear of their coming I would not leave you. I shall not be away a quarter of an hour. I will leave my jacket and cap here, and tie a handkerchief round my head, so that should I by any chance come across a searcher, he will not recognize me until I am close enough to silence him. I shall take the sword as well as the other brace of pistols; it will be useful for cutting down the canes." Taking off his jacket and waistcoat, and tying his handkerchief round his head, he made his way through the bushes, and then started at a fast run down the hill, keeping, however, a sharp look-out as he went. As he expected, there were no signs of the blacks. As he reached the edge of the wood, and cut the canes, he could hear the sound of distant yells in the direction of the house. "The brutes have got at the rum," he said. "If I had but half a dozen blue-jackets, I believe I could clear the lot out. I do hope," he went on, as he started on his way back, "I shall be able to lay my hand on something to eat, and get hold of a bottle or two of wine. Madame will never be able to get on on yams and sugar-canes, accustomed as she has been to every luxury. Myra will be all right, she is a regular young brick." As he neared the clump of bushes he cried out cheerily: "All right, madame, I have got the canes, and have not caught sight of a negro." An exclamation of relief followed. Madame Duchesne and Myra were both standing as he entered, each with a pistol in her hand. "I was not alarmed by your footstep," she said, "for anyone who was searching for us would come along slowly and stealthily; but I thought you might be pursued." "If I had been," Nat laughed, "you may be very sure I should not have brought them this way, but would have given them a dance all over the place, and then slipped away and come back here." "I know that," she said earnestly, "but I am nervous and shaken." "Very naturally, too," Nat said: "you felt very much as I did when, after that explosion, I went on board the other pirate to drown the magazine. I believe that if anyone had given a shout close to me I should have tumbled headlong down on the deck. I think, now, we are perfectly safe till to-morrow. By the noises I heard down by the house I should say that most of the slaves are drunk already, and you may be sure that they will not think of starting to look for us till to-morrow. Now, if you will take my advice, you will try to sleep a bit." Accustomed to sleep for two or three hours during the heat of the day, Madame Duchesne was indeed feeling so drowsy that she could with difficulty keep her eyes open, and she now in the course of a few minutes was breathing quietly and regularly. "Now, Myra, do you watch by your mother while I go and look for water. That tiny stream that crosses the road a quarter of a mile above your house must come down not far from here, and it is essential that we should be near it." "But it is near water that they are most likely to look for us." "I did not think of that, Myra; of course it is. Well, then, we must move over this hill and hide up in the next little valley we come to. There is a road that turns off half a mile above your house. I never went far along it, but it seems to go right up into the heart of the hills." "I never went up it either, Nat, but I have heard my father say there were a good many small clearings up among the hills, some with twenty slaves, some with only two or three." "Then, when I come back from seeing how things are going on at the house, we had better make for that road, keeping along down at the end of the plantation until we come to it. It will be much better to keep straight along there till we pass some little valley where there is a stream, than to wander about in the wood; and we shall be farther away from those who may be looking after us. If your mother sleeps for two or three hours she will be able to go some little distance to-night." Myra shook her head doubtingly. "We must get her on," he added, "even if we have to carry her. It is all very well for us, because I am as hard as nails, and you do a lot of walking for a white girl here, but your mother is not strong. You saw how terribly exhausted she was when she got here, and it is quite likely that she may knock up altogether; therefore it is essential to get her into shelter. We are safe for to-day, but to-morrow we may have the negroes all over the hills, and it will have to be a wonderfully good hiding-place to escape their search." "But do you feel sure that they have risen on all the other plantations?" "I have not the least doubt that they have risen on every plantation in this neighbourhood. Your slaves were wonderfully well treated, and would not have joined unless they had known that it was a general rising. You know the old nurse said that it was to have been on the twenty-fifth, which means, of course, that it was a great plot all over the island. Of course in some places they may not have got the news yet, and may not rise for a day or two, but you may be sure that all around here it has been general." "But why should they want to kill us?" "Because they are really nothing but savages. Though they have in many cases been slaves for generations, still there are always fresh slaves arriving; and the others know that their fathers, like these, were captured and sold to the whites, that they had terrible times in the slave-ships, and are on some plantations treated like dogs, and are bought and sold just like cattle. I don't wonder at it that, now they have got a chance, as they think, they should take vengeance for all the ills they have suffered. When they are at war with each other in Africa they kill or enslave all who fall into their hands--men, women, or children--and you may be sure that they will show no mercy here. When I was down at the edge of the wood to cut those canes I could see smoke rising from a dozen points lower down. It is possible that some besides ourselves got warning in time, but I am afraid very few can have escaped; for you see, once beyond the line of wood, which does not go more than a mile or two further, there will be no hiding-places for them. There is only one comfort, and that is, the news must have got down to the town in a very short time, and there is no fear of your father driving out and being taken by surprise. My greatest hope lies in that old nurse of yours. She could do more in the way of helping us than we could do ourselves. She could go and get things, and hear what is going on. She is old, but she is a strong woman still, and could help to carry your mother, and attend to her if she is ill." "Do you think she is going to be ill?" Myra asked anxiously, looking at her mother. "I sincerely trust not, Myra, but I own that I am afraid of it. She is breathing faster than she did, and she has moved restlessly several times while we have been talking, and has a patch of colour on each cheek, which looks like fever. However, we must hope for the best. Anyhow, I shall bring Dinah up here if possible." So they talked till the sun went down. Madame Duchesne still slept, but her breathing was perceptibly faster. She occasionally muttered to herself, and scarcely lay still for a moment. "I will be going now," Nat said at last; "it will be pitch dark by the time I get down to the house; it is dark already here. You have the pistols, Myra, but you may be quite sure that no one will be searching now. I may have some difficulty in finding these bushes when I come back, but I will whistle, and when I do, do you give a call. I hope I shall bring Dinah back with me." "Oh, I do hope you will. She would be a comfort to us." Nat heard a quaver in her voice, which showed that she was on the point of breaking down. "You must not give way, Myra," he said. "You have been very plucky up to now, and for your mother's sake you must keep up a brave heart and hope always for the best. I rely upon you greatly. We may have many dangers to go through, but with God's help we may hope to rejoin your father. But we must be calm and patient. We have been marvellously fortunate so far, and shall, I hope, be so until the end. When I find out what the negroes intend to do we shall be able to decide upon our course. It may be that they will pour down from all the plantations within thirty or forty miles round and attack the town, or it may be that they will march away into the mountains in the interior of the island, in which case the road to the town will be open to us. Now, good-bye; I will be back as soon as I can." "Do not hurry," she said. "I will try to be brave, and I don't mind waiting, because I shall know that you are trying to get nurse, and of course it may be difficult for you to find her alone." "Good-bye, then," he said cheerfully, and passing through the bushes he went rapidly down the hill. On reaching the cane-field he again took off his shoes. He did not hurry now. It was a tremendous responsibility that he had upon his shoulders. He thought nothing of the danger to himself, but of how Madame Duchesne and her daughter were to be sheltered and cared for if, as he feared, the former was on the edge of an attack of fever, which might last for days, and so prostrate her that weeks might elapse before she would be fit to travel. "I must get Dinah at all costs," he said to himself. "She knows what will be wanted, and will be a companion to Myra when I have to be away." As he neared the place where the house had stood he heard sounds of shouting and singing coming from a spot near the storehouses, where a broad glow of light showed that a great bonfire was burning. He kept in the shrubbery until near the house, and then stepped out on to the grass. The house was gone, and a pile of still glowing embers alone marked where it had stood. Nat approached this, found a piece of charred timber that had fallen a short distance from it, and proceeded to blacken his face and hands. Then he turned towards the fire. As he had expected, it was not long before he came across the figure of a prostrate man, who was snoring in a drunken sleep. The stars gave sufficient light for him to see as he bent over him that he was a negro. He had attired himself in what when he put them on were a clean nankeen jacket and trousers, a part of the spoil he had taken in the sack of the house. Without ceremony Nat turned him over, and with some trouble removed the garments and put them on over his own. Then he took the red handkerchief that the negro had bound round his head and tied it on, putting his own bandana in his pocket. "Now," he said to himself, "I shall do, provided I keep away from the light of that fire. The first point is to find where Dinah has gone. I know she has a daughter and some grandchildren down at the slaves' huts. I should think I have most chance of finding her there." Turning off, he went to the huts, which lay two or three hundred yards away from the house. As he did so he passed near the houses in which the mulatto overseers lived. There were lights here, and he could hear the sound of voices through the open windows. "I will come back to them later on," he said, "I may hear something of their plans; but Dinah is the most important at present." He was soon among the slave huts. No one was about, the women being mostly up at the fire with the men. He looked in at the door of each hut he passed. As he was still without shoes his movements were noiseless. In a few of them women were cooking, or putting their children to bed. At the last hut of the first row which he visited an old negro woman was rocking herself in great grief, and two or three children were playing on the floor. Nat knew that he had come to the end of his search, by the blue cotton dress with large white spots that the woman wore. He went in and touched her. "Dinah," he whispered, "come outside!" She gave a little start of surprise, and then said to the children: "Now, you stop here, like good childer, Aunt Dinah is agoing out. If you keep quiet she tell you story when she comes in." [Illustration: "IT WAS NOT LONG BEFORE HE CAME ACROSS THE FIGURE OF A PROSTRATE MAN."] Then she went out with Nat without any appearance of haste. By long connection with the family she spoke French fairly well, whereas the negro patois, although mostly composed of French words, was almost unintelligible to him. "Tank de Lord dat you hab come back, Marse Glober. Dinah fret terrible all day. Am de ladies well? Whar you hide dem?" "They are up in the wood, Dinah. I am greatly afraid that Madame Duchesne is going to have fever, and you are sorely wanted there. Myra said she was sure that you would come when you knew where they were." "For suah me come, massa," she said. "What madame and Mam'selle Myra do widout Dinah? So you black your face?" "Yes, but I want some juice to make my face yellow like a mulatto. Anyone could see that I was not a negro in the daylight." "Dat so. Me bring 'tuff wid me. What you want beside?" "We shall want a bottle or two of wine if you can get them, and a jug of fresh water, and anything you can get in the way of eatables, and I should say a cooking pot. Those are the principal things." "Dere am plenty ob boxes of wine up near house. Dis black trash like rum better, leave wine for de mulattoes; dey bery bad man dose. Where you go now, Marse Glober? Me take some time to get de tings." "It would be a good thing, too, if you could get hold of enough cotton cloth to make dresses for them." The old woman nodded. "Plenty ob dat, sah. Storehouses all broke open, eberyone take what him like. Dis dreadful day, almost break Dinah's heart." "It has been a terrible day, Dinah, and I am afraid that the same bad work is going on everywhere." "So dey say, marse, so dey say. Where you go now, sah?" "I am going to the overseers' huts to hear what their plans are. Where shall I meet you, Dinah?" "Me take tings to bush just where you and de ladies ran in. Me make two or tree journeys, but me be as quick as can." "Do; it is anxious work for Myra there, and I want to get back as soon as I can. Her mother is asleep, and even if she wakes I do not think she will be able to talk much." "Me hurry, sah, but can't get 'tuff to stain you skin to-night. Find berries up in de wood to-morrow." "There is one other thing, Dinah. Can you tell me where to find a hand-barrow? I expect we shall have to carry your mistress." "Me know de sort ob ting dat you want, sah, dey carry tobacco leabes on dem. Dere are a dozen ob dem lying outside de end store." "All right, Dinah, I will take one as I go past. Now I will go." So saying, he turned and made his way to the overseers' house. He crept softly along to a lighted window. When in a line with it he stood up for a minute, knowing that those inside would not be able to see him, there being a screen of trees just behind him. The three mulattoes whom he had seen talking together in the field on the previous day were seated round a table. On it were placed two or three wine-glasses. All were smoking. "To-morrow we must get those drunken black hogs to work," one said, "and have a regular search through the woods. Everything has gone well except the escape of madame and her gal. Someone must have warned them. The house niggers all agree that they were in the verandah behind just before we came up, talking with that English lad. Of course they will be found sooner or later, there is nowhere for them to run to. The thing is, we want to find them ourselves. If anyone else came upon them they would kill them at once." "Yes, and you will have some trouble if you find them, Monti," one of the other men said. "These blacks have been told that every white must be killed. It is easy enough to work these fellows up into a frenzy, but it is not so easy to calm them down afterwards." "No, I am quite aware of that, Christophe, and that is why I did not press the search to-day, and why I was not sorry to find that they had got away." "You see, we have arranged that when the whites are all killed I am to marry madame, that Paul is to take the young one, and that we are to divide the place equally between the three of us." "If the negroes will let us," the one called Monti said. "I expect they will want to have a say in the business." "Yes, of course, that is understood. No doubt there will be trouble with them, and there is no saying how things will turn out yet. At any rate we will make sure of the women. I have gone into this more for the sake of getting the girl than for anything else." "We have made a good beginning everywhere, as far as we have heard, but you must remember that it is only a beginning. Even suppose the whites of the town do nothing, and I fancy we shall hear of them presently, they will send over troops from France." "They can do nothing against us up in the mountains," Christophe said scornfully. "That may be," the other said quietly; "but at any rate there are the blacks to deal with. They have risen against the whites, but when they have done with them we need not suppose for a moment that they are going to work for us. Luckily, here it has been the order that no slave is to be flogged without Duchesne's approving of it, and the result is that we are for the present masters of this plantation, but we have heard that at some of the other places the overseers as well as the whites have been killed. The order has gone through the island that all the whites, including women and children, are to be killed, and if we were to come across the women when we have forty or fifty of the blacks with us I don't think there would be a chance of our saving them. These negroes are demons when their blood is up. They know, too, that they have gone too far to be forgiven, and will believe that their safety depends upon carrying out the orders faithfully. It seems to me that we are in a rather awkward fix. If we don't take the blacks out to-morrow we sha'n't find them, if we do take them out they will be killed." "We ourselves may find them," Paul said. "Yes; and if you do, they will have that English lad with them." "We can soon settle him," Christophe growled. "Well, I don't say we couldn't; but you know how he fought that hound, and there was a report two days ago, from the town, that they have attacked the Red Pirate's stronghold, taken it, and destroyed his four ships. I grant that as we are three to one we shall kill him, but one or two of us may go down before we do so. Now, I tell you frankly that as I have no personal interest in finding those two women, I have no idea of running the risk of getting myself shot in what is your affair altogether. Any reasonable help I am willing to give you, but when it comes to risking my life in the matter I say, 'No, thank you.'" The others broke into a torrent of savage oaths. "Well," he went on calmly, "I am by no means certain that the English boy would not be a match for the three of us. We should not know where he was, but he would see us, and he might shoot a couple of us down before we had time to draw our pistols. Then it will be man against man; and I know that girl has practised shooting, so that the odds would be the other way. Now, I ask you calmly, is it worth it?" "What do you propose, then?" Paul asked sulkily, after a long silence. "I say that we had better wait till we can get hold of some of these blacks; a little money and a little flattery will go a long way with them. We can tell them that we have private orders that, although most of the whites have to be put to death, a few are to be kept, among them these two. We shall elect a president and generals, and it is right that they should have white women to wait on them, just as the whites have been having blacks. That is just the sort of thing that will take with these ignorant fools. Then with, say, ten men we might search the woods thoroughly, find the women, and hide them up somewhere under your charge; but we must go quietly to work. A few days will make no difference. We know that they can't get away. The men of the plantations lower down have undertaken to see that no whites make their way into the town. But it will not do to hurry the negroes, they are sure to be either sullen or arrogant to-morrow. Some of them, when they get over their drink, will begin to fear the consequences, others will be so triumphant that for a time our influence will be gone." "That is the best plan," Christophe said. "You have the longest head of us three, Monti. For a time it will be necessary to let the blacks have their own way." Nat, while this conversation went on, had been fingering his pistol indecisively. His blood was so fired by the events of the day, and the certainty that hundreds of women and children must have been murdered, that he would have had no hesitation in shooting the three mulattoes down. Indeed he had quite intended to do so, in the case at any rate of Paul and Christophe, when he learned their plans; the advice, however, of the other, who was evidently the leading spirit, decided him against this course. It was unlikely that he would be able to shoot the three, for at the first shot they would doubtless knock the candle over; besides, it was better that they should live. Evidently they would in some way persuade the great mass of the negroes not to trouble themselves to search the wood, and some days must elapse before they could get a party together on whom they could rely to spare the women and take them as prisoners. If they did so, and, as they proposed, put them in some hut in charge of Paul and Christophe, he would have a fair chance of rescuing them, if he succeeded in getting away at the time they were captured. At any rate, if they carried out their plans they would have some days' respite, and he could either take Madame Duchesne and Myra a good deal further into the hills, or might even be able to get them into the town. The mulattoes now began to talk of other matters--how quickly the insurrection would spread, the towns that were to be attacked, and the steps to be taken--and he therefore quietly made off, and waited for Dinah at the place agreed on. It was not long before she arrived with her first load. "I am here," he said as she came up. "Now, what can I do? I had better come and help you back with the other things. We can carry them in the hand-barrow." "Yes, sah. I'se got dem all together, de tings we talked of, and tree or four blankets, and a few tings for de ladies, and I'se taken two ob de best frocks I could find in de huts. I'se got de wine and de food in a big basket." "All right, Dinah; let us start at once, I am anxious to be back again as soon as possible." In ten minutes they returned with all the things. The basket of wine and provisions was the heaviest item. The clothes and blankets had been made up into a bundle. "Me will carry dat on my head," Dinah said, "and de barrow." "No, I can take that, Dinah, that will balance the basket; besides, you have that great jug of water to take. Now let us be off." After twenty minutes' walking they approached the spot where the ladies were in hiding, but it was so dark under the trees that Nat could not determine its exact position; he therefore whistled, at first softly and then more loudly. Then he heard a call some little distance away. He went on until he judged that he must be close, and then whistled again. The reply came at once some thirty yards away. "Here we are, Myra," he said; "nurse is with me." An exclamation of delight was heard, and a minute later he made his way through the bushes. "Mamma is awake," the girl said, "but she does not always understand what I say; sometimes I cannot understand her, and her hands are as hot as fire. I am glad Dinah is here." "You can't be gladder'n me, mam'selle. I hab brought some feber medicine wid me, and a lantern and some candles." "Would it be safe to light the lantern?" Myra asked. "Quite safe," Nat said; "there is no chance whatever of anyone coming along here; besides, we can put something round the lantern so as to prevent it from being seen from outside. You have brought steel and tinder, I hope, Dinah?" "Of course, marse, lamp no good widout; and I hab got sulphur matches, no fear me forget them." "Give them to me, Dinah, I will strike a light while you attend to your mistress." Dinah poured some water into a cup and then knelt down by Madame Duchesne. "Here, dearie," she said, "Dinah brought you water and wine and tings to eat. Here is a cup of water, I am sure you want it. Let me lift you up to drink it." She lifted her and placed the cup in her hands, and she drank it off eagerly. "Is that your voice, Dinah?" she said after a pause. "Yes, madame; I'se come up to help to take care ob you. Marse Glober come and tell me whar you were, so you may be suah that me lose no time, just wait to get a few tings dat you might want and den start up." "I think I am not very well, Dinah." "Jess a little poorly you be. Bery funny if you not poorly abter sich wicked doings. Now de best ting dat you can do is to go to sleep and not worry." "Give me another drink, Dinah." "Here it is, dis time a little wine wid de water and a little 'tuff to make you sleep quiet. Den me double up a blanket for you to lie on and put anober over you, and a bundle under your head, and den you go to sleep firm. No trouble to-night; to-morrow morning we go on." Madame Duchesne drank off the contents of the cup. She was made as comfortable as circumstances would permit, and it was not long before her regular breathing showed that the medicine that Dinah had administered had had the desired effect. "Now, Myra," Nat said, "we will investigate the contents of the basket. I am beginning to get as hungry as a hunter, and I am sure that you must be so too." "I am thirsty," the girl said, "but I do not feel hungry." "You will, directly you begin. Now, Dinah, what have you brought us?" "Dere am one roast chicken dar, Marse Glober. Dat was all I could get cooked. Dere are six dead ones. I caught dem and wrung their necks jest before I started. Dey no good now. Dere is bread baked fresh dis morning before de troubles began, and dere is two pine-apples and a big melon." "Bravo, Dinah! You have got knives?" "Yes, sah, four knibes and forks." "We could manage without the forks, Dinah, but it is more comfortable having them. Now we will cut the chicken up into three. It looks a fine bird." "I'se had my dinner, sah; no want more." "That is all nonsense, Dinah," he said. "I am quite sure that you did not eat much dinner to-day, and you will want your strength to-morrow." Dinah could not affirm that she had eaten much, and indeed she had scarcely been able to swallow a mouthful in the middle of the day. The meal was heartily enjoyed, and they made up with bread and fruit for the shortness of the meat ration. "Now you two lie down," Nat said after they had chatted for an hour. "I am accustomed to night watches and can sleep with one ear open, but I am convinced that there is not the slightest need for any of us keeping awake. When the lantern is out, which it will be as soon as you lie down, if all the negroes came up into the woods to search for us I should have no fear of their finding us." Dinah, however, insisted upon taking a share in watching, saying that she was constantly sitting up at night with sick people. Finding that she was quite determined, Nat said: "Very well, Dinah. It is ten o'clock now. I will watch till one o'clock, and then you can watch till four. We shall be able to start then." "It won't be like light till five. No good start troo wood before that. I'se sure to wake at one o'clock. I'se accustomed to wake any hour so as to give medicines." "Very well, Dinah; I suppose you must have your way." Myra and the nurse therefore lay down, while Nat sat thinking over the events of the day and the prospects of the future. He had said nothing to the negress of the conversation that he had overheard, as on the way from the house they had walked one behind the other and there had been no opportunity for conversation, and he would not on any account have Myra or her mother know the fate that these villains had proposed for them. He wondered now whether he had done rightly in abstaining from shooting one of them, but after thinking it over in every way he came to the conclusion that it was best to have acted as he did, for they clearly intended to do all in their power to save mother and daughter from being massacred at once by the negroes. "Even if the worst comes to the worst," he said to himself, "they have pistols, and I know will, as a last resource, use them against themselves." CHAPTER VIII A TIME OF WAITING Dinah woke two minutes before one o'clock, and Nat at once lay down and, resolutely refusing to allow himself to think any more of the situation, was soon fast asleep. "It am jess beginning to get light, Marse Glober," the negress said when, as it seemed to him, he had not been five minutes asleep. However, he jumped up at once. "It is very dark, still, Dinah." "It am dark, sah, but not so dark as it was. Bes' be off at once. Must get well away before dem black fellows wake up." "How is Madame Duchesne?" "She sleep, sah; she no wake for another tree or four hours. Dinah give pretty strong dose. Bes' dat she should know noting about it till we get to a safe place." "But is there any safe place, Dinah?" "Yes, massa; me take you where dey neber tink of searching, but good way off in hills." Myra by this time was on her feet also. "Have you slept well, Myra?" "Yes, I have slept pretty well, but in spite of the two blankets under us it was awfully hard, and I feel stiff all over now." "How shall we divide the things, Dinah?" "Well, sah, do you tink you can take de head of de barrow? Dat pretty heaby weight." "Oh, nonsense!" Nat said. "Madame Duchesne is a light weight, and if I could get her comfortably on my back I could carry her any distance." "Dat bery well before starting, Marse Glober, you tell anoder story before we gone very far." "Well, at any rate, I can carry a good deal more than one end of the barrow." "Well, sah, we put all de blankets on de barrow before we put madame on it, and put de bundle of clothes under her head. Den by her feet we put de basket and oder tings. Dat divide de weight pretty fair." "But what am I to carry, nurse, may I ask?" "You just carry yourself, dearie; dat quite enough for you. It am a good long way we hab to go, and some part of it am bery rough. You do bery well if you walk dat distance." "That is right, Myra," Nat agreed. "We don't want to have to carry both you and your mother, and though you have walked a good deal more than most of the girls of your own class you have never done anything like this." In a few minutes the preparations were completed. Madame Duchesne was laid on the barrow, and the basket and other things packed near her feet. Dinah took up the two front handles, Nat those behind, and, with Myra walking by the side, they started. "Which way are we going, Dinah?" "Me show you, sah. We go up for some way, den we come on path; two miles farder we cross a road, and den strike into forest again by a little valley wiv a tiny stream running down him. After walk for an hour we cross ober anoder hill all cohered wiv trees and find soon anoder stream, quite little dere; hab a mile we follow him, den we find a place where we 'top. We long way den from any plantation, dat quite wild country." "Then how do you know the place, Dinah?" "Me'se not been dere for thirty years, Marse Glober, me active wench den, twenty year old, me jest marry my husband, he dead and gone long ago. He hab a broder on anoder plantation; dere bery bad oberseer, he beat de slabes bery much. Jake he knock him down with hoe, and den take to de hills; my husband know de place where he hide, and took me to it one night, so dat I could find it again and carry food to him, cause he not able to get away, hab to work on plantation. Me had a little pickanniny and could 'teal away widout being noticed, and me went dere seberal times; den oberseer killed by anoder slabe, and de master, who was good man, he come out to enquire about it. When he heard how de slabe had been treated, he bery angry and say it sarbe oberseer right. When I heard dat I spoke to de ole marse, de grandfather ob dis chile you know, he bery good man, like his son, and he went to de plantation and got de marster to promise dat if Jake came back to work again he should not be punished. And he kept his word. Dat is how me came to know ob dis place. Since dat time me know dat many slabes hab hidden dere. Now dat de slabes are masters, for suah dey not want to go near dat place, and neber dream dat Madame and Mam'selle Myra know of dat place and go and hide dere." By the time that they reached the path daylight had fairly broken. "We are not likely to meet anyone here, I hope, Dinah?" "No, sah, de blacks in de plantations dey go down by the road we shall cross--suah to do dat to get quick the news ob what am going on in oder places. If one come along here, dey see you black, and tink you nigger like demselves. Mam'selle must slip into de bush, now she got dat gown on, no one s'pect her being white a little way off. Den if dere is only one or two, you shoot dem as soon as dey come up, if dar many of them--but dere no chance ob dat--must make up some story." "I am afraid that no story would be any good, Dinah; if they came close they would see at once that I am not a negro. However, we must hope that we sha'n't meet anyone." Nat felt his arms ache a good deal before they arrived at the road they had to cross, and he would have proposed a halt, but he was ashamed to do so while Dinah was going on so steadily and uncomplainingly, though he was sure that her share of the weight was at least as much as his. He was pleased when, as the path approached the road, she said: "Put de barrow down now, Marse Glober. You go down on de road and see dat no one is in sight, but me not tink dere am any danger. I know dat dey rose at all dese little plantations up here yesterday; dere is suah to be rum at some ob dem, and dey will all drink like hogs, just as dey did at our place, and won't be stirring till de sun a long way up." In a minute he returned. "There is no one in sight, Dinah." "Dat is all right, sah, now we hurry across; once into de wood on de ober side we safe, den we can sit down and rest for a bit." "I sha'n't be sorry, Dinah. You were quite right, my arms have begun to ache pretty badly." The negress laughed. "Me begin to feel him too; dese arms not so young as dey were. De time was I could hab carried de weight twice as far widout feeling it." When a few hundred yards in the wood they stopped for a quarter of an hour, had a drink of wine and water, and ate a slice of melon and a piece of bread. "Now we manage better," Dinah said as they stood up to continue the journey. "We hab plenty of blankets," and taking one she tore off a strip some six inches wide and gave it to Nat, and then a similar strip for herself. "Now, sah, you lay dat flat across your shoulders, den take de ends and twist dem tree or four times round de handle, just de right length, so dat you can hold dem comfor'ble. I'se going to do de same. Den you not feel de weight on your arm, it all on your shoulders; you find it quite easy den." Nat found, indeed, that the weight so disposed was as nothing to what it had been when it came entirely upon his arms. They soon descended into the little valley Dinah had spoken of, and she at once emptied the rest of the water out of the jug. "No use carry dat," she said, "can get plenty now wheneber we want it." "How are you feeling, Myra?" Nat asked presently. "I am beginning to feel tired, but I can hold on for a bit. Don't mind about me, please, I shall do very well." She was, however, limping badly. After going to the end of the little dip they crossed the dividing spur, and presently struck the other depression of which Dinah had spoken. "There is no water here, Dinah; I hope it has not dried up." "No fear ob dat, sah. In de wet season water run here, but not now; we find him farder down." The little valley deepened rapidly, the sides became rocky and broken, and to Nat's satisfaction they presently came to a spot where a little rill of water flowed out from a fissure in the rock. "How much farther, Dinah?" "A lillie quarter ob a mile." The sides of the valley closed in rapidly, and in a few minutes they entered a ravine where the rocks rose perpendicularly on each side, the passage between being but seven or eight feet wide. "We jest dere now, dearie," Dinah said to Myra, who was now so exhausted that she could scarce drag her feet along. Another three or four minutes and she stopped. "Here we are," she said. Nat looked round in surprise; there was no sign of any opening in the rock. "It up dere," Dinah went on, pointing to a clump of bushes growing on a ledge. "Up there, Dinah?" "Yes, sah; easy for us to climb up. You see where dere are little steps made?" A casual observer would not have noticed them. They were not cut but hammered out of the rock, and appeared like accidental indentations. "I see that we can climb up," he said, "but how we are to get the litter up I have no idea." "No, sah, dat difficult. I'se been tinking it ober. Only possible way is to take madame off de barrow and carry her up. You go up once or twice, and you see dat it am not so hard as it seems. Dese lower holes not deep, but dose higher up much deeper, can get foot well into dem." "I had better go up and have a look, Dinah," and Nat started to ascend. He found that, as she had said, it was much easier than it looked. The first four or five steps, indeed, were so shallow that he could not get much foothold, but above there were holes for the feet some six or eight inches deep, and three or four feet apart, these being hidden from the sight of anyone passing below by a projecting ledge beneath. The holes were much wider than necessary, the corners had been filled with earth and tufts of coarse grass planted there, and these completely hid the openings from sight. He soon reached the clump of bushes. Behind them was a fissure some three feet wide and four feet high. He crawled into this, and found that it widened into a cave. He was here able to stand up, remaining motionless for a minute or two until his eyes became accustomed to the dim light. Then he saw that it was of considerable height, some twelve feet wide and about twenty feet deep. This was indeed an admirable place of refuge, and he felt sure that no one, unless previously acquainted with its existence, would be likely to discover it. He went to the entrance and looked out. Myra was sitting down by the side of a little pool. She had taken her shoes and stockings off, and was bathing her blistered feet. "This is a splendid place, Myra," he said; "certainly nobody is ever likely to find us here. The only difficulty is to get your mother up." He at once rejoined them below. "The difficulty, Dinah, is that the face of the rock is so steep that one cannot stoop forward enough to keep one's balance with the weight on one's back. The only possible way that I can conceive is to fasten Madame Duchesne firmly to the barrow by these strips of blanket that we have been using. We can tear several more from the same blanket. It will want at least half a dozen lashings to keep her firmly down, then we must knot the other blankets to make a strong rope. I will go up with the end and pull when I get to the top. You can take the lower handles, and by holding them on a level with your shoulders you can steady the thing as it comes up. You won't want to lift, I can pull her weight up easily enough, all that you have to do is to steady it." "Dat will do bery well, sah." Six strips of blanket were wound round Madame Duchesne as she lay on the hand-barrow; one was across her forehead so as to prevent her head from dropping forward, one was under the arms, and two more round the body, the other two were over her legs. The baskets and other things had been taken from the barrow. It was now lifted on to one end to see if there was any sign of the body slipping. However, it remained firm in its upright position. The blankets had already been knotted by Nat, whose training enabled him to fasten them so securely that there was no risk of their slipping. Then he ascended to the top of the steps and took his place on the little platform on which the bushes were growing. "Now," he said, "I will raise it a few inches to see that it is properly balanced." He had already seen that the proposal that Dinah should steady it from below was not feasible. Although the first step was immediately below the bushes, the others varied considerably, some being almost in the same line as those next to them, so that two-thirds of the way up the holes were six feet to the right of the spot from which they had started, having evidently been so constructed that from below, had anyone noticed them, they appeared to go away from the bushes, to which, from the last hole that could be seen from below, there was no communication whatever. The ledge, however, although scarce noticeable from the bottom of the ravine, was really some eight inches wide, and from this but one step was necessary to gain a footing on the platform. Dinah, standing below, steadied the barrow as high as she could reach the ends of the handles, and Nat then, leaning over, managed to raise it to his level without doing more than scraping the face of the rock as it rose. Dinah was on the ledge to receive it and pass it up to him, and Nat had soon the satisfaction of seeing it laid safely down in the cave. Myra was then got up without any difficulty. She clapped her hands as she entered the cave. "This is splendid, Nat! I never dreamt that there could be such a safe hiding-place." "It had to be, mam'selle," Dinah said, "for dey hunt runaway slabes with blood-hounds. Slabes dat escape here keep all de way in de water. De bit between de pools is all bare rock, not nice to walk on, but bery good for scent, dat pass off in very short time, den walk down here in dis water dat you see below us. Eben blood-hounds cannot smell track in water. If dey came down here might smell de steps, but neber come here." "Could they come up the other way, Dinah?" "You go and look for yourself, sah, but mind you be careful." The wrappings had now been taken off Madame Duchesne, and the blankets replaced beneath her. She was still apparently sound asleep. Dinah took up the jug and went to the entrance, Nat followed her. "You have not given her too strong a dose I hope, Dinah?" "No, sah, no fear ob dat, she soon wake now. I shall sprinkle water in her face, and pour a lillie wine down her troat, you see she wake den." "Will she be sensible, Dinah?" "Not at first, sah. She 'tupid for a bit, abter dat it depend on feber. If feber strong, she no sensible, talk to herself just as if dreaming; if feber not very strong she know us, but more likely not know us for some time. Me got feber medicine, neber fear. Feber come on too quick to be bery strong. When feber come on slow, den it seem to poison all ober, take long time to get well; when it come on sudden like this, not like to be bery bad." "Well, we must have patience, Dinah, and hope for the best. Now I will go down with you and fetch all the things up." As soon as these were all housed in the cave, Nat said to Myra, "I will explore down the stream and see what chance there is of anyone coming up that way. Dinah evidently thinks that there is no fear of it, but I should like to see for myself." Fifty yards farther on there was a sharp widening of the ravine, and here some trees and thick undergrowth had taken root, and so overhung the little stream that Nat had difficulty in making his way through them. He remembered Dinah's warning, and advanced cautiously. Suddenly he stopped. The stream fell away abruptly in front of him, and, advancing cautiously to that point, he stood at the edge of an abrupt fall. A wall of almost perpendicular rock rose on each side, and the streamlet leaped sheer down fifty feet into a pool; as far as he could see the chasm remained unbroken. "Splendid," he said to himself; "no one coming up here would be likely to try farther. The bushes regularly interlace over the water, and there seems no possible way of climbing up, at any rate, within a quarter of a mile of this place, and for aught I know this ravine may go on for another mile. Any party coming up would certainly conclude that no slave could approach this way, and they would have to make a tremendous detour over the hills and get to the point where the valley comes down to the cave. It is certainly a grand hiding-place. I suppose when it was first discovered those bushes did not grow in front of it; likely enough they were planted on purpose to hide the entrance, and the place may have been used by escaped slaves ever since the Spaniards first landed on the island and began to persecute the unfortunate natives. Unless some of the negroes who know of it put the mulattoes up to the secret, they may search as much as they like but will never find us. I must ask Dinah whether there are many who know of it." On returning to the cave he found that Madame Duchesne had wakened from her long sleep. She was, however, quite unconscious; her eyes were opened, and she was muttering rapidly to herself. Myra was sitting beside her with the tears streaming down her cheeks. "You must not be alarmed," he said. "Dinah told me she would be so when she woke up, but she thinks that though the attack of fever will be a sharp one, it will not last very long. It is not, as is the case with new-comers on the island, the result of malaria, or anything of that sort, but of agitation and fatigue." "Hab you been down de stream, Marse Glober?" Dinah asked. "Yes, and you were quite right. There is no fear whatever of any one coming to look for us from that direction. Are there many negroes who know the secret of this place?" "Bery few," she said. "It am tole only to men who are going to take to de hills, and who can't go farder, 'cause perhaps dey been flogged till dey too weak to travel many miles. Each man who is tole has to take a great oath dat he suah tell no one except anober slabe running away, or someone who hab to go to take food to him; dat is how I came to know. Jake had been tole when dey knew he going to run away. He tole his broder, my husband, cause he had been flogged so bad he could not go to de mountains. Den my husband tole me, 'cause he could not get away wid de food. I neber tell anyone till now, cause dere no occasion for it; slabes treated too well at our plantation to want to run away. But dere am no doubt dat dere am slabes in oder plantations dat know of him, but me no tink dey tell. In de first place dey take big oath, and dey suah to die ef dey break dat; in de next place, because dey no tell dem mulattoes, because some day perhaps dese will be oberseers again, and den de secret of de cave be no longer ob use." "That is good, Dinah; those scoundrels I overheard talking the other night will no doubt ask if any of the negroes know of any place where we should be likely to hide, and if no one knows it but yourself they would be able to get no information, and it is hardly likely that they would ask the negroes of another plantation. Now, what is the first thing to be done, Dinah?" "De first ting, sah, is to gader sticks to make fire." "All right. I will go up the ravine and bring down a bundle of dry sticks from the forest. I will get them as dry as possible, so as not to make a smoke." "No fear of anyone see smoke, massa. We no want great fire, and smoke all scatter before it get to top of de trees up above." "Well, I will get them at once," he said. "I will pluck two of the fowls while you are away," Myra said. "I want to be doing something." "When you come back, sah, I will go out and gader berries to make colour for your face. When you hab got dat done, not much fear of your being known." "You will have to get something to colour my hair, too," Nat said. "I never could pass as a mulatto with this yellowish-brown hair." "Dat for true," Dinah assented. "I'se brought 'tuff to make dat, but had no time to look for berries for skin. When you come back we make fire first; me want boiling water for de med'cine me make for madame." "Yes, of course, that is the first thing," Nat said. "And when you go anywhere to get provisions, Dinah, it would be a good thing if you could get us a few yards of cord; it would be very handy for tying up faggots, and would be useful in all sorts of ways." "Me will see about dat, sah. Me forgot 'im altogeder when me came away, else would have brought a length; but you will find plenty ob creepers dat will do bery well to tie up faggots." "So I shall, Dinah; I forgot that," and Nat started at once. In an hour he was back again with a huge bundle of dry wood. "Where would you light it?" he asked. "Jest inside entrance, sah. Dis good wood dat you hab brought, make bery lillie smoke." After a little water had been boiled and Dinah had stewed some herbs and chips of wood she had brought up with her, the two fowls were cut up and the joints spitted on the ramrod of a pistol and grilled over the fire, as in this way they would cook much more rapidly than if whole. As soon as they were ready the party made a hearty meal. The medicine was by this time cool, and Madame Duchesne was lifted up and the cup held to her lips. She drank the draught without difficulty. Her face was now flushed, and her hands burning hot. "What will that do, Dinah?" "Dat most de bark of a tree dat will get de feber down, sah. I'se going to gib her dat ebery two hours; den when we see dat de feber abate, we give her oder stuff to trow her into great sweat; abter dat she get better. Now, while I am away, mam'selle, you boil water, cut up half ob one of dem pine-apples, and when de water boil take 'im off de fire and put de pine-apple in; and let 'im cool, dat make bery nice drink for her. Now me go and find dem berries." Dinah was away two hours, and returned with an apronful of brown berries; and with these, after Nat had washed all the black from his face and hands, he was again stained, as was Myra also. She had rather a darker tinge given to her than that which was considered sufficient for Nat. "It make you too dark, sah; yo' light eyes show too much. Mam'selle hab brown eyes and dark hair, and me make her regular little mulatto girl. When get handkerchief round her head, and wid dat spot gown on, no one 'spect her ob being white." "You have brought in a great supply of berries, Dinah?" "Yes, sah; put on stain fresh ebery two or tree days." When it became dusk the candle was taken out of the lantern, lighted, and stuck against the side of the cave. Dinah opened a bag and took out a handful of coffee berries, which she roasted over the fire in a small frying-pan which she had brought in addition to the pot. When they were pounded up between two stones, some sugar was produced, and had it not been for Madame Duchesne's state Myra and Nat would have really enjoyed their meal. Then Dinah took from the basket a bundle of dried tobacco leaves, rolled a cigar for Nat and one for herself. "Dat is what me call comfort," she said, as she puffed the weed with intense enjoyment. "Bacca am de greatest pleasure dat de slabes hab after their work be done." "It is a nasty habit, Dinah. I have told you so a great many times." "Yes, mam'selle, you tink so. You got a great many oder nice tings a slabe not got, many nice tings; but when dey got bacca dey got eberyting dey want. You no call it nasty, Marse Glober?" "No; I like it. I never smoked till after I got that hurt from the dog, but not being able to do things like other fellows, I took to smoking. I like it, and the doctor told me that it was a capital preventive against fever." "Do they allow smoking on board ship, Nat?" "Well, of course it is not allowed on duty, and it is not allowed for midshipmen at all; but of an evening, if we go forward, the officers on watch never take any notice. And now about to-morrow, Dinah. Of course I am most anxious to know what the news is, and whether this rising has extended over the whole of the island, and if it is true that everywhere they have murdered the whites." "Yes, sah, me understand dat." "Then I want, if it is possible, to send a line down to Monsieur Duchesne to let him know that his wife and daughter have escaped and are in a place of safety. He must be in a terrible state. The question is, how would it be possible to send such a note?" "Me tink dat me could manage it, sah. My grandson Pete bery sharp boy. Me tink he might manage to get down to de town, but de letter must be a bery lillie one, so dat he can hide it in him woolly head. He might be searched, and dey kill 'im for suah if dey find he take letter to white man. He sharp as a needle, and often take messages from one of our slabes to anoder on plantation eber so far away. Me quite suah dat he bery glad to carry letter for mam'selle--make him as proud as peacock. When dey in der senses all de slabes lobe her because she allus speaks kindly to dem. He go suah enough, and bring message back." "It is lucky that I have a pencil with me," Nat said, and drawing out a pocket-book he tore out a leaf. "Now, if you will tell me what to say, Myra, I will write in your name." He went over to the candle. "You must cut it very short, you know. I will write it as small as I can, but you must not send more than one leaf." _Dearest Papa_, Myra dictated, _we have got away. Dinah warned us in time, and mamma, Nat, and I ran up through the shrubbery and the cane-fields to the forest. When it got dark--"After dark_" Nat put in, "you must not use more words than is necessary "--_Nat went down, found Dinah, and brought her up, and they brought lots of things for us, and next morning carried mamma to this place, which is in the mountains and very safe. Mamma has got fever from the fright we had, but Dinah says she will not be ill long. We are both dressed up in Dinah's clothes, and Nat and I have been stained brown, and we look like mulattoes. Do not be anxious about us; the negroes may search everywhere without finding us. Nat has a brace of pistols, and mamma and I have one each, and he will take care of us and bring us down safe as soon as Dinah thinks it can be done. I hope to see you again soon._ _Your most loving_ _MYRA._ "That just fills it," Nat said as he rolled it up into a little ball. Dinah looked at it doubtfully. "I'se feared dat too big to hide in him wool," she said; "it bery kinky." "Never mind that. He must manage to straighten it out and sew it somewhere in his clothes. What time will you start, Dinah?" "Me start so as to get down to de plantation before it get light. Me can find de way troo de wood easy 'nuff. It bery different ting to walk by oneself, instead ob having to carry madame and to take 'tickler care dat she goes along smoove and dat de barrow doesn't knock against anyting. Best for me to be back before anyone wake up. Me don't suppose anyone tink of me yesterday. Me told my darter Chloe dat she say noting about me. If anyone ask her, den she say: 'Mover bery sad at house being burnt down and madame and mam'selle run away. I tink she hab gone away to be alone and hab a cry to herself, cause as she nurse both ob dem she bery fond of dem, and no like to tink dat perhaps dey be caught and killed.' But me no 'spect dat anyone tink about me; dey hab oder tings to tink of. If I had run into wood when you run dere, dey know dat I give you warning and perhaps show you some place to hide, but abter you had gone I ran in again and met dem outside wid de oder house servants. I top dere and see dem burn de house, and den walk down to Chloe's house and talk to oder women; so no one tink dat I know more 'bout you dan anyone else." "That was very wise, Dinah. Now mind, what we particularly want to know is not only what the negroes have done, but what they are going to do. Are they going to march away to the hills, or are they going to attack the town?" Dinah nodded. "Me see all about dat, sah. Now, mam'selle, don't you forget to gib your mamma de medicine ebery two hours!" "I sha'n't forget, Dinah." Dinah took up the basket. "Me bring up bread and more chicken, and more wine if dey hab not drunk it all. Now keep up your heart, dearie; eberyting come right in de end," and with a cheerful nod she started on her errand. "Your nurse is a trump, Myra," Nat said. "We should feel very helpless without her, though of course I should do what I could. When she comes back to-morrow I will go out myself. I hate to sit here doing nothing when all the island is in a blaze." "I wish I knew what has become of the family of Madame Bayou. Her daughter Julie is my greatest friend. You know them well, Nat, for we drove over there several times when you were with us, and Madame Bayou and Julie often spent the day with us. Of course they were not quite of our class, as Monsieur Bayou is only superintendent to the Count de Noe, who has been in France for some years; but he is a gentleman by birth, and, I believe, a distant relation of the count's, and as they were our nearest neighbours and Julie is just my age we were very intimate." "Yes, of course I remember them well, and that coachman of theirs. I generally had a talk with him when they were over at your place. He was a wonderfully intelligent fellow for a negro. He told me that he had been taught by another black, who had been educated by some missionaries. He could read and write well, and even knew a little Latin." "Yes, I have heard papa say that he was the most intelligent negro he had ever met, and that he was very much respected by all the negroes round. I know M. Bayou had the greatest confidence in him, and I can't help thinking that even if all the others broke out he would have saved the lives of the family." "If you like I will go down and see to-morrow evening. I agree with you that it is likely he would be faithful, but he may not have been able to be so. However much he may be respected by the other blacks, one man can do very little when a crowd of others half mad with excitement are against him; and I suppose after all that it would be only natural that his sympathies should be with men of his own colour, and being so exceptionally well educated and intelligent he would naturally be chosen as one of their leaders. However, he may have warned the family, and possibly they may be hiding somewhere in the woods just as we are. I should hope that a great many families have been saved that way." "Will it be necessary to keep watch to-night, Nat?" "No, I do not think there is any risk. Even the negroes who know of this cave will not think of looking for us here, as they would not imagine we could be acquainted with its existence. I think we can safely take a good night's rest, and we shall be all the better for it." It was not till nearly daylight on the second day after starting that Dinah returned. "Me not able to get away before," she said. "In de first place me hab to wait till boy come back wid answer. Here 'tis," and she pulled a small pellet of paper from her hair. Myra seized it and flattened it out. _Thank God for the good news. I have been nearly mad. At present can do nothing. We expect to be attacked every hour. God protect you both._ There was no signature. Monsieur Duchesne was evidently afraid that, were the note to fall into the hands of the revolting leaders, a fresh search would be instituted by them. "Dat boy bery nearly killed," Dinah said. "He creep and crawl troo de blacks widout being seen, and get close to de white men out guarding de place. Dey seize him and say he spy, and bery near hang him; den he took out de paper just in time, and said it for Massa Duchesne; den dey march him to town, woke up massa, and den, ob course, it was all right. It too late to come back dat night, but he crawl out and lie close to where dose black rascals were watching. Directly it get dark he get up, he crawl troo dem, and run bery hard back, and directly he gib me paper I start back here." "That was very good of him," Myra said; "when these troubles are over, Dinah, you may be sure that my father will reward him handsomely." "Me suah of dat, mam'selle. He offer him ten louis, but Jake say no, if he be searched and dat gold found on 'im dey hang 'm up for suah. Marse say bery good, do much more dan dat for him when dese troubles ober. And now, dearie, how is madame going on?" and she went to the side of Madame Duchesne, put her hand on her forehead, and listened to her breathing. She turned round with a satisfied nod. "Feber nearly gone," she said; "two or tree days she open eyes and know us." "And how did you get on, Dinah?" "Me hab no trouble, sah; most ob de black fellows drunk all de day long. Nobody noticed dat Dinah was not dere. Some of de women dey say, 'What you do all day yesterday, Dinah?' and me say, 'Me ill, me no like dese doings.' Dey talk and say, 'Grand ting eberyone be free, eberyone hab plenty ob land, no work any more.' I say, 'Dat so, but what de use ob land if no work? where dey get cloth for dress? where dey get meal and rice? Dey tink all dese things grow widout work. What dey do when dey old, or when dey ill? Who look after dem?' Some ob dem want to quarrel; oders say, 'Dinah old woman, she hab plenty sense, what she say she say for true.' Me tell dem dat me no able to 'tand sight ob house burnt, no one at work in fields, madame and darter gone, no one know where--perhaps killed. Dinah go and live by herself in de wood, only come down sometimes when she want food. She say dat to 'splain why she go away and come back sometimes." "A very good idea, very good," Nat said warmly; "the women were not wrong when they said you had plenty of good sense. And now, Dinah, what is the news from other parts of the island?" The old nurse was at the moment standing partly behind Myra, and she shook her head over the girl's shoulder to show that she did not wish to say anything before her, then she replied: "Plenty ob talk, some say one ting some anoder; not worf listen to such foolishness." CHAPTER IX AN ATTACK ON THE CAVE Dinah lay down for a short sleep. It was far too late for Nat to start for Count de Noe's plantation, and when it was broad daylight, he went down to the pool for a bathe. When he returned, Dinah was standing at the entrance. She held up her hand to signal to him to stay below. She came down the steps, and sat down with him on a stone twenty or thirty yards up the stream. "Mam'selle hab gone to sleep again," she said; "now we can talk quiet." "And what is your news, Dinah?" he asked. "Marse Glober, it am jest awful. It seem to Dinah dat all de black folk in dis island am turned into debils--from eberywhar de same story--eberywhar de white massas and de ladies and de childer all killed. Dat not de worst, sah, dey not content wid killing dem, dey put dem to horrible tortures. Me can't tell you all de terrible tings dat I'se heard; me jest tell you one, dat enough for you to guess what de oders are. Dey caught one white man, a carpenter, dey tied 'im between two planks and dey carry 'im to his saw-pit and dey saw 'im asunder. In one place de niggers march to attack town, and what you tink dey take for dere flag? A lilly white baby wid a spear run troo him. As to de ladies, me can no speak of de awful tings me hab heard. You quite right to gib pistol to madame and mam'selle, dey do well shoot demselves before dese yellow and black debils get hold of dem. Me neber tink dat me hab shame for my colour, now I hab shame; if me could lift my hands and ebery mulatto and black man in dis island all fall dead, me lift dem now, and me glad me fall dead wid de rest." "This is awful, indeed, Dinah; as you say the negroes seem to have become fiends. I could understand it in plantations where they are badly treated, but it is certain that this was quite the exception, and that, on the whole, they were comfortable and happy before this trouble began. I know they were on Monsieur Duchesne's estate, and on all those I visited when I was here before. I do not say they might not have preferred to be free." "What good dat do dem, sah? If free, not work; dey worse off dan when slabes. Where dey get close? where dey get food? what dey do when dey get old? Look at Dinah, she allus comfor'ble and happy. She could work now tho' she old, but she hab no work to do 'cept when she like to dust room; she get plenty ob good food, she know well dat howeber old she live, massa and madame make her comfor'ble. Suppose she like de oders, and stop down at de huts, what den? who gib de ole woman food? who gib her close? who gib her wine and medicine? No, sah, dis am bad business all troo--terrible bad for white men, terrible bad for black men, terrible bad for eberyone. "Next you see come de turn of de white man. Dey come out from de towns, plenty guns and powder, dey attack de blacks, dey shoot dem down like dogs, dey hunt dem troo de hills; dey show dem no mercy, and dey don't deserve none, massa. It would hab been better had big wave come swallow dis island up, better for eberyone; white man go to white man's heaben, good black man go to heaben, either de same heaben, or de black man's heaben. Now, suah enough, dere no heaben for dese black men who hab done dese tings, dey all shut out; dey no let dem in 'cause dey hab blood on dere hands, me heard priest say dat St. Peter he sit at de gate. Well, sah, you bery suah dat St. Peter him shake him head when black fellow from dis island come up and ask to go in. All dis dreadful, massa;" and the tears ran plentifully down the old nurse's cheeks. "It won't be as bad as that, Dinah," Nat said soothingly. "There must be a great many who have taken no part in this horrible affair, and who have only risen because they were afraid to hang back." "Don't you whisper word to Mam'selle Myra 'bout dese tings, Marse Glober." "You may be sure that I shall not do so, Dinah; but certainly I shall, whenever I leave her, tell her not to hesitate to use her pistol against herself." "If de negroes find dis cave, you trust to me," the negress said firmly. "I'se heard dat it bery wicked ting to kill oneself. Bery well, sah, me won't let madame and mam'selle do wicked ting. Dinah got long knife hidden, if dey come Dinah kill bofe ob dem, den dey no do wicked deed. As to Dinah, she poor ole negro woman. Better dat St. Peter say to her, 'You no come in, dere blood on hands,' dan dat he should say dat to de two white ladies she hab nursed." Nat's eyes were moist, and his voice shook at this proof of the old woman's devotion, and he said unsteadily: "St. Peter would not blame you, Dinah. He would know why there was blood on your hands, and he would say, 'Come in, you have rendered to your mistresses the last and greatest services possible.'" After breakfast Dinah washed his shirt, his white nankeen trousers, and jacket, and, as he had not a red sash to wind round his waist, he took the ornaments and slings from his sword-belt and put this on. "You pass bery well, sah, for mulatto man; de only ting am de hat. Dat red handkerchief bery well when you pretend to be negro, but not suit mulatto, and Dinah will go see what she find at dose plantation on de hills." "No, Dinah, you must not run risks." "No risk in dat, sah. Dinah known bery well at most of de plantations round. I'se got a name for hab good medicines for febers, and ointments for sores, and women dat hab childer ill bring dem down to me from all parts. Bery simple for me to go round and say dat now de house gone and de ladies and all, me not like to stay down dere and be trouble to my darters. Plenty for 'em to do to keep demselves and der childer. Me going to trabel round de country and nurse de sick and sell my medicines. Suah to meet some woman whose child me hab cured; ask her if she know anyone who hab got straw-hat--dere suah to be straw-hats in planters' houses--me say dat a mulatto hab lost his, and not able to go down to town to buy one, and told me would gib me dollar if I could get him good one. Me try to get someting for sash too." "That would be almost as difficult as the hat, Dinah." Dinah shook her head. "Plenty ob women got red shawl, sah; most all got red handkerchief. Buy one shawl or six handkerchief, bring dem home, cut dem up, and sew dem together; dat make bery good sash. You no trouble, massa; you keep quiet here all day and look abter madame. I'se sure to be back before it time for you to start." Dinah indeed returned just as the sun was sinking. She carried a small bundle in one hand, and a broad-brimmed straw-hat in the other. "Well done, Dinah!" Nat exclaimed as he returned after sitting for a couple of hours on the rocks near the fall, and found her in the cave. "How did you get the hat?" "Jess as I said, sah; me found one woman who allus bery grateful to me-for sabing her chile. I tell her I want straw-hat. She said she could get me one, two, or tree hats in de house ob mulatto oberseer. She 'teal one for me. Most of de men down in de plain, so she take basket and go up to de house garden--ebery one take what dey want now. She get some green 'tuff, as if for her dinner; den she go round by mulatto man's house, she look in at window and see hats; she take one, put 'im in basket and cober 'im ober, den bring um back to me. She had red shawl; she gib it me, but I make her take dollar for it. Me hide de hat under my dress till me get away into de woods again, den me carry um. Now, sah, put um on. Dat suit you bery well, sah; you pass for young mulatto man when I got dis shawl cut up and sewn togeder. You please to know dat madame open her eyes lillie time ago, and know mam'selle and Dinah. Me gib her drink ob pine-apple juice wid water in which me boil poppy seeds; she drink and go off in quiet sleep; when she wake to-morrow I 'spect she able to talk." "I don't like your going, Nat," Myra said when, the shawl having been converted into a sash, he put his pistols into it. "We have heard, you see, that the Bayous were not killed in the first attack, and I do not see that you can learn more." "I should not run the risk, such as it may be, merely to ask that question. But I think that their coachman, Toussaint, must have saved them. I want to see him; possibly he may have made some arrangements for getting them down to the coast, and he might be willing to allow you and your mother to go down with them. Of course she would have to be carried, but that might not add much to the difficulty." Receiving general instructions from Dinah as to the shortest route, he started, without giving time for Myra to remonstrate further. After two hours' walking he approached the plantation of Count Noe. The house was, of course, gone. Seeing a negro girl, he went up to her. "Which is the house of Toussaint?" he asked. She pointed to a path. "It am de first house you come to," she said; "he used to live at de stables, but now he hab de house ob one of de oberseers who was killed because he did not join us." On reaching the house indicated he looked in at the window, and saw the person he was looking for sitting at a table reading. He was now a man of forty-eight years old, tall in stature, with a face unusually intelligent for one of his race. His manners were quiet and simple, and there was a certain dignity in his bearing that bespoke a feeling that he was superior to the race to which he belonged and the position he occupied. Nat went round to the door and knocked. Toussaint opened it. "Have you a letter for me?" he asked quietly, supposing that his visitor had come with a message to him from one of the leaders of the rebellion. Nat entered and closed the door behind him. "Then you do not remember me, Toussaint?" The negro recognized the voice, and the doubtful accent with which his visitor spoke French. "You are the young English officer," he exclaimed, "though I should not have known you but for the voice. I heard that you were at Monsieur Duchesne's, and it was believed that you had fled to the woods with his wife and daughter. I am glad that they escaped." "I have come from them, Toussaint--at least from the daughter, for the mother has had an attack of fever. She heard that the family here had also escaped, and she said at once that she felt sure you had aided them." "I did so," the negro said quietly; "they were the family I served, and it was my duty to save them; moreover, they had always been kind to me. They are safe--I saw them down to the coast last night. I risked my life, for although the slaves round here respect me and look upon me as their leader, even that would not have saved me had they suspected that I had saved white people from death." "But you are not with them, Toussaint, surely?" The negro drew himself up. "I am with my countrymen," he said; "I have always felt their position greatly. Why should we be treated as cattle because we differ in colour from others? I did my duty to my employers, and now that that is done I am free, and to-morrow I shall join the bands under François and Biassou. I regret most deeply that my people should have disgraced their cause by murders. Of the two thousand whites who have fallen fully one half are women and children, therefore there could have been but one thousand men who, if they had been allowed to go free down to the town, could have fought against us; and what are a thousand men, when we are half a million? It has been a mistake that may well ruin our cause; among the whites everywhere it will confirm their opinion of our race that we are but savages, brutal and bloodthirsty, when we have the opportunity. In France it will excite those against us who were before our friends, and French troops will pour into the islands, whereas, had the revolution been a peaceful one, it would have been approved by the friends of liberty there. It is terrible, nevertheless it makes it all the more necessary that those who have some influence should use it for good. Now that the first fury has passed, better thoughts may prevail, and we may conduct the war without such horrors; but even of that I have no great hope. We may be sure that the whites will take a terrible vengeance, the blacks will retaliate; it will be blood for blood on both sides. However, in a case like this the lives of individuals are as nothing, the cause is everything. I have myself no animosity against the whites, but many of my countrymen have just cause for hatred against them, and were any to try to interfere to prevent them from taking the vengeance they consider their right, it would cause dissension and so prejudice our chances of success. You can understand, then, that I shall hold myself aloof altogether from any interference. I am sorry for the ladies, but now that I have done my duty to my late employers, I have a paramount duty to discharge to my countrymen, and decline to interfere in any way." "Then all I can say is," Nat said sternly, "that I trust that some day, when you are in the power of your enemies, there will be none to give you the aid you now deny to women in distress." So saying, he turned and went out through the door, and before morning broke arrived again at the cave. Not wishing to disturb the others, he lay down outside until the sun was up, then he went along the stream for some distance and bathed. As he returned, Myra was standing on the ledge outside the entrance. "Welcome back!" she called out. "What news have you brought?" "Good news as far as your friends are concerned. Toussaint has got them down to the coast, and sent them to Cape François in a boat." "That is good news indeed," she cried. "Oh, I am glad! Now, what is the bad news?" "The only bad news is that the negro declined to help you in the same way. He is starting this morning to join some bands of slaves up in the hills." "That is hardly bad news," she said, "for I never supposed that he would help us. There was no reason why he should run any risks for our sake." "I hoped that he would have done so, Myra; but at the same time, as he evidently regards the success of the blacks as certain, and expects to become one of their leaders, one can understand that he does not care to run any risk of compromising himself." "Mamma is better this morning," Myra said; "she has asked after you, and remembers what happened before her fever began." "That is good indeed. As soon as she gets strong enough to travel we will begin to think how we can best make our way down to the town." Four days later, Dinah, on her return from a visit to the plantations, said that there had just been some fighting between the whites coming out from Cape François and the slaves. They said that a ship had arrived with some French troops, and that all the white men in the town were coming out, and that they were killing every negro they found. The women and children from the plantations in the plains were all flying into the woods. "Then it strikes me, Dinah, that our position here is a very dangerous one. You may be sure that the slaves will not be able to stand against the whites and the soldiers, and that numbers of them will go into hiding, and it is very likely that some who know the secret of this place will come here." "Yes, sah, I'se not thought ob dat; but, sure enough, it am bery likely dat some ob dem may do so. What you tink had best be done? If de slabes all running into de wood de danger of passing troo would be much greater dan it hab been. And eben if madame could walk, it would be bery great risk to go down--great risk to 'top here too. What you tink?" "I don't know what to think, Dinah; there is one thing, it is not likely that many of them would come here." "No, sah; dose who know about de cave would know dat not more dan eight or ten could hide here--no use to bring a lot ob people wid dem." "That is what I think, Dinah; they will keep the secret to themselves. Now against eight or ten of them, I am sure that I could hold this place, but some of them, when they found they could not get in, would go back again and might lead a strong party here, or might keep watch higher up, and starve us out. And even if the whites beat them out of all the plantations, they would not know where to look for us, and would have too much on their hands to scatter all over the hills. If we are to join them it must be by going down." "Dinah might go and tell dem, sah." Nat shook his head. "I am afraid, Dinah, that their passions will be so much aroused at the wholesale murder of the whites that they will shoot every black they come across, man or woman, and you would be shot long before you could get close enough to explain why you had come. No, I think the only thing to be done, as far as I can see, is that you should go down from time to time to let us know how things are going. I do not think that the whites are likely to get very far along the road. You may be sure that when the troops started from the town news was sent at once to the leaders, and it is likely that they will move a great number of men down to oppose them, and will likely enough drive them back. However, the great thing for us is to know where they are and what they are doing. It is likely that now the whites have advanced there will no longer be any watch kept to prevent people, in hiding like ourselves, from going down to the town; if you find out that that is so, we will put madame on her barrow again, and carry her down. Of course we should have to chance being met when going through the forest, but we must risk that." "Yes, I tink dat de only plan, sah." Accordingly, Dinah started again the next morning. Nat felt very anxious, and took up his place near the entrance to the cave. Myra was busy seeing to the cooking and in attending upon her mother. About four o'clock he thought he heard voices, and, crawling cautiously to the mouth of the cave, he looked out through the bushes. Eight men were coming along; six of them were negroes, and the other two were the mulatto overseers whose conversation he had overheard. He called softly to Myra: "Don't be alarmed, Myra, we are going to have a fight, but I have no fear whatever of their taking us. Only one can attack at once, and he can only come slowly. There are eight of them; you may as well bring me the two other pistols. I would not take them if I thought there was the smallest chance of these fellows getting up here. Go and tell your mother not to be frightened, and then do you come and sit down behind me. I will hand the pistols to you to load. There are only eight of these fellows, and if there were eighty, we could hold the cave; even if they got up to the platform they could only enter, stooping, one at a time. Go at once to your mother, they will be here directly." "How much farther is this place?" the mulatto Christophe asked. "Right dar behind dat bush," the negro said; "you go up by dem steps." "It is a splendid hiding-place, Paul." "Yes. No one who did not know of it would have a chance of finding it. There is someone there now; don't you see a light smoke rising behind the bush?" "So there is! I should not be surprised if the woman Duchesne and her daughter are there. It is certain that someone must have helped them off, or we should have found them long ago." "Well, it will be a rare piece of luck if they are there." The negroes had already noticed the smoke, and were talking excitedly together. It had not occurred to them that any fugitives could have discovered the place, and they were only concerned at the thought that the cave might be already fully occupied. "Hullo, dar!" one of them shouted. "How many ob you up dar?" No answer was returned. He shouted again, but there was still silence. "I s'pect dar only one man," he said to his comrades. "Most likely him gone out to look for food. Bery foolish leab fire burning;" and he at once proceeded to climb the steps, followed by two others. Nat grasped the handle of his pistol. He determined that in the first place he would make sure of the two mulattoes. They were by far the most dangerous of his foes, and if they escaped they would, he had no doubt, keep watch higher up, capture Dinah on her return, and cut off all retreat from the cave. It was time to act at once, and, taking a steady aim at Paul, he fired. With a shriek the mulatto fell backwards. Before the others could recover from their surprise Nat fired again, and Christophe fell forward on his face in the water. He passed the pistol back to Myra, and grasped another. He had expected that the negroes would at once fly, and two of them had turned to do so, when the highest climber shouted down: "Come on, all ob you! what you want run away for? Perhaps only one man here, he want to keep de cabe all to himself; we soon settle with him. Dis cabe de only safe place." Nat could easily have shot the man, but he determined to direct his fire against those below. If he shot those climbing the others would escape, and it was of the greatest importance that no one should do so. The negroes had snatched the pistols from the belts of the fallen mulattoes, and several shots were fired at the bush. Nat drew back for a moment as the negroes raised their arms, and then discharged the two barrels of his pistol with as deadly an effect as before, and seized the third weapon. The remaining negro below dropped behind a fallen rock. At the same moment the man who was evidently the leader of them sprang on to the ledge. Nat's pistol was ready, and as the negro bounded forward he fired. The ball struck him in the chest, and he fell like a log over the precipice. In his fall he struck one of his comrades, and carried him down on to the rocks below. The other seemed paralysed with fear, and uttered a shriek for mercy as Nat, who from his position could not see him, sprang to his feet; but the tales that he had heard from Dinah of the atrocities perpetrated had steeled his heart to all thoughts of mercy, and taking a deliberate aim Nat shot him through the head. He had still a pistol left charged. Myra had not yet loaded the first he had handed to her, for it was but some twenty seconds from the time that the first shot had been fired. Nat caught up the sword, and at once made his way down the steps. He ran towards the rock behind which the last of the negroes had thrown himself. As he did so the man leapt to his feet, and the two pistols cracked at the same moment. Nat felt a sharp pain in his side. His own shot had missed, and a moment later the negro was rushing at him with uplifted knife. [Illustration: "HE FELL LIKE A LOG OVER THE PRECIPICE."] For the moment Nat forgot that he had another shot left, and, dropping the pistol, shifted his sword to the right hand, and before the negro's knife could fall he ran him through the body. There was now but one foe left. He lay stunned below his fallen comrade, and Nat saw from the manner in which one of his legs was doubled under him that it was broken. He could do no harm, but he would assuredly die if left there alone. Nat pressed his lips together, and having picked up his pistol, he put it close to the man's head and fired. Looking up, he saw Myra run out with a pistol in her hand. "It is all right, Myra. Thank God none of them have got away." "Are you hurt?" she asked, breathlessly. "I will come up," he said; "I am hit in the side, but I don't think that it is at all serious." He found, however, as he ascended the steps, that it gave him acute pain every time he moved. The girl was white and trembling when he joined her. "Don't be frightened, Myra," he said, "I am sure that it is nothing serious. It struck a rib and glanced off, I think, and at the worst it has only broken the bone. You go in and attend to your mother." "I shall not do anything of the sort," she said. "You come in, and I will look at it; it must want bandaging, anyhow." Nat felt that this was true, and, following her into the cave, he let her take off his jacket. The wound was a few inches below the arm. "It is lucky that it was not a little more to the right," he said; "it would have done for me. Don't look so white, Myra, a miss is as good as a mile. It is as I thought, is it not?--just a glancing wound." "Yes," the girl said. He felt along the rib. "Yes," he said, "there is no doubt that it is broken; I can feel the ends grate, and it hurts me every time I breathe. This is where it is, just where the cut begins; the wound itself is nothing." "What shall I do?" she asked quietly. "Tear a strip or two off the bottom of your petticoat, then sew the ends together to make a long bandage, and roll a little piece, so as to make a wad about an inch wide. Is the wound bleeding?" "Yes, very much." "Fold a piece four or five thick, and lay over that the other wad so as to go up and down across the rib. Now, if you will give me a little warm water and a piece of rag, I will bathe the wound while you are making the bandage." "I will bathe it," the girl said. "I am sure it would hurt you to get your hand round." In ten minutes the operation was completed. "I am so sorry that I cannot help," Madame Duchesne murmured, as Myra sat down to sew the strips together. "There is nothing that you could do, thank you," Nat said cheerfully. "Myra is getting on capitally. I shall soon be all right again." When everything was done, he said, "You are a trump, Myra, you have done it first-rate." Then the girl, who had gone on as quietly as if she had been accustomed to such work all her life, broke down, and, bursting into a fit of crying, threw herself down by the side of her mother. Nat would have attempted to soothe her, but her mother said, "Leave her to me, she will be all the better for a good cry." Nat went down again to the stream, picked up the four pistols the Creoles had carried and unwound their sashes, thinking that these would be better than the make-shift that he wore. As he did so two small bags dropped out. He opened them; both contained jewels, some of which he had seen Madame Duchesne wearing. "That is a bit of luck," he said to himself. "No doubt directly they entered the house these scoundrels made one of the women show them where madame's jewel-case was, and divided the contents between them. When Dinah comes we must get these bodies down the stream. I could do it myself were it not for this rib, but it would not be safe to try experiments. What a plucky girl Myra is! Most girls would have been ready to faint at the sight of blood. I will wait a few minutes before I go up so as to give her time to pull herself together." In ten minutes he went up again. "Madame," he said, "I have something that I am sure you will be very glad to get back again. I took off the sashes of those rascally mulattoes, and these two bags fell out of them. What do you think they contain? Some of your jewels." Madame Duchesne and Myra both uttered exclamations of pleasure. "They are family jewels," Myra said, "and my father and mother both prize them very much. How strange they should have been on these men!" "The two mulattoes were two of your overseers, and no doubt ran straight up and seized them directly they entered the house." She saw that her mother wished to speak, and leaned down over her, for Madame Duchesne could not as yet raise her voice above a whisper. "Turn them out," she said, "and see how many are missing." Although Nat had seen Madame Duchesne in full evening dress two or three times when parties of friends had assembled at the house, and had noticed the beauty of her jewels, he was surprised at the number of bracelets, necklaces, brooches, and rings that poured out from the bags. Some of the larger articles, which he supposed were ornaments for the hair, were bent and crumpled up so as to take up as little space as possible. Myra held them up one by one before her mother's eyes. "They are all there, every one of them," the latter whispered. "Your father will be pleased." "The greater part of these," Myra said to Nat, "were brought over when the Baron Duchesne, our ancestor, came over here first, but a great many have been bought since. I have heard mamma say that each successor of the name and estate has made it a point of honour to add to the collection, of which they were very proud, as it was certainly the finest in the island; and besides, it was thought that if at any time Hayti should be captured, either by the Spanish or your people, or if there should be trouble with the blacks, it would be a great thing to have valuables that could be so easily hidden or carried away." "Then they have thought all along that there might be a rising here some day?" "Yes. I have heard my father say that when he was a boy he has heard his grandfather talk the matter over with others, and they thought that the number of slaves in the island was so great that possibly there might some day be a revolt. They all agreed that it would be put down, but they believed that the negroes might do terrible damage before enough troops could be brought from France to suppress it." "They thought rightly," Nat said, "though it has been a long time coming; and the worst of it is that even if it is put down it may break out again at any time. It is hardly reasonable that, when they are at least ten to one against the whites and mulattoes together, men should submit to be kept in slavery." "But they were very well off," Myra said. "I am sure they were much better off than the poorer whites." "From what I have seen of them I think they were," Nat replied, "but you see people do not know when they are well off. I have no doubt that if the last white man left the island, and slavery were abolished for ever, the negroes would be very much worse off than they were before, and I should think they would most likely go back to the same idle, savage sort of life that they live in Africa. Still, of course, at present they have no idea of that. They think they will be no longer obliged to work, and suppose that somehow they will be fed and clothed and have everything they want without any trouble to themselves. You see it is just the same thing that is going on in France." "Well, now, what are you going to do next, Nat?" "I shall load the pistols. I have got four more now. Then I shall take my place at the mouth of the cave again. I hope that when Dinah comes she will bring us news that will enable us to move away. The fact that this party was coming here for refuge shows that the blacks are growing alarmed, and perhaps have already suffered a defeat, in which case the way will be clear for us. If not, I must get her to help me clear the place down below, it will not be difficult. What have you got on the fire?" "There is a fowl that I have been stewing down to make the broth for mother. I have another cut up ready for grilling." Two hours later Nat, to his surprise, saw Dinah hurrying down the ravine, for he had not expected her until evening. He stood up at once. She paused when she caught sight of the bodies lying below the cave. "It is all right, Dinah," he shouted. "We have had a bit of a fight, but it only lasted for a minute or two, and except that I got a graze from a pistol-ball, we are unhurt." "De Lord be blest, sah!" she said as she came up. "Eight ob dem, and you kill dem all, sah?" "Yes; one could hardly miss them at that distance. I am glad to say that none of them got away. You are back earlier than I expected." "Yes, sah; me found out all de news in good time, and den, as eberyone say hurricane come on, I hurry all de way to get here before he come." "Well, come up, Dinah. Madame is going on very well. You know those two mulattoes?" "Me know dem, sah; dey bery bad men, dey lead de black fellows to de attack." "Well, it is well that they came up here, for they had, hidden in their sashes, all madame's jewels." "Dat am good news, sah," the old woman said as she joined him, "dat powerful good news. Madame didn't say anyting about jewels, but Dinah tought of dem, and what a terrible ting it would be if she had lost dem! Dat good affair." "So you think that we are going to have a storm, Dinah?" "Sartin suah, sah; bery hot las' night, bery hot dis morning, and jest as me got to top of hill me saw de clouds coming up bery fast." "I didn't notice the heat particularly. Of course it is very shady in this deep gorge, and one does not see much of the sky." "Dis bery good place, sah--better dan house, much better dan forest. Me was despate frighted dat storm would come before me got here." "I was wanting you to help me put the bodies into the stream, Dinah." "No need for dat, sah; when storm come wash dem all down--no fear ob dat." She went into the cave, and Nat followed her. "Me hab good news for you, ma'am. De whites come out strong from de town wid regiment of troops and de sailors from English ship; de blacks hab a fight down in de plain, but dey beat dem easy. Den yesterday de bands of François come down from de mountains, get to our plantation in de evening; dey bery strong, dey say dar am ten thousand ob dem. Dey s'pect de whites to come and attack to-morrow. To-day dey clearing out all de plantations on de plain. De black fellows say dey cut dem all to pieces." "There is no fear of that," Nat broke in. "So you think that they will fight in the morning?" "No, sah, me no tink dat; me suah dat as soon as de whites see de hurricane coming dey march back fast to de town; no can stand hurricane widout shelter. You had better light de lantern, it am getting as dark as night." Nat went to the entrance. Looking up, he saw a canopy of black cloud passing overhead with extraordinary rapidity. Almost instantaneously there came a flash of lightning, nearly blinding him, accompanied by a tremendous clap of thunder. He turned hastily back into the cave. "It is lucky that you arrived in time, Dinah; if you had been ten minutes longer you would have been caught." He stopped speaking, for his voice was drowned in a tremendous roar. He was about to go to the mouth of the cave again, but Dinah caught hold of his jacket. "No, sah, you mustn't go; if you show your head out beyond de cabe, de wind catch you and whirl you away like leaf, nobody neber see you no more. We safe and comfor'ble in here. We just got to wait till it all over. Dat wind strong enough to trow down de strongest trees, blow down all de huts, take de roof off de strongest house. We not often hab hurricanes in dis island, but when dey come, dey come bery bad. Dose ten tousand black fellows down at de plantation dey hab a bery bad time ob it to-night, dey wish demselves dead afore morning." "It is very bad for the women and children too, Dinah." "Yes, sah, me hab not forgotten dat; but most ob dem will hab gone, dey run away when dey hear dat de whites coming out of town. Dey know bery well dat de whites hab good cause to be bery angry, and dat dey shoot eberyone dey catch." "But they will be just as badly off in the woods as they would be in their huts, Dinah. Have your daughter and her children got away?" "No, sah, dey wur going jest as I started, but I told dem dat hurricane coming, and dat dey better stay in de clearing; and dey agreed to hide up in de little stone hut at end of garden where dey keep de tools and oder tings. De roof blow off, no doubt, but de walls am low and strong. Dey hab bad time dere, but dey safe." With Dinah's assistance, Nat fixed a blanket at the point where the narrow entrance widened out, to keep out the swirls of wind which from time to time rushed in, propping it in its place by the hand-barrow on which Madame Duchesne had been brought up. Myra had finished cooking the fowls just as her nurse arrived, and they sat down to their meal heedless of the terrific tempest that was raging outside. CHAPTER X AFLOAT AGAIN "There will be no occasion to keep watch to-night, Dinah." "Not in de least, sah; de water six feet deep, no one could get in." As talking was out of the question, the party lay down to sleep soon after they had finished their meal. It was some time, however, before Nat closed his eyes. It seemed to him that as soon as the storm was over, and the water low enough for them to pass up the ravine, no time should be lost in attempting to make their way down into the town. The troops would no doubt set out again as soon as possible, and a battle might be fought before nightfall. That the negroes would be beaten he had no doubt, and in that case other parties of fugitives might make for the cave. It was likely that, until the battle was fought, there would be but few negroes in the forest; those who had remained there during the storm would go down into the full glare of the sun to dry and warm themselves. Doubtless, too, François, the negro leader, would have sent messengers off as soon as he arrived, ordering all able-bodied men in the plantations for miles round to come in to take part in the battle, and their chances of meeting with any foes as they descended to the plain would be slight. It would undoubtedly be a serious matter to carry Madame Duchesne for so long a distance; for they had ever since leaving the plantation been going farther away from the town, and he calculated that it must be at least twenty-five miles distant. He did not think that it would be possible to do the journey in a day; but once down on the plains they might find some building intact, in which they could obtain shelter for the night. At last he fell off to sleep. When he awoke the din outside had ceased, and the silence seemed almost oppressive. He got up, pushed aside the blanket, and looked out. The stars were shining, and the wind had entirely lulled. The bottom of the ravine was still full of water, but he felt sure that this would speedily drop; for the depression above the gorge was not an extensive one, and the water that fell there would speedily find its way down. He lit a fresh candle and placed it in the lantern, as the last, which had been renewed by Dinah early in the night, was burning low. He pulled down the blanket, for although the air was fresh and cool at the entrance, the cave was oppressively warm. It was two hours before day began to break; by this time the torrent had subsided and the stream ran in its former course, and it was clear that in another hour it would be possible to make their way along by the side. As he was turning to go in, Dinah joined him. "I tink, Marse Glober, de sooner we go de better." "That is just what I have been thinking. There are not likely to be many of the slaves about in the wood to-day; you see a number of trees have blown down from above, and just below, the ravine is almost choked with them." "No, sah, many will be killed in the forest, and de rest frighted 'most out of der lives. If de whites come out and fight to-day, and de black fellows are beaten, all dose who know of dis place suah to come to hide here." "That was just my idea." "How your side, sah?" "It seems rather stiff and sore, Dinah. However, that can't be helped. That sash you made me will come in very handy for carrying madame, and we sha'n't have the weight of the other things we brought up. I am afraid it will be impossible to do the journey in one day, but I dare say we shall light upon a shelter down on the plains." "Yes, sah. Me put de pot on de fire at once, and as soon as we hab breakfast we make a start; but before we go me must stain you all again--got glenty ob berries left." Madame Duchesne had already been consulted. She would much rather have remained until strong enough to walk, but on her old nurse's showing her that it would be at least a fortnight before she could walk even a mile, and pointing out the danger there was in delay, she agreed to start whenever they thought fit. The jewels were placed in Dinah's capacious pocket, as, if they fell in with any strong party of negroes, she would be less likely to be searched than the others. In an hour all the preparations were completed; one pistol was given to Madame Duchesne and another to her daughter. Dinah took charge of a brace, and Nat wore the other two brace in his sash. He still wore his uniform under his nankeen suit, and his naval cap was in the bundle that formed Madame Duchesne's pillow. She lay down on the hand-barrow, all the blankets being placed under her, with the exception of one which was thrown over her, and she was let down the precipice in the same way as she had been brought up. Dinah this time followed Nat's example, and used one of the mulattoes' sashes as a yoke to take the weight off her arms. Madame Duchesne was placed as far forward on the barrow as possible, so as to divide the weight more equally between her bearers. On raising her, Nat found to his satisfaction that it hurt him but little. In the week that had elapsed since she was seized with the fever, Madame Duchesne had lost a good deal of weight, the store of provisions had, too, greatly diminished, and the sash took so much of the weight off his arms, that as he walked in a perfectly erect position there was little strain thrown upon the broken bone. It was only when he came to a rough place and had to step very carefully that he really felt his wounds. Myra looked anxiously at him from time to time. "I am getting on capitally," he said. "Do not worry about me; at present I scarcely feel that unfortunate rib." "Mind, if you do feel it, Nat, you must give up. Dinah will take your place, and I will take hers. I am sure that I can carry that end very well for a time." "I will let you know when I want a change," Nat said. "Now, you go on ahead, and as soon as we get out of this hollow use your eyes sharply." They saw no one going up the valley or crossing the open ground. When, however, they entered the forest on the other slope, they saw for the first time how terrible had been the force of the hurricane. In some places over acres of ground every tree had fallen, in others the taller trees only had been levelled or snapped off, while others again had boughs wrenched off, and the ground was thickly strewn with fallen branches. All this added greatly to the fatigue of travelling. Detours had to be constantly made, and the journey down took them double the time that had been occupied in the ascent. When approaching the road they had to cross, they sat down and rested for half an hour. "You are looking very white, Nat," Myra said; "I am afraid that your side is hurting you terribly." "It certainly hurts a bit, Myra, but it is of no consequence. It was going on very well until I stumbled over a fallen branch that gave it rather a twist." "You let me bandage 'im again, Marse Glober. We will go off and set dis matter right." When a short distance away Nat stripped to the waist. Myra had done her best, but the old nurse possessed considerable skill in such matters, and strength enough to draw the bandage much tighter than she had done. "Better make it a bit longer," she said, and taking a pair of scissors from her pocket cut off a strip some fifteen inches wide from her ample petticoat, and wound this tightly round the other bandage. "Dere, sah, dat make you 'tiff and comf'able." "It does make me stiff," Nat said with a smile; "I almost feel as if I had got a band of iron round me. Thank you; I shall do very well now." The old nurse dressed him carefully again, and they rejoined the others. "That is ever so much better," Nat said to Myra; "the bandage had shifted a little, and Dinah has put it on fresh again, and added a strip of her own petticoat." The journey was then resumed, and, with an occasional halt, continued until late in the afternoon, by which time they were well down on the plain. During the latter part of the day they had heard at first scattered shots and then a roar of musketry about a couple of miles on their right. It continued for half an hour, and then the heavy firing ceased; but musket shots could be heard occasionally, and higher up on the hill than before. "The negroes have been beaten," Nat said, "and our men are pursuing them. Perhaps they will make another stand at the point where the road runs between two steep banks." This indeed seemed to be the case, for half an hour later a heavy fire broke out again. It was but for a short time--in ten minutes it died away, and no further sound was heard. Darkness was now falling, and they presently arrived at some buildings that had been left standing. They were storehouses, and had not been fired at the time when the planter's house was burned, but had probably been used by the negroes as a barrack, until the advance of the troops on the previous day had compelled them to take a hasty flight. The litter was now laid on the ground. Madame Duchesne had dozed off many times during the day, and was now wide awake. "Are you going to light a fire, Dinah?" "No, madame; Marse Glober and me tink it too dangerous. Not likely any ob dese black fellows 'bout, but dere might be some hiding, best to be careful. We hab a cold chicken to eat, and dere is some chicken jelly in de lillie pot for you, and we hab bread, so no need for fire to cook, and sartin no need for him afterward, we all sleep first-rate. Madame not heaby, but road bery rough, and little weight tell up by end ob de day. Dinah getting ole woman, Marse Glober got rib broken--both bery glad when journey done. Mamzelle she tired too; twelve mile ober rough ground a long journey for her." "My feet ache a little," Myra said, "but otherwise I do not feel tired. I felt quite ashamed of myself walking along all day carrying nothing, instead of taking turns with you." There was but little talking as they ate their meal in the darkness. Neither Nat nor the old nurse had said a word as to their feelings as they walked, but both felt completely exhausted, and it was not many minutes after they had finished their supper before they were sound asleep. At daybreak they were on their feet again, feeling better after the long night's rest, and happy at the thought that this day's walk would take them to home and safety. Nat now threw off his disguise, placed his cap upon his head, and appeared as a British officer, though certainly one of considerably darker complexion than was common; but he thought there was less danger now from slaves than from parties of maddened whites, who had been out to their former homes and might shoot any negroes they came upon without waiting to ask questions. Myra also discarded the negro gown. "I think that I looked more respectable in that," she said with a laugh, "than in this draggled white frock." "It has not been improved, certainly, by its week's wear, Myra; but just at the present moment no one will be thinking of dresses. Now let us be off. We shall be on the road soon, and in an hour or two will be in the town." [Illustration: THE JOURNEY TO THE COAST.] It seemed easy work after the toil of the previous day. They bore to the right until they fell into the main road, both because it would be safer, and because Nat hoped that he might meet someone who could inform Monsieur Duchesne--who he had no doubt would have gone out with the column--that his wife and daughter were in safety, and that he would find them at his house in the town. They had, indeed, gone but a short distance along the road when four men on horseback galloped up. They drew rein suddenly as they met the little party, astonished to see, as they thought, a mulatto girl in front, a negro woman carrying a litter on which was another mulatto woman, and which was carried behind by a young mulatto in the uniform of a British naval officer. Had they met them out in the country they would probably not have troubled to ask questions, but, travelling as they were along the road towards the town, and from the direction where the column had been fighting, it was evident that there must be some mystery about it. "Who are you?" one of them asked Nat in a rough tone. "I am an officer of his Britannic Majesty's frigate _Orpheus_, at present, I believe, in the port; this lady on the stretcher is Madame Duchesne; this young lady is her daughter, Mademoiselle Myra Duchesne; this negress, the faithful nurse of the two ladies, has saved their lives at the risk of her own." One of the horsemen leapt from his saddle. "Pardon me for not recognizing you, mademoiselle," he said to Myra, lifting his straw-hat; "but the change that you have made in your complexion must be my excuse for my not having done so. I trust that madame, your mother, is not seriously ill." "She has been very ill, Monsieur Ponson," she replied. "She has just recovered from an attack of fever, but is very weak indeed." "I saw your father three days ago. He had then just received your message saying that you were in safe hiding. He was, of course, in a state of the greatest delight. He went out with the troops yesterday." "If you see him, sir, will you be kind enough to tell him that you have met us, and that he will find us at his house in town?" "I will certainly find him out as soon as I reach the troops. Is there anything else that I can do?" "Nothing, thank you, sir. Is there, Nat?" "No, unless one of the gentlemen would ride back with us, so as to prevent us from being stopped by every party we meet and having to explain who we are." "I will do so, sir," the youngest of the horsemen said. "I dare say I shall be able to join our friends at the front before there is any more fighting, for the messenger who came in yesterday evening brought the news that the blacks had been so completely defeated, that it was thought likely they would make straight off into the mountains in the interior." "Thank you very much, sir; it will be a great comfort to us to go straight on. We are anxious to get Madame Duchesne into shelter before the sun gets to its full power. My name is Glover. May I ask yours?" "It is Laurent." The other three horsemen, after raising their hats in salute, had now ridden on. "How did you get on through the hurricane, Monsieur Glover?" "We scarce felt it. We were in a cave with a very small entrance, and after the first outburst slept through it in comfort." "It is more than any of us did in the town," the other said with a laugh. "It was tremendous. I should say that half the houses were unroofed, and in the poor quarters many of the huts were blown down, and upwards of twenty negroes were killed." "Do you think, Monsieur Laurent," Myra said, moving across to him, "that we are likely to meet any people on foot whom we could hire?" "No, I hardly think so, mademoiselle. All the gentlemen in the town who could get away rode out with the troops, and the rest of the whites are patrolling the streets armed, lest the negroes employed in the work of the port should rise during the absence of the troops. Why do you ask, mademoiselle?" "Because Monsieur Glover had a rib broken by a pistol-ball the day before yesterday, and I am sure it hurts him very much to carry my mother." The young man leapt from his horse. "Monsieur," he exclaimed, "pray take my horse. I will assist in carrying Madame Duchesne." "I do not like"--Nat began, but his remonstrance was unheeded. "But I insist, monsieur. Please take the reins. You can walk by the side of the horse or mount him, whichever you think will be the more easy for you." So saying, he gently possessed himself of the handles of the litter, placed the sash over his shoulders, and started. It was indeed an immense relief to Nat. The rough work of the preceding day had caused the ends of the bone to grate, and had set up a great deal of inflammation. He had been suffering acutely since he started, in spite of the support of the bandage, and he had more than once thought that he would be obliged to ask Myra to take his place. He did not attempt to mount in the young Frenchman's saddle, for he thought that the motion of the horse would be worse for him than walking; he therefore took the reins in his hand, and walked at the horse's head behind the litter. The pain was less now that he was relieved of the load, but he still suffered a great deal, and he kept in the rear behind the others, while Myra chatted with Monsieur Laurent, learning from him what had happened in the town, and giving him a sketch of their adventures. As they passed the house of Madame Duchesne's sister, the invalid said that she would be taken in there, as she had heard from Monsieur Laurent that their own house was partially unroofed. Myra ran in to see her aunt, who came out with her at once. "Ah, my dear sister," she cried, "how we have suffered! We had no hope that you had escaped until your husband brought us the joyful news three days ago that you were still in safety. Come in, come in! I am more glad than ever that our house escaped without much damage from the storm." Although the house was intact, the garden was a wreck. The drive up to the house was blocked by fallen trees, most of the plants seemed to have been torn up by the roots and blown away, the lawn was strewn with huge branches. Two of the house servants had now come out and relieved those carrying the litter. "Ah, Monsieur Glover," continued Madame Duchesne's sister, "once again you have saved my niece; my sister also this time! Of course you will come in too." "Thanks, madame, but if you will allow me I will go straight on board my ship. I am wounded, though in no way seriously. Still, I shall require some medical care, for I have a rib broken, and the journey down has not improved it." "In that case I will not press you, monsieur. Dr. Lepel has gone out with the column, and may not be back for some days." "Good-bye, Madame Duchesne!" Nat said, shaking the thin hand she held out to him. "I will come and see you soon, and hope to find you up by that time. Now that your anxiety is at an end you ought to gain strength rapidly." "May Heaven bless you," she said, "for your goodness to us!" "That is all right," he said cheerfully. "You see, I was saving my own life as well as yours; and it is to you, Dinah," he said, turning and shaking her hand, "it is to you that we really all owe our lives. First you warned us in time, then you took us to a place of safety, and have since got us food and news, and risked your own life in doing so. "Good-bye, Myra; I hope that when I see you again you will have got that dye off your face, and that you will be none the worse for what you have gone through." The girl's lip quivered. "Good-bye, Nat. I do so hope your wound will soon heal." "You are fortunate, indeed, in having escaped," Monsieur Laurent said as they turned away. "From all we hear, I fear that very few of the whites, except in plantations quite near the towns, have escaped. It is strange that the house servants, who in most cases have been all their lives with their masters and mistresses, and who have almost always been treated as kindly as if they were members of the family, should not have warned them of what was coming." "I should think that very few of them knew," Nat replied. "They were known to be attached to their masters and mistresses, and would hardly have been trusted by the others. I cannot think so badly of human nature as to believe that a people who have been so long in close connection with their masters should, in almost every case, have kept silent when they knew that there was a plot to massacre them." "Well, I will say good-morning," Monsieur Laurent said. "I want to be back with the troops. I was detained yesterday, to my great disgust, to see to the getting-off of a freight, and I should not like to miss another chance of paying some of the scoundrels off." Nat made his way slowly and carefully--for the slightest movement gave him great pain--to the wharf. One of the frigate's boats was ashore. The coxswain looked at him with surprise as he went down the steps to it. "Well, I'm jiggered," the man muttered, "if it ain't Mr. Glover!" Then he said aloud: "Glad to see you back, sir. The ship's crew were all glad when they heard the other day that the news had come as how you were safe, for we had all been afraid you had been murdered by them niggers. You are looking mighty queer, sir, if I may say so." "My face is stained to make me look like a mulatto. Whom are you waiting for?" "For Mr. Normandy." "Well, how long do you expect he will be?" "I can't say, sir. It is about a quarter of an hour since he landed, and he said he would be back in half an hour; but officers are generally longer than they expect." "Well it won't take you above ten minutes to row off to the ship and back. I will take the blame if he comes down before that. I have been wounded, not badly, but it is very painful. I want to get it properly dressed." "All right, sir, we will get you on board in no time." "Give me your arm. I must get in carefully." The men stretched to their oars, and in five minutes Nat was alongside the _Orpheus_. He had heard, as he expected, that Dr. Bemish had gone with the party that had been landed, but his assistant was on board. The first lieutenant was on deck. He saw by Nat's walk as he went up to report his return that something was the matter. "Are you ill or wounded, Mr Glover?" "I am wounded, sir. I had a rib broken by a pistol-ball, and I have had a long journey, which has inflamed it a good deal." "Go down at once and have it seen to; you can tell me your story afterwards. Have the ladies who were with you got safely down also?" "Yes, sir." The lieutenant nodded, and Nat then went below and placed himself in the hands of the assistant surgeon. "My word, Glover, you have got your wound into a state!" the latter said after he had examined him. "What on earth have you been doing to it? It seems to have been a pretty clean break at first, and it wouldn't have bothered you above three weeks or so, but the ends have evidently been sawing away into the flesh. Why, man alive, what have you been doing?" "I have been helping to carry a sick woman down from the hills," Nat said quietly. "If it had been level ground it would not have hurt so much, but on rough ground strewn with branches one could not avoid stumbling occasionally, and although it had been bandaged before I started the wad slipped and the thing got loose, and after that it was like walking with a red-hot needle sticking into me." "So I should say. Well, I will put you into a berth in the sick-bay at once. Fortunately we have some ice on board and I will put some of it on the wound and try to get the inflammation down." In a short time he returned with a basin of ice and a jugful of iced lime-juice. Nat took a long drink, and then turned so that the ice could be applied to the wound. "You must keep yourself as still as you can. I sha'n't attempt to bandage you at present, there is really nothing to be done till we have got the inflammation down." "I will lie quiet as long as I am awake, but I cannot answer for myself if I go off to sleep, which will not be long, for I am as tired as a dog. To-day's walk would have been nothing if I had been all right, it was the pain that wore me out." "I don't suppose you will move. You may be sure that that rib will act like an alarm, and give you warning at once if you stir in the slightest." Having seen Nat comfortable, the young surgeon went up on deck. "How do you find Mr. Glover?" the first lieutenant asked. "He says that it is only a broken rib." "Well, sir, it was only a broken rib at first, now it is a broken rib with acute inflammation round it. There is a flesh wound about four inches long where the bullet struck, broke the rib, ran along it, and went out behind. That would not have been anything if he had kept quiet; as it is, it is as angry as you could want to see a wound. But that is not the worst, the two ends of the bone have been rubbing against each other with enough movement to lacerate the flesh, with the natural result that a wonderful amount of inflammation has been set up round it." "But how did he manage it?" "It seems, sir, that he has been carrying, or helping to carry, a sick woman down from the mountains, and he says the ground was very rough and strewn with boughs, so that one can understand that he got some terrible shakes and jolts, which would quite account for the state of his wounds." "I should think so. When Monsieur Duchesne came off with the news that his wife was safely hidden, and that Glover was with her, he said that his daughter, who had written the note, reported that her mother was ill. No wonder he has got his wound in such a state if he has, as you say, aided to carry her down all that distance. He must have had a brush with the negroes." "That must have been before he started, sir; for he said that the bandage shifted, so his wound must have been bound up before he set out." "It was a gallant thing for a lad to undertake--a most gallant action! Why, it must have been torture to him." "It must indeed, sir." "He is not in any danger, I hope?" "Not unless fever intervenes, sir. No doubt with rest and quiet and the use of ice we shall succeed in reducing the inflammation; but it is likely enough that fever may set in, and if so there is no saying how it may go. I shall be glad to have Doctor Bemish back again to take the responsibility off my hands." Late that afternoon Monsieur Duchesne came on board to thank Nat. He was not allowed to see him, as the doctor said that absolute quiet was indispensable. He had had a full account from Myra of the adventures through which the little party had gone, and he retailed this to the lieutenant and doctor in the ward-room. "A most gallant business altogether," the first lieutenant said when he had finished, "and certainly the most gallant part of it was undertaking to carry Madame Duchesne when practically disabled. But I can understand, as you say, that directly the negroes were defeated by the force that went out against them, some of them would have made for that cave, and it was therefore absolutely necessary to get away before they came. However, I hope that we need not be anxious about him; he has gone through three or four scrapes, any of which might have been fatal. There was that fight with the dog; then he was in the thick of that business with the pirates, and was blown up by the explosion, and half his crew killed. He has had some marvellous escapes, and I think we may feel very hopeful that he will get over this without serious trouble. It was lucky indeed his finding your family jewels on two of those scoundrels that he shot." "It would have been a great loss, but it is such a little thing in comparison to the saving of my wife and daughter, that I have scarcely given it a thought. I shall do myself the pleasure of calling again to-morrow morning to know how he is." "Do so, monsieur; you will probably find Captain Crosbie here. I had a note from him an hour ago, saying that he was returning, and would be here by eight o'clock. The negroes having been defeated, and the safety of the town being ensured for a while, he does not consider that he would be justified in joining in the pursuit of the blacks among the hills." Nat was not aware of the return of the landing-party until the next morning, when on opening his eyes he saw Dr. Bemish by his side. "You young scamp," the latter said, shaking his finger at him, "you seem determined to be a permanent patient. As soon as you recover from one injury you are laid up with another. So here you are again." "It is only a trifle this time, doctor." "Umph, I am not so sure about that. Macfarlane tells me that, not content with getting a rib broken, you go about carrying one end of a stretcher with a woman on it across ground where it was difficult, if not impossible, to move without ricking and hurting yourself. So that not only have you set up a tremendous amount of inflammation round the wound, but you have so worn the ends of the bone that they will take three times as long knitting together as they would have done had they been left alone." "I am afraid that is all true, doctor," Nat replied with a smile; "but, you see, I thought it better to run the risk of inflammation, and even this terrible rubbing of the end of the bones you speak of, than of being caught by these fiendish negroes, and put to death by the hideous tortures with which they have in many cases slowly murdered those who fell into their hands." "It must have hurt you badly," Dr. Bemish said, as, after removing the dressing that had, late the evening before, been substituted for the ice, he examined the wound. "It did hurt a bit, doctor, but as four lives depended upon my being able to hold on, there was nothing for it but to set one's teeth hard and keep at it. How does it look this morning?" "What do you think, Macfarlane? you can form a better opinion than I can, as I have not seen it before." "The inflammation seems to have abated a good deal." "In any case we will syringe the wound thoroughly with warm water. There are doubtless some particles of bone in it, and until these are got rid of we can't hope that it will heal properly. I will get that large magnifying-glass from my cabin." For half an hour the wound was fomented and washed. "As far as I can see it is perfectly clean now," Dr. Bemish said, after carefully examining it with the glass. "We will put a compress on, with a wet cloth over it, which must be damped with iced water every half-hour. When we quite get the inflammation down, Glover, which will, I hope, be in two or three days, we will bandage it tightly, and I will buy you a pair of stays on shore, and lace you up so that there shall be no chance of your performing any more pranks with it, and then I fancy you will be able to come up on deck, if you will promise to keep yourself quiet there." "Well, that is better than I expected, doctor." "Have you any message to send to your friends? because I am going ashore now to see them. Monsieur Duchesne was off yesterday afternoon, but Macfarlane very properly refused to let him see you." "Tell him he can't see me for some days, doctor. I do so hate being made a fuss over." "I will keep him away for a day or two anyhow," the doctor laughed. "He gave the ward-room a full history of your affair, so you won't have the trouble of going over it again." "That is a comfort," Nat growled. "How long is the _Orpheus_ likely to stop here, doctor?" "Ah, that is more than I can say! At any rate the captain will not leave until he gets orders from Jamaica. The _Æolus_ has just come into port, and the captain will send her off at once with despatches to the admiral, saying what has taken place, and how he landed a force to protect the town, and went out with a party to attack the insurgent blacks. He will ask for instructions, as they have no French vessel of war here, and the land force is insufficient to defend the place if attacked in earnest, especially as there is a considerable negro population who would probably rise and join the insurgents if these made an assault upon the town. The general hope on board is that we shall get orders to stay here, or at least to cruise on the coast. Now that we have broken up that nest of pirates, things are likely to be dull here for some time, though I have little doubt that ere very long we shall be at war with the French. According to the last news, which arrived since you left us, that National Assembly of theirs is going farther and farther, and its proceedings are causing serious alarm throughout Europe, for they are altogether subversive of the existing state of things. It is to its measures that this terrible insurrection here is due, and the first consequence of what is really a revolution in France will be the loss of her most valuable colony. I suppose you have heard that something like two thousand whites have been murdered. I have no doubt that now they have recovered from the first shock, the French here will take a terrible vengeance; but though they may kill a great number of the negroes, I doubt if it will be possible to reduce half a million blacks to submission, especially in an island like this, with mountain ranges running through it where cannon would be absolutely useless, and the negroes could shelter in the almost impenetrable forests that cover a large portion of it." CHAPTER XI A FIRST COMMAND For another couple of days no one was permitted to see Nat, but at the end of that time the wound assumed a healthy aspect, and he was allowed to receive visits. Captain Crosbie himself was the first to come down. "I am very glad to hear so good an account of you, Mr. Glover," he said cordially; "you have done us credit again, lad, and have rendered an inestimable service to Monsieur Duchesne and his family. Although it can hardly be considered as in your regular course of duty, I shall certainly forward a narrative of your adventures to the admiral. The next time we go to Port Royal you had better go in for your examination, and if you pass I have very little doubt that acting rank will be given to you at once. Your aiding to carry down that lady, when yourself wounded, was really a very fine action, for Doctor Bemish tells me that you must have suffered intensely. Monsieur Duchesne is most anxious to see you, but the doctor has told him that it will be better for him to wait until you are well enough to go ashore, when you can go and see them all together." "Thank you, sir, I would much rather do that. But really the person to be thanked is the old negress who gave us warning in time to escape, went down and fetched food, despatched a message to Monsieur Duchesne, and got an answer back, and who did as much as I did in carrying her mistress down." "Doubtless she behaved very well, Mr. Glover, but that does not alter the fact that you did so also. And, as even you will admit, she had no hand in the fight in which you killed eight of these scoundrels." "It was not much of a fight, sir. I had such an advantage in position that I really did not like shooting them, in spite of what I had heard of their doings; but it was our lives or theirs, and I knew that if one of them got away he would bring down a score of others, and they would speedily have starved us out." "At the present time," the captain said sternly, "mercy to these villains would be misapplied; the lesson must be a terrible one, or there will speedily be an end to white rule in the island. Another thing is, that were this revolution to succeed, we might expect similar outbreaks in our own islands. Now I will leave you. Your comrades will come in to see you, but their visits must, for the present, be short." Nat progressed rapidly. In three days the water-dressings were given up and he was tightly bandaged, and over this, rather to his disgust, the doctor insisted upon his wearing a pair of stays. "It is all very well, Glover," Doctor Bemish said in answer to his remonstrances, "but we know what you are. You are as active as a cat, and would be constantly forgetting yourself, and springing to do something; but these things laced tightly on will act as a reminder, and will also bind you so closely together that, while you will have the free use of your limbs, your ribs will be held as if in a vice. You will have to keep them on until the bone has fairly knit, and you have every reason to be thankful that this is the only inconvenience you have to suffer from an expedition which might have cost you your life." Four days later Doctor Bemish said: "I think you can go ashore to-day. Of course you must be careful, especially, getting in and out of the boat, but if you do that and walk slowly, I do not think it will do you any harm. Madame Duchesne is up and going on nicely, and they are most anxiously expecting you, and indeed Duchesne said yesterday, that if I did not let you go on shore to-day, he would come on board to see you." "But I feel like a hog in armour in these stays, doctor." "Never mind that, lad, you would be almost as bad if you took them off, for I should have to put on twice as many bandages, and to pull them ever so much tighter. I have told the captain that I am letting you go ashore, and have also told Mr. Philpot, so that is all settled. I shall be going off myself in an hour, and will take you with me, and keep an eye over you until you get to their gate." "One would think that I was a small boy going to be taken to school," Nat laughed, stopping, however, abruptly. "There! you see," the doctor said, "that gave you a twinge, I know; you must be careful, lad, you must, indeed. There is no objection to your smiling as much as you like, but there is nothing that shakes one up more than a hearty laugh. That is why at other times laughing is a healthy exercise, but with a rib in the process of healing, it is better not to indulge in it." "Well, I shall be ready when you are." Nat accomplished the journey without pain. "Won't you come in, doctor?" he asked when they arrived at the gate. "No, Glover; this will be a sort of family party. I have warned Duchesne not to throw himself on your neck, and have told him that you are to be looked at and not touched." With an uneasy smile Nat left him at the gate and walked up the drive. They were evidently on the watch for him, for the door opened almost immediately, and Monsieur Duchesne ran down. "Mon cher!" he exclaimed, "the doctor has said that I must not touch you, but I can scarce refrain from embracing you. How can I thank you for all that you have done?" "But, monsieur, I have done next to nothing. I shot some negroes who had not a chance of getting at me, and I helped Dinah to carry madame down. We owe our safety to Dinah, who was splendid in her devotion, making journeys backwards and forwards, to say nothing of giving us the warning that enabled us all to escape in time." "Dinah was splendid!" Monsieur Duchesne admitted. "But I can do nothing for her. I have told her that she shall have a house and plenty to live on all her days, but she will not leave us. I have made out her papers of freedom, but she says, 'What use are these? I have been your servant all my life, and should be no different whether I was what you call a free woman or not.' What pleased her most was that I have given freedom to her grandson who brought the message down here, and am going to employ him in my stable, and that she has received a new black silk gown. She has got it on in honour of your visit, and if it had been a royal robe she could not be more proud of it." They had by this time arrived at the door, and Monsieur Duchesne led Nat to the drawing-room, where his wife was lying on a sofa, and Myra standing beside her. The yellow dye had now nearly worn off their faces. Madame Duchesne was still pale, but she looked bright and happy. Nat went up to her and took her hand. "I am truly glad to see you up again," he said. "It has all ended well," she replied with tears in her eyes. "It seems like a bad dream to me, especially that journey. How good and kind you were! and I know now how terribly you must have suffered." "It hurt a bit at the time, madame, but one gets accustomed to being hurt, and it all went on so well that it was not worth grumbling about." "Ah, you look more yourself now, Myra!" and he held out his hand to her. "Embrace him, my dear, for me and for yourself. Twice has he saved your life, and has been more than a brother to you." Myra threw her arms round Nat's neck and kissed him heartily twice, while her eyes were full of tears. "I have not hurt you, I hope," she said as he drew back. "Not a bit, and I should not have minded if you had," Nat said. Then he sat down, and they talked quietly for some time. "I am going out to-morrow again," Monsieur Duchesne said, "it is the duty of every white to join in punishing these ungrateful fiends. I hear that they have been beaten badly near Port-au-Prince. Some of the negroes are, we find, remaining quietly on the plantations, and these, unless they have murdered their masters, will be spared. No quarter will be given to those taken in arms. At any rate we shall clear all of them out of the plains near the bay, and drive them into the mountains, where we cannot hope to subdue them till a large number of troops arrive from home." So vigorously, indeed, did the whites pursue the negroes, that in a fortnight after the outbreak it was calculated that no fewer than ten thousand blacks had fallen, many of them being put to death by methods almost as cruel and ferocious as those they had themselves adopted. They were still in such vast numbers that it was evident that it would be impossible to overpower them until troops arrived from France; and, indeed, the farther the French columns penetrated into the mountains, the more severe was the resistance they met with, and on several occasions the whites were repulsed with heavy loss. A truce was therefore agreed upon, it being arranged that neither party should attack the other until its expiration. There being, therefore, no occasion for the _Orpheus_ to remain longer at Cape François, she sailed for Jamaica. Nat's wounds continued to go on well. He was still stiff, and felt the advantages of the encircling stays so much that he no longer objected to wear them. As it was likely that, until matters were finally settled, the _Orpheus_ would be constantly cruising on the coast of Hayti, and that he would ere long see his French friends again, the parting was not a sad one; and, indeed, Nat was by no means sorry to get under way again to escape the expressions of gratitude of Monsieur Duchesne and his wife. Two days after arriving at Port Royal, Nat received notice that a court, composed of three captains of vessels then in port, would, on the following day, sit to examine midshipmen who had either served their time or were within a year of completing it. He at once sent in his name. As he had read hard during the time he had been unfit for service, he had no fear of not passing the ordeal, and at the conclusion of his examination he was told by the president of the court that he had passed with great credit. On returning to the frigate, he found a note from the admiral requesting him to call upon him on his return from the court, and he at once proceeded to the flag-ship. "I have heard a great deal of you, Mr. Glover," the admiral said when he was ushered into his cabin. "First of all I heard the story from your captain of the gallant manner in which you, at the risk of your own, saved a young lady's life at Cape François, when attacked by a savage hound, and were seriously injured thereby. Then I received Captain Crosbie's official report of the share you took in the attack upon that formidable nest of pirates, the report being supplemented by his subsequent relation to me of the whole facts of the affair. Your conduct there also did you very great credit, and, had you passed, I should at once have given you acting rank. Now you have again distinguished yourself, though scarcely in a manner which comes under my official knowledge. I should be glad to hear from you a detailed account of the affair." When Nat had finished his narration, he said, "You have scarcely done justice to yourself. Your captain and Dr. Bemish were dining with me last night, and the latter said that, wounded as you were, the work of carrying that French lady down to the coast must have been an intensely painful one, as was shown by the state of your wound when he examined it. In all these matters you have shown courage and conduct, and as I hear that you have now passed, I shall take the first opportunity of giving you acting rank. You speak French fluently?" "I speak it quite fluently, sir, but as I have only picked it up by ear, I cannot say that I speak it well." "However, the fact that you speak it well enough to converse freely may be useful. Hayti is likely to be in a very disturbed state for some time. There can be little doubt that the negroes in the other islands are all watching what takes place there with close attention, and that there is a possibility of the revolt spreading. At present there is no saying what the course of events may be. Already the governor here has received letters from several French residents expressing their desire that we should take the island, as they believe that the French revolutionary government will make no serious effort to put down the rising. Of course, at present, as we are at peace with France, nothing whatever can be done. At the same time, it is important that we should obtain accurate information as to what is going on there, and what is the feeling of the negroes and of the mulatto population, and we shall probably have several small vessels cruising in those waters. The _Falcon_, under the command of Lieutenant Low, who also belonged to the _Orpheus_, has been for some weeks on the southern coast of the island. I intend to have three or four other craft at the same work soon, and on the first opportunity I shall appoint you to one of them." Nat expressed his warm thanks, and retired. Three or four days later he received an intimation that the prize _Arrow_, a schooner of a hundred and fifty tons, would at once be put into commission, and that the admiral had selected him for her command. This was far more than Nat had even hoped for. From the manner in which the admiral had spoken, he thought that he would be appointed to a craft of this description, but he had no expectation whatever of being given the command. With the intimation was an order for him to again call upon the admiral. "It is a small command," the admiral said when Nat expressed his thanks for the appointment. "We cannot spare you more than twenty-five hands, a quarter-master, and two midshipmen. You will have Mr. Turnbull of the _Leander_ as your first officer, and Mr. Lippincott of the _Pallas_. She has carried six guns hitherto, but you will only take four. These, however, will be twelve-pounders; before, she had only nines. Naturally, it is not intended that she shall do any fighting. Of course, if you are attacked you will defend yourself, but you are hardly a match for any of these piratical craft except quite the smaller class--native boats manned by bands of desperadoes. Your mission will be to cruise on the coast of Hayti, to take off white fugitives should any show themselves, and to communicate if possible with the negroes, find out the object they propose to themselves, and report on their forces, organization, and methods of fighting. In all this great care will be necessary, for they have shown themselves so faithless and treacherous that it is impossible to place any confidence in their promises of safe-conduct. In such matters it is impossible to give any advice as to your conduct, you must be guided by circumstances; be prudent and careful, and at the same time enterprising. The schooner is a very fast one. She has been a slaver, and has more than once shown her heels to some of our fastest cruisers. Therefore, if you come across any piratical craft too big to fight, you will at least have a fair chance of outsailing her." Greatly delighted, Nat returned to the _Orpheus_. "So, you are going to leave us, Mr. Glover," the captain said when he came on board. "I congratulate you, but at the same time we shall be very sorry to lose you, and I hope that when there is a vacancy we shall have you back again. You fully deserve your promotion, and have been a credit to the ship." The next day Nat moved his effects ashore. There was but little leave-taking between him and his comrades, for it was certain that they would often meet at Port Royal. He spent his time for the next fortnight in the dockyard seeing to the refitting of the schooner. The superintendent there had heard of the affair with the dog, and of the manner in which he had saved the lives of the French lady and her daughter, Dr. Bemish being an old friend of his. He was, therefore, much more complaisant than dockyard officials generally are to the demands made upon them by young lieutenants in command of small craft. Indeed, when the schooner was ready for sea Nat had every reason to be proud of her. She had been provided with a complete suit of new canvas, all her woodwork had been scraped and varnished, the running rigging was new, and the standing rigging had also been renewed wherever it showed signs of wear. Her ballast, which had before been almost entirely of iron ore, was now of pig-iron, and in view of the extra stability so given she had had new topmasts ten feet higher than those she had before carried. "I should advise you to keep your weather eye lifting, Mr. Glover," Captain Crosbie said when Nat paid his farewell visit to the frigate; "that craft of yours looks very much over-sparred. If you were caught in a squall with your topsails up the chances are you would turn turtle." "I will be very careful, sir," Nat said; "although, now she has iron ballast, I think that even with the slight addition in the height of the spars she will be as stiff as she was before in moderate breezes, while she will certainly be faster in light winds." "That is so," the captain agreed; "and of course it is in light winds that speed is of the most importance. There can be no doubt that in the hands of a careful commander a large spread of canvas is a great advantage, while in the hands of a rash one a craft can hardly be too much under-sparred." Turnbull, Nat's first officer, was a quiet young fellow, a few months junior to Nat. He was square in build, with a resolute but good-humoured face, and Nat had no doubt that the admiral had selected him as being likely to pull better with him than a more lively and vivacious young fellow would be. From the first day they met on board he was sure that he and Turnbull would get on extremely well together. The latter carried out his suggestions and orders as punctually as he would have done those of a post-captain, going about his work in as steady and business-like a way as if he had been accustomed for years to perform the duties of a first officer. One evening Nat had asked him and Lippincott to dine with him at an hotel, and ordered a private room. "I think," he said when the meal was over and the waiter had placed the dessert and wine on the table and had retired, "that we are going to have a very pleasant cruise. I am afraid we sha'n't have much chance of distinguishing ourselves in the fighting way, though we may pick up some of those rascally little craft that prey on the native commerce and capture a small European merchantman occasionally. With our small crew we certainly cannot regard ourselves as a match for any of the regular pirates, who would carry vastly heavier metal, and crews of at least four times our strength. The admiral expressly warned me that it was not intended that the _Arrow_ should undertake that sort of business. Our mission is rather to gain news of what passes in the interior, pick up fugitives who may be hiding in the woods, and act in fact as a sort of floating observatory. Any fighting, therefore, that we may get will be if we are attacked. In that case, of course, we shall do our best. I am sure we shall be a pleasant party on board. Of course in a small craft like this we shall mess together. It is necessary, for the sake of discipline, that when we are on deck we should follow the usual observances, but when we are below together we shall be three mess-mates without any formality or nonsense." The two juniors remained on their ships until the schooner was out of the hands of the dockyard men. According to custom, Nat did not join until they and the crew had gone on board and spent a day in scrubbing the decks and making everything tidy and ship-shape; then the gig went ashore to fetch him off. As he rowed alongside he could not help smiling at seeing the sentries at the gangway and the two young officers standing there to receive him. However, with an effort he recovered his gravity, mounted the short accommodation ladder, saluted the flag, and returned the salutes of his officers and men. On board the frigate he had been an inconsiderable member of the crowd, now he was monarch of all he surveyed. Then the crew were formed up, and according to custom he read his commission appointing him to the command, and the articles of war. "Now, my men," he said when he had brought the meeting to an end, "I have, according to rule, read the articles of war, a very necessary step when taking command of a vessel of war with hands collected from all parts, and many of them coming on board one of his majesty's ships for the first time; but it is a mere formality to a crew composed of men like yourselves, who will, I am perfectly sure, do your duty in storm and calm, and who will, should there be any occasion for fighting, show that, small as our number is, we are capable of taking our own part against a considerably larger force. I and my officers, will do all in our power to make the ship a comfortable and pleasant one, and I rely upon you to show your zeal and heartiness in the service." The men replied with a hearty cheer. Most of them belonged to the _Orpheus_. These had already told the others of their captain's doings in Hayti and in the attack on the pirate island, and said how popular he was on board. "I think we are going to have a good time," one of the others said as they went forward. "We ain't likely to capture anything very big in this cockle-shell, and I look upon it as a sort of pleasure ship." "You will see, if he gets a chance he will take it," one of the men from the _Orpheus_ said. "I was with him in that fight against the pirates, and I tell you I have never been in anything hotter. I was one of those who volunteered to go with him to drown the magazine of the brigantine next to us, and I tell you I never felt so scared in my life. He was just as cool as a cucumber, though he had been knocked silly by that explosion a quarter of an hour before. He is the right sort, he is; and though I expect he has got orders not to tackle anything too big for us--he is not the sort of chap to run away if he can find the smallest excuse for fighting." In the meantime Nat had gone below with the two midshipmen. The accommodation for officers was excellent. There was a large cabin aft which had been handsomely fitted up by the late captain. Off this on one side was his state-room, on the other those for the two officers; beyond these were the steward's cabin and pantry on one side, and a spare cabin which had been given to the quarter-master on the other. Nat had engaged a negro as cook, and his son, a lad of seventeen or eighteen, as cabin steward, and had sent on board a small stock of wines. He ordered the boy to open a bottle and to put glasses on the table, and they drank together to the success of the cruise. They had just finished when the quarter-master came down. "The admiral is signalling for us to send a boat to him, sir." "Lower the gig at once!" and he and the officers followed the quarter-master on deck. "Mr. Lippincott, you had better go with it." In half an hour the midshipman returned with a despatch. Nat broke the seal. It had evidently been dictated by the admiral to his clerk, his signature being at the foot. _News has just arrived that the French Assembly has cancelled the act placing the mulattoes on the same footing as the whites, and the former have in consequence risen and have joined the blacks. The situation must be most precarious for whites in the island. Get up sail at once and make for Cape François. Cruise between that port and the south-eastern limit of Hayti. Do what you can to aid fugitives._ "We are to be off at once," he said to Mr. Turnbull. "Please get up the anchor and make sail. There is fresh trouble in Hayti; the mulattoes have joined the blacks." The quarter-master's whistle sounded, and the crew sprang into activity. The capstan was manned, and the men ran to loosen the sails, and in ten minutes the _Falcon_ was on her way. "Matters were bad enough before," Nat said when, having seen that the sails were all set and everything in good order, his two officers came aft. "A few mulattoes, overseers and that class, rose with the negroes, but the great bulk of them, having got what they wanted, joined the whites or stood neutral; but now that they have thrown in their lot with the blacks the prospect seems almost desperate. However it turns out, there is no doubt that the island is ruined, and the whites who were lucky enough to escape with their lives will find that instead of being rich men they are penniless. It is a horrible business altogether. I shall be glad when we get to Cape François and can get news of what is really going on." Nat was delighted at the speed shown by the schooner. The breeze was light, and she felt the full advantage of her added spread of canvas. She was a very beamy craft of light draught, and scarcely showed a perceptible heel under the pressure of the wind, fully justifying his opinion as to the improvement to be effected by the substitution of iron ballast for that which she had before carried. Turnbull and Lippincott were no less pleased, and the whole crew felt proud of their little craft. "She can go, sir, and no mistake!" Turnbull said, as they stood aft looking upwards at the sails and down into the water glancing past her sides. "It would take a fast craft indeed to overhaul her; her sails are splendidly cut!" "Yes, I tipped the man who is at the head of the sail-making gang a five-pound note to take special pains with them, and the money would have been well laid out if it had been fifty times as much; for it will make the difference of a point at least when she is close-hauled, and that means getting away from a fellow too big for us, instead of being overhauled by him." "Yes," Turnbull said with a smile, "and might enable us to keep out of reach of his bow-guns, while we hammered him with our stern-chaser." "Yes, it might have that effect," Nat replied with an answering smile. "What is she going through the water now, quarter-master?" "A good seven knots, sir." "That is fast enough. The _Orpheus_ would not be making more than six in such a light breeze as this." Towards sunset the wind fell until it scarcely seemed that there was a breath on the water, but the schooner still crept along at two and a half knots an hour, although her sails scarcely lifted. The crew had already been divided in watches. Turnbull took the starboard, and Lippincott the larboard watch. "I hardly know myself," Nat laughed, as they sat together in the cabin after dinner. "Except when I was on the sick list, this is my first experience of not having a night watch to keep. However, I expect I shall be up and down, and at any rate call me if there is the slightest change in the weather. We know what she can do in a light wind now, but we won't risk anything until we have seen how she carries her sails in a sharp blow." Somewhat restless under the extent of his responsibility, Nat was on deck several times during the night. There was, however, no sign of change. The _Arrow_ was still stealing through the water with the wind abeam. The two midshipmen, equally impressed with the responsibility of being in command of a watch, were on the alert, and the look-out was vigilant. The wind freshened again when the sun rose. At noon there were white-heads on the water, and the schooner, heeling over a bit now, was doing nearly nine knots. The three officers all took an observation, and to their satisfaction found that they were within half a mile of each other. At the present moment, however, there was no doubt as to their situation, for the high land near Cape Dame Marie lay clearly in sight over the bowsprit, while behind them the hills over Morant Point lay like a dim haze. "If we had had this wind the whole way," Nat said regretfully, "we should have been well in the bay by this time. Still, we must not grumble; we have made a hundred knots. The mid-day gun fired just as we got under way, and, considering that for twelve hours we had no wind worth speaking of, I think we have done very well. Indeed, if the wind will hold like this, we shall be near port by noon to-morrow; but we can't reckon on that, it is sure to fall before sunset, and besides, the winds are generally baffling and shifty when we once get into the bay." By three o'clock the wind had already begun to fall, and by five they were lying almost becalmed off the westerly point of the island. For the next two days the wind was very light, and it was late in the afternoon of the second when they dropped anchor off Cape François. Nat at once went ashore, and as usual received a warm welcome from the Duchesnes. Madame had now quite recovered from the effect of her adventure, as also had Myra. "I did not know that the _Orpheus_ was in port, or else we should have been expecting you." "She is not in port, madame. I arrived in his majesty's schooner _Arrow_, which I have the honour to command." "Then you are Captain Glover now? I must be very respectful," and Myra made a deep curtsy. "It will be a good many years before I shall have the right to be addressed by that title. I have passed my examination as lieutenant, and have now acting rank, which will no doubt be confirmed by the authorities at home, and I may be addressed as lieutenant without any breach of etiquette. Still, of course, it is a grand thing to get a command, and so much greater chance of distinguishing oneself. However, as she is but a small craft, and carries only twenty-five men, we are not in a position to do any great thing in the way of fighting, though of course we may overhaul and capture some of these native craft that are nominally traders, but are ready to capture any small vessel they may come across. My mission really is to obtain news of what is passing in the island. We have received word at Kingston that the mulattoes have risen and joined the blacks, and I have been sent off at once to learn the real state of things." "Unhappily the news is true," Monsieur Duchesne said. "There have already been several fights, in some of which we have got the best of it, in others we have been driven back to the towns. It is impossible for the look-out to be darker than it is. It seems to us that our only hope is that England will consent to take over the sovereignty of the island, and send a force large enough to put down the insurrection. Some of the planters here have already lost heart, and have sailed for Jamaica, Bermuda, and other British ports. I have no intention of following their example at present. I am, as you know, a merchant as well as a planter, and although, of course, all trade is at an end now, it must spring up again in time. Fortunately, we feel confident that this town can resist any assault. The French man-of-war that came in after you sailed landed a dozen of her guns, and we have erected four batteries. There were, too, a good many old guns in the town, which have also been put into position; and as we have half a French regiment here, and fully five hundred whites who can be relied on, we have small fear of being overpowered. I am glad to say that before the man-of-war left, the great majority of the negroes were expelled from the town and their quarter burnt down, so that we have no fear of being attacked from within as well as from without. That was really our greatest danger, and has been hanging over us night and day ever since the beginning of the rising." "Are the mulattoes and negroes acting together?" "In some cases, but as a rule they keep apart. There is no love lost between them, and the only bond of union is hatred of us. The blacks, curiously enough, have declared against the republic, and call themselves the royalist army. They consider, and very naturally, that the republic, while giving rights to the mulattoes, has done nothing for them, and therefore, as the republic has declared against the king, they have declared for him. Do you think that the English government will accept our offer to transfer ourselves to British rule?" "I do not see that they could do so, sir. At present we are nominally at peace with France, although everyone sees that war must come before long, but until it is declared we could scarcely take over a French possession; nor do I think there are anything like troops enough in our islands to undertake such a serious operation as this would be. Your people could not give us much help. The negroes, though calling themselves royalists, are fighting only for liberty, and would gain nothing by a mere change of masters, knowing as they do that the slaves are certainly no better treated in our islands than in those of France." "That is what I thought," Monsieur Duchesne said. "Certainly nothing short of an army of thirty thousand strong could hope for success, and I doubt, indeed, whether in so large and mountainous an island even that number could do much. Of course fully half of it is Spanish, which complicates matters a great deal; but we may be sure that if the negroes of this end are successful, those under the Spaniards will very soon follow their example. If the worst comes to the worst, I shall of course leave the island. Whether I should settle in one of your islands or make England my residence I cannot say. Some of my countrymen have gone to America, but I should put that out of my mind. I think I should prefer England to remaining out here, for there might be similar risings in Jamaica and elsewhere; as to France, it is out of the question. "France has gone mad. I know that many of our good families have sought refuge in England, and we should at least find society congenial to us. Happily, we are in a condition to choose for ourselves; my ancestors have been wise men, and have long foreseen that what has actually occurred might possibly take place. Each in succession has impressed his views upon his son, and it has become almost a family tradition among us, and one upon which we have often been rallied. For with few exceptions all here seem to have regarded the state of things as being as unchangeable as Scripture says were the laws of the Medes and Persians. If this had been only a tradition, and had not been acted upon, it would not have benefited us now, but for six generations each of my ancestors has regarded it as a sacred duty to set aside nearly a tenth of his revenues as a provision when the troubles should come. This money has been chiefly invested in England and Holland, and the interest on the accumulations of all these years has been reinvested. I believe that, although I regard such investments as were made in France as lost, we shall, when we reckon up matters, find that our income will be fully as large as that which I have drawn from my property and trade here." "I am very glad to hear it, Monsieur Duchesne. I have indeed, while I have been away, thought very often of what would happen to you and your family if you were forced to finally abandon your estate and leave the island." "I have reason to be grateful indeed, Nat, to the forethought of those who have gone before me; it is strange that the same idea did not occur to others. One can see now that our people here have been living in a fool's paradise, totally oblivious of the fact that a volcano might at any moment open under their feet. Are you going to remain here?" "Oh, no! I am only making this a starting-place. My orders are to cruise along the southern coast, to render any assistance I can to the refugees, and if possible, to open communications with some of the chiefs of the insurgents and endeavour to find out what their plans are, and, should it be decided to accept the cession of the island when war with France breaks out, what the attitude of the blacks and mulattoes would be." "You will not be likely to pick up any refugees, for the whites are exterminated except in the towns; but should any of the smaller places be attacked you might render good service by receiving at least the women and children on board." That evening Monsieur Duchesne asked his brother-in-law, the doctor, and several other leading inhabitants, to his house, in order that Nat might gather their views. He found that these in the main agreed with those of his host, except that they were hopeful that France would, as soon as the news arrived, despatch an army of sufficient force to put down the insurrection. After the last of the guests had departed, Monsieur Duchesne shook his head. "France will ere long require every soldier to defend her own frontiers; the saturnalia of blood in which she is indulging will cause her to be regarded as the common enemy of Europe. I hear that already the emigrant nobles are pressing the various European courts to march armies into France to free the king and royal family from their imprisonment by the mob of Paris, and ere long there will assuredly be a coalition which France will need all her strength to resist. England is certain to join it; and even had France troops to spare, she would find a difficulty in sending them here. So you will not change your mind and stay with us for the night?" "It is already nearly eleven, and I ordered the gig to be alongside at that hour. I certainly should not like to sleep out of the ship, though I have no doubt that my two young officers would see that everything went on right." On reaching the schooner, Nat found that both Turnbull and Lippincott were still up. "It was such a lovely night that we have been smoking on deck until a few minutes ago; we were, of course, anxious to hear the news." At Nat's order the steward brought hot water and glasses; three tumblers of grog were filled, and they sat for a couple of hours discussing the strange situation in the island. CHAPTER XII A RESCUE The _Arrow_ was one morning lying at anchor in a small bay on the south coast, when one of the sailors called Nat's attention to a boy who had run down and was wildly waving his arms. Nat caught up his telescope. "It may be a white boy," he said. "Lower the gig! I will go myself in her. Quick! he may be pursued." It took but a very short time to cross the quarter of a mile of water. The lad rushed in up to his chin to meet them, and was quickly hauled into the boat. His hands and face had been blackened, but this had so worn off that he merely presented the appearance of a sooty-faced white boy. He burst into a fit of convulsive sobbing as he found himself among friends. Nat saw that it was useless to question him at the moment, so he told the men to row back at once to the schooner; then he half-carried him down to his own cabin, brought out a glass of wine, and gave it to him. "Drink that up, lad," he said, "then you can tell me something about yourself." The boy put the glass with shaking hands to his lips and drank it down. "That is right, lad; now tell me something about yourself. What is your name?" "I am a girl, monsieur; my name is Louise Pickard. We have been hiding in the forest for six weeks--my father and mother, my sister, and ten Frenchmen, who worked for us. We lived on fruit and what provisions the men could obtain by going down to the plantations at night. Two days ago the negroes found us; they killed one of the men at once, and the rest of us they took. My sister and I were dressed as boys. They were going to kill us one by one; they burnt one of the men to death yesterday, and tied us to trees round and made us look on. This morning they killed another; they cut off his arms at the elbows and his legs at the knees, and then cut him about with knives till he died. Then they shut us up together again. There was a little window, and my father pushed me through it. He had heard the negroes say that there was a vessel in the bay with white men in it. The hole was in the back of the house, and there were trees there, so that I managed to get off without being seen by the negroes. My father tried to get Valerie through the same window, but she was too big. She is two years older than I am, and I could not have squeezed through had not my father pushed me. He told me to come down to the shore and take refuge with you." "How many of these black scoundrels are there?" Nat asked. [Illustration: THE RESCUE OF LOUISE PICKARD.] "Two or three hundred. The negroes are going to attack you to-night--there are some fishermen's boats at a village a mile or two along the shore. Father told me to warn you. I did not like coming away, I would have liked to have died with the others; but it was so awful to look on at the tortures. If they would but have killed us at once, I would not have minded; but oh, monsieur, it was too terrible! Can you not do something for them?" And she again burst into tears. "I will see what can be done," Nat said, putting his hand kindly on her shoulder. "I am going up on deck now. This is my cabin," and he opened the door of his berth. "The steward will bring you some hot water, then you had better have a wash and get rid of that charcoal, for I suppose it is charcoal on your face. We can do nothing for you in the way of dress at present. But if you will take off your things and put them outside the door, I will get them washed at once, and you can lie down in my berth until they are dry. They won't take very long in this hot climate." The steward by his orders brought in a can of hot water. The girl retired with it to the cabin, and Nat went on deck and told Turnbull and Lippincott what he had heard from her. "It is awful," the latter said. "Can we do nothing, sir?" "That is the point, Mr. Lippincott. I feel that it is impossible for us to remain quiet while such devilry is being carried on among those woods. But you see the matter is rendered all the more difficult by the fact that we ourselves are going to be attacked to-night. Our crew is weak enough already. If three or four boat-loads full of blacks were to fall upon us, we could not spare a man; while if we were to land, we should need every man for the job, and even then should be terribly weak. Something has to be done, that is evident, and we have to hit upon a plan. Now, let us all set our wits to work." At this moment the black steward came up from the cabin with a bundle. "The boy am put dese things outside him door, sah. Wat am me to do wid dem?" "Bring them along to the galley, Sam. I must get your father to wash them. Pomp," he went on to the cook, "have you got plenty of hot water?" "Yes, sah; allus hab hot water." "Well, look here, I want you and Sam to set to work and wash these clothes at once. The boy I brought on board turns out to be a French girl, the daughter of a planter who is in the hands of the negroes up there. We must see to-morrow what we can do in the way of rigging her out properly, but for to-day we must manage with these things. Get them as white as you can, and then hang them up to dry. I want her on deck again as soon as possible to give us information as to where her friends are confined." "All right, sah, we soon gets dese clean." "And you may as well heat up a basin of that turtle-soup we had yesterday. I expect she has had little enough to eat of late." Then he went back to the quarter-deck. "It seems to me, sir," Turnbull said, "that if the girl would go ashore with us as a guide, we might succeed. After it gets dark, put me and one of the hands on shore, with a saw and a bottle of oil to make it work noiselessly. Then we could crawl up to this little window by which she got out, and cut away the wood--for no doubt it is a wooden hut--till the hole is large enough for all of them to get out." "That seems a good plan, Turnbull, certainly; the only drawback is that probably before it gets dark the negroes will have discovered that the boy, as they consider her, has escaped, and will keep a sharp look-out on the others. Then, too, although one or two might get out noiselessly and make their escape, the chances of ten people doing so would be much smaller, and if the attempt were detected you might only share their fate. If we had all the crew close at hand to cover their retreat it might be managed, great as would be the odds against us, but you see there is this boat attack to be guarded against. I don't think that I could allow you to run such a risk, Turnbull." "Still, something must be done, sir." "Yes, we are agreed as to that," Nat said, and going to the rail he stood there gazing at the shore for some minutes. "I have an idea," he said, suddenly turning round. "You see that point near the mouth of the bay, where the rock rises eight or ten feet straight out from the water's edge; there are trees behind it. It will be a dark night, and if we could get the schooner over there without their noticing it, as I think we could, we could probably lay her pretty close alongside, and when the boats came, the betting is that they would never find her. They would row about for a bit looking for us where we are anchored, and, not finding us, would come to the conclusion that we had got up sail and gone away after dark. In that way we could land our whole party." "I think that would do first-rate, sir." "Of course there is a certain amount of risk of their discovering her," Nat went on, "but we must chance that. We will send her topmasts down as soon as it is dark, so that they won't show against the sky-line, and boats might then row within twenty yards of her without noticing her, especially if we can get her in pretty close. It is just possible that we may be able to lay her right against the rock. The water is deep pretty close in, even opposite to us, for the girl was not more than four or five yards from the shore when she was up to her neck in water, and no doubt it is a good deal deeper than that, at the foot of those rocks. As soon as it is dark, Mr. Lippincott, you had better take the boat and sound along there. Of course you will muffle your oars. It would be a great thing if we could get alongside. In the first place, the nearer she gets in the less likely that she would be to be seen, and in the next place it would be very important, if we are hotly pursued, to be able to get on board without having to use boats." "Certainly," Turnbull agreed. "When we have got her in her place," Nat went on, "we will take a light anchor out fifty fathom or so, and put the hawser round the windlass, so that the instant we are on board, four men, told off beforehand, can run forward and set to work. Once we are three yards out we should be safe from boarding, however strong their force may be. We will have the guns on that side loaded with a double charge of grape before we land, and once out we will give them a dose they will remember for a long time. Now, we may as well tell the crew; they will be delighted at the prospect of a fight." The men were clustered together forward discussing whether anything was likely to take place, for the arrival of the boy, the fact that he had been taken down to the cabin aft and had not reappeared, and the evident anxiety of their officers, sufficed to show them that something unusual was on hand. When they came aft Nat said, "My men, we are about to undertake an enterprise that will, I am sure, be after your own heart. The apparent boy we brought on board is a young French lady. Her parents, sister, and seven white men are in the hands of the negroes, who each day murder one with horrible torture. Now we are going to rescue them." A cheer broke from the men. "The job will be a pretty tough one, men, but you won't like it any the worse for that. There are, I hear, two or three hundred of those murderous brutes up there. Of course, if we can get the prisoners out without a fight we shall do so, but I hardly think we shall be able to manage that. The matter is somewhat complicated by the fact that I hear that a boat attack is going to be made upon us to-night. Now, we are certainly not strong enough to carry off this party and at the same time to leave enough men on board to defend the schooner. After it is dark, therefore, I intend to take her across to that rock over there, moor her as close to it as I can, and strike the topmasts. In that way we may hope that on a moonless night, as this will be, the boats will not find her, but will suppose that we have sailed away. However, of that we must run the risk. I shall take every man with me. Of course, we shall batten the hatches down, and fasten them so that if they do find her it will give them as much trouble as possible, and we may possibly catch them at work as we return. "You will, of course, take muskets and a brace of pistols each, and your cutlasses. I have no doubt that we are being watched from the shore, therefore go about your work as usual. Do not gather together talking, or give them any cause to suppose that we are intending to do anything. It is not likely that the escape of the girl has yet been discovered, for if they were watching among the trees up there they would hardly have noticed that the boat took an extra person from the shore. Grease the falls of the gig, so that she can be lowered noiselessly, and muffle the oars. As soon as it is quite dark Mr. Lippincott will take soundings, in order to see how close into the rock it will be safe to take her." With another low but hearty cheer, expressing the satisfaction they felt at the prospect of a fight with the negroes, the crew went forward again. One of them set to work to grease the falls not only of the gig but of the other boats, in case these should also be required, two others cut up some old guernseys and lashed them round the gig's oars at the point where they would touch the thole-pins, others resumed their occupation of polishing the brass-work, while the rest sat down under the shelter of the bulwark and talked over the adventure on which they were about to engage. In an hour the girl's clothes were washed and dried. One of the crew who had served as an assistant sail-maker had at once, under Nat's instructions, set to work to sew half a dozen flags together, and with these he had constructed a garment which, if primitive in design, was at least somewhat feminine in appearance. Round the top was a deep hem through which was run a thin cord. By the aid of this it could be drawn together and gathered in at the neck. Six inches from the top, two of the seams between the flags were left open, these were for the arm-holes. This primitive pinafore was to be drawn in at the waist by a belt. The man had chosen from among the signal flags those whose colours went best together, and though the result was extremely motley, it was yet a very fair substitute for a dress. The three officers could not help laughing as he brought it aft to show them. "That is very well contrived, Jenkins," Nat said. "I have no doubt the young lady will greatly prefer it to going about dressed as a boy." As the clothes were by this time dry, Nat told Sam to take them below with the new garment, to lay them down outside his state-room door, and then to knock and tell the young lady that they were there in readiness for her, and that as soon as she was dressed lunch would be ready. When he had done this he was to come up on deck again. A quarter of an hour later Nat himself went down. The clothes had disappeared, and the girl, who was about thirteen years of age, came out. She had, with the exception of the coat, donned her former garments, and over these had put the flag pinafore. Her arms were covered by those of the light flannel shirt, and the dress hung straight down all round. "It is a queer-looking thing," he said with a smile, "but it is the best we can manage in the emergency. Here is a belt, if you strap that round your waist it will make the thing look more comfortable." The girl smiled wanly. Now that her face and hands were clean, Nat saw that she was a pretty little thing, and would have been prettier had not her hair been cut quite short. "We are going this evening," Nat went on, "to try to rescue your parents and sister from those black fiends." She clasped her hands before her. "Oh, sir, that is good of you!" "Not at all. You don't suppose that we are going to remain here quietly, knowing that close by there are white people in the hands of those scoundrels. We shall want you to act as our guide. We are going to take a saw with us and cut away the wood round that hole you escaped by, and hope to get your friends out without the negroes seeing us. If they do, so much the worse for them. Now, will you sit down while the steward lays the cloth for lunch?--it will be ready in two or three minutes; then I will bring the other two officers down to introduce them to you." He raised his voice: "Sam! luncheon as soon as possible." The young negro was expecting the order, and ran in at once with a table-cloth and a plate-basket, and in two or three minutes the table was laid; then he went out and returned with the plates. "Eberyting ready, sah; me bring down de soup when you gib de word." "Give my compliments to Mr. Turnbull and Mr. Lippincott, and ask them to come down to lunch." The girl looked anxious and shy as she heard the footsteps coming down the companion, but an expression of relief came over her face as she saw that they were even younger than the officer she had already seen. "These are my officers, mademoiselle--Mr. Turnbull and Mr. Lippincott. Their French is not of the best, but you must make allowance for them." The girl smiled and held out her hand to the two middies. The news that her parents and sister might yet be rescued had already greatly raised her spirits. "I do look funny, do I not?" she said. "I am sure you look very nice," Turnbull replied. "It is quite a novelty for us to have a lady on board." "And are you both going to help bring my friends down?" "Yes, we are all going. We will get them down, and I hope we shall have a chance of punishing some of the murderous niggers." "You mean you hope that there will be a fight?" she asked in a tone of surprise, as she took her seat on Nat's right hand. "That I do," Turnbull said heartily. "There is not a man on board who would not be sorry if we were to get down again without an opportunity of having a slap at the beggars." "Mr. Turnbull is a very bloodthirsty character," Nat said gravely. "I don't know whether you have in French a history of Jack the Giant Killer?" "I never saw such a book," she said, looking a little puzzled. "Did he really kill giants?" "Yes, Jack did; he was wonderful that way. Mr. Turnbull has never been able to find any giants, but he means to take it out of the blacks." "I am sorry to say, mademoiselle," Turnbull said, "that although when on the quarter-deck our captain's word may be received as gospel, he permits himself a very wide latitude of speech in his own cabin. The fact is, that whatever my disposition may be, I have never yet had any opportunity for performing any very desperate actions, whereas Lieutenant Glover has been killing his enemies by scores, fighting with wild beasts, attacking pirates in their holds, has been blown up into the air, and rescued ladies from slaughter by the negroes." The French girl turned her eyes wonderingly towards Nat. "You need not believe more than you like, mademoiselle," he said with a laugh. "I am afraid that we are all given to exaggerate very much, but Mr. Turnbull is the champion fabricator." "But is it quite true that you are going to try to get my father and mother and sister away from the negroes?" "That is quite true," Nat said earnestly. "We are certainly going to try to get them, and I think that we have a good chance of doing so. Much will depend, of course, upon whether we can reach the hut where they are confined before being discovered. You see, we have only twenty-five men, or, counting us all, including the quarter-master, steward, and cook, thirty-one. It is a small force, and though we might bring all the prisoners off in safety if we once got them into our hands, it would be a serious thing if the negroes had time to rally round the hut before we got there. How does it stand, is it surrounded by trees?" "No, it is at the edge of the forest. There is a large indigo field in front, and it is there most of the negroes are. There may be some in the forest, but I did not see any as I came down here." "That is good. How many do you say there are?" "Seven men, without counting my father." "We will tell eight of the sailors to carry up boarding-pikes, Turnbull. Unfortunately we have no spare firearms. However, boarding-pikes are not bad weapons, and as no doubt only a small portion of the negroes have guns, it will add a good deal to our strength if it comes to a hand-to-hand fight." "That it will," Turnbull agreed. "That will bring us up to thirty-nine, and thirty-nine whites ought to be able to fight their way easily enough through this black mob, especially as we shall take them by surprise, and they won't know how many of us there are." As soon as it became dark, Lippincott went off in the gig, and returned in half an hour with the news that there were six feet of water at the foot of the rock, and twelve feet ten yards away. "I think, sir," he said, "that we could get her in within three or four yards of the rock." "That would do excellently," Nat said. "The carpenter had better set to work at once and nail three planks--we have got some down below fifteen feet long--side by side. Let two of the hands help him. Tell him, if he does not think that it will be stiff enough, to nail one of the spare oars on each plank." He had learned from the girl that many of the negroes sat up by their fires nearly all night, and that therefore there was no advantage in delaying the landing, and he was anxious to move the schooner as soon as possible, as the boats might appear at any time. Everything was in readiness--the arms had been brought on deck, the muskets and pistols loaded, and as soon as the gangway was knocked together, which did not take many minutes, Lippincott went off in the gig with a long hawser. As soon as he returned and reported that he had fastened it to a tree above the rock, the crew tailed on, and the schooner was noiselessly towed to her place. Another hawser was taken on shore, and she was hauled broadside on until she lay, with only a few inches of water under her keel, within ten feet of the line of rock. The hatchways had all been securely fastened down, and an old chain was taken round the trunk of a large tree, and its ends shackled round the mainmast. This could be loosed almost instantaneously by the crew when they returned, but would much increase the difficulty that the negroes would encounter in getting the vessel away if they discovered her. The edge of the rock was but some three feet higher than the rail, and there was therefore no difficulty in ascending the gangway. When all had crossed, this was pulled up and pushed in among the bushes. They followed the shore till they reached the spot at which the girl had come down, as she would more easily find her way from there than from the place where they had landed. Telling the others to follow in single file, Nat took his place with the girl, at their head. "How far is it?" he said to her in low tones. "It is just at the top of the hill. We shall be there in less than a quarter of an hour." The sailors had been warned to walk with the greatest caution, and especially to avoid striking any of their weapons against the trees. They went slowly, for it was very dark in the forest. Beyond the fact that she had come straight down the hill when she escaped, she could give no information about the way. "I did not look," she said; "I ran straight down. But I am sure that if we go as straight as we can up from the water, we shall come upon the plantation, and then I shall be able to tell you exactly where the hut is." Keeping therefore upward, they went on until they reached level ground, and saw by the faint light ahead that they were nearing the edge of the forest. They stepped even more cautiously then until they arrived at the open ground. A dozen great fires blazed in various places in front of them, and they could hear the laughing and talking of the negroes. "It is more to the right," the girl said. "It is nearly in the corner of the field where you see that fire; that is close to the hut. They always keep a big fire there, and the leaders sleep round it. There are always two negroes on guard in front of the hut." "I expect they have got one behind now. Of course they have found out by this time that you have escaped, and they must have known that it could only have been by that window." Keeping well inside the line of trees, they crept along to the corner of the clearing. The two negroes had been instructed in the part they were to play, and as soon as they got well round behind the house the others halted, and knife in hand they crept through the trees, and then upon their hands and knees crawled forward. The others listened intently. The gabble of voices continued on the other side of the hut, and when a louder yell of laughter than usual broke out they saw a figure appear at one corner and look round, as if anxious to hear what was going on. Suddenly two arms appeared from the darkness behind him. He was grasped by the throat and disappeared suddenly from sight. Two minutes later Sam came through the trees. "Dat chile no gib de alarm, sah. Can go on now and cut him window." The carpenter and the man told off to assist him at once ran forward, accompanied by the girl and Nat, who went straight to the little window. He had told her that she must not speak, for her mother or sister might utter a sudden exclamation which would alarm the sentries on the other side. Putting his face to the window, he said in a low voice, "I pray you be silent, the slightest sound might cost you your lives. We are here to rescue you; your daughter is safe and sound with us. Now we are going to enlarge the window." Low exclamations of delight told him that he was heard. The carpenter at once set to work, the man with him oiling his saw very frequently; nevertheless it seemed to Nat to make even more noise than usual. Suddenly, however, one of the prisoners began to utter a prayer in a loud voice. "That is papa," the girl whispered; "he used to say prayers every night." "It was a very good idea to begin now," Nat said. "What with the row by the fires, and his voice inside, the guard are not likely to hear the saw." In ten minutes the window had been enlarged to a point sufficient for a full-sized person to get through. "Now, madam, will you come first," Nat said. "We will pull you through all right." One by one the captives were got out. There were still two men left when the door opened, and three or four negroes appeared with blazing brands. "We have come to fetch one of you out to give us a lillie fun. Bake 'im some ober de fire." Then he broke off with a shout of astonishment as he saw that the hut was almost untenanted, and he and the others were about to rush forward at the two men still there when Nat thrust his arm through the opening. Two shots cracked out, one after the other. The two leading negroes fell, and the others with a yell of terror rushed out of the hut. "Quick, for your lives!" he said to the two men, one of whom was already half through the window. "We shall have them all on us in a few minutes." In a few seconds the men were out, and Nat and the two seamen ran with them to the edge of the wood, to which the other captives had been passed on as soon as they were freed. By this time the air was ringing with yells and shouts. "Now, men, move along a little farther so as to get a view of the fire, and then we will give them a volley." The negroes were rushing forward, yelling and shouting, when twenty-five muskets rang out with deadly aim, for the blacks were not more than thirty yards away. "Load again, lads! that will sicken them for a bit," he shouted; and indeed the negroes with yells of astonishment and fear had run back, leaving some fourteen or fifteen of their number on the ground. "Are you all loaded?" "Ay, ay, sir." "Then down the hill you go. Have the three ladies gone on?" "Yes, sir; the two blacks went down with them." "Have the Frenchmen got their pikes? That is good; now keep as close as you can together. They are coming up by scores, and will make a rush in a minute or so." As fast as they could the sailors and the rescued men made their way down the hill, but owing to the thickness of the trees it was impossible to run. They had gone but a short distance when there was an outburst of yells round them, and, looking back, Nat saw a number of blazing brands. "You had better have kept in the dark," he muttered. "You would not have come so fast, but more of you would go back alive. Don't hurry, men," he said; "take it coolly. Take care of the trees. They are sure to come up to us, for they can see their way; but they won't be in such a hurry when we open fire again." They were half-way down the hill when he gave the order: "You four men next to me turn round and pick off some of those fellows with torches. The rest halt in case they make a rush." The four shots were fired one after the other. As many negroes fell. "Are you ready, lads? Four more fire!" The shots had an equal success. Many of the negroes at once took refuge behind trees. "That will do, men; on you go again! Don't make more noise than you can help. With all that yelling they won't be sure that we have moved." [Illustration: "FOUR SHOTS WERE FIRED AND AS MANY NEGROES FELL."] It was not, indeed, until they were down on the shore that the negroes again came up with them. Then they burst out at several points from the trees, being uncertain of the exact course the retreating party had taken. "Now, keep together in a body, men!" Nat shouted in English, and repeated the same order in French. "March steadily forward. We have got to fight our way through them." Now that the negroes saw how comparatively small was the number of their foes, they rushed upon them. "Don't throw away a shot!" Nat shouted. "Now, let them have it!" The men who had already fired had loaded again, and as the negroes came up, a crackling fire broke out from the little party. "Now, lads, at them with pistol, cutlass, and pike! We must get through these fellows ahead before others come up." With a loud cheer the sailors rushed upon the blacks, cutting and thrusting, the men who had been released fighting with desperate fury with their pikes, mad with the thirst for revenge for the horrible atrocities that they witnessed and the thought of the fate they had escaped. Pistols cracked out continually, and it was not long before the negroes lost heart; and the sailors, at Nat's order, flung themselves upon them and cut a way through. "Straight on now, men! Show them that you can run as well as fight. We shall have a hundred more of them down on us directly." There was no doubt of this; the yells that rose from the forest and the light of many brands showed that the whole of the negroes were hastening to join their comrades. Nat had previously begged the two officers and the quarter-master not to use their pistols, and he, with them, ran in the rear line. A few only of the negroes pressed closely behind them; the rest, dismayed by the slaughter that had taken place, awaited the arrival of their comrades. "Now, turn and let them have both barrels!" Nat said; and the four men, facing round, levelled their pistols, and six of the leading negroes fell, while the others halted at once. "Keep your other pistols," Nat said; "we shall want them at the gangway." There was a shout of satisfaction as the men in advance caught sight of the schooner. The two negroes had already placed the gangway in position, and had crossed it with the three ladies and Monsieur Pickard, who had accompanied them. "Over you go, men!" Nat shouted; "they are close behind us." Most of the men were across when a crowd of blacks came rushing along. Sam and Pomp had taken their station at the taffrail, and as the head of the mob came on their muskets flashed out, and the two leading men fell. Then they opened fire with their pistols, and at the same moment Nat and his three companions discharged their remaining pistols and then ran down the gangway, the sailors having by this time all passed over. The planks were at once pulled on board. "Now, unshackle the chain and round with the capstan!" Nat shouted. "The rest of you lie down behind the bulwarks." A moment later the chain was unshackled, and as the capstan rapidly revolved, the schooner's head receded from the shore. Yells of rage broke from the negroes, and a scattered fire of musketry was opened. "Now, Turnbull, do you and Lippincott each go to a gun, and when we are far enough off for them to bear on those rascals let them have it." A minute later the bow-gun was fired. It was too near for the shot to spread properly, but it cut a lane through the crowd, and half a minute later the second gun crashed out. By this time the sailors had all loaded their muskets again. "Now for a volley!" Nat shouted; "that will finish them; or I am mistaken." It was indeed decisive, and with yells of rage and pain the negroes darted into the forest behind them. As fast as the guns could be loaded, round after round of grape was fired among the trees. By this time the schooner was close to the kedge; this was hauled up and sail set, but the breeze was so light that the vessel scarcely moved through the water. The guns were again loaded with grape, and a keen watch was kept, as it was possible that the boats might not yet have arrived, having delayed putting off until it was thought that all on board would be asleep. In the meantime the wounds were examined. None of these was serious. Only a small proportion of the negroes were armed with muskets, and these being among the crowd had for the most part been unable to fire; consequently only one man had been hit in the arm by a ball, while six or eight had received gashes more or less deep from the knives and other weapons of the negroes. "Even if the boats have not been here," Nat said to Lippincott, "I don't think we shall have any trouble with them; they will have heard our guns, and, I dare say, the musketry firing, and will know that, now we are awake and on our guard, we should probably sink them before they reached us." Half an hour passed, and then, as they got beyond the shelter of the island, they caught a little breeze, and the schooner began to slip through the water. Nat called the men from the guns. "I don't think that we shall have any more fighting to-night," he said. "You have all done very well. We have certainly killed three times our own number, and we have successfully carried out the main object of our adventure. I have ordered the steward to serve out a good ration of rum all round, but I should advise you who have got wounds to keep your share for a few days." "It won't hurt us, sir," one old sailor said, and three or four other voices were raised in assent. "I did not suppose that my advice would be taken," Nat said with a laugh to Turnbull, "still, it was as well to give it; and I don't suppose that an extra allowance of grog will go far towards heating their blood." "Not it," the middy replied; "rum is cheap out here, and I don't suppose that half a bottle would be considered by them as an excessive drink. How are you going to stow our passengers away? Of course we will give up our cabins to the ladies." "I think the best plan will be for us to turn out altogether, Turnbull; there will be our three state-rooms for the ladies, and the father can sleep on the sofa of the main cabin. We will have a screen put up forward of the steward's cabin, and have cots slung for ourselves there. Of course we will take our meals with them aft. I don't think there are any spare hammocks, and the eight white men must make a shift to sleep on some old sails--it won't be for many days. Well, Sam, what is it?" "Supper am ready, sah." Leaving the quarter-master to take charge of the watch, they went below. They had not expected to see the ladies up, but they were all there. "Monsieur Pickard, I must introduce myself and my officers." "It needs no introductions, sir," the Frenchman, a tall, thin man some fifty years of age, said in a broken voice; "my daughter Louise has told me your names, and how good you have been to her. Ah, monsieur, no words can express our obligations to you all! It was not death we feared, but such a death. Even now we can scarce believe that this is all true, and that we have escaped from those fiends. In the name of my wife and my daughters and myself, I thank you with all my heart for what you have done for us. Little, indeed, did we think, when we helped Louise through that narrow window in order that she might warn you that you were going to be attacked, and with the hope that she might escape from the awful fate that awaited us there, that it would be the means of saving us all. We heard the negroes saying that the schooner was flying the British flag, but we had no idea that she was a vessel of war, thinking it was a small trader they were about to attack. But even had we known it, it would not have raised any hopes in our minds, for we should not have thought that, with so small a force as such a vessel could carry, her commander would think of attacking so great a number of men as, Louise would have told you, had us in their power." "We are only too glad to have an opportunity of being of service to you and your family, Monsieur Pickard. Indeed, had there been only these two officers and myself on board, I am sure that we should have made an attempt to release you; and should, I have no doubt, have succeeded in doing so without being discovered, as would have been the case to-night, had not they taken it into their heads to come into the hut just at that moment. And now, monsieur, for the sleeping arrangements. My cabin is at the service of madame, those of Mr. Turnbull and Mr. Lippincott, of the young ladies. We shall have cots slung for ourselves elsewhere; that sofa must serve for you, Monsieur Pickard. To-morrow, madame, we will place at your disposal whatever there is on board the ship for fabricating dresses for your daughters that will be less striking than that now worn by Mademoiselle Louise. We have a roll of white duck, from which, I have no doubt, they will be able to contrive a couple of white dresses." For the eldest girl, as well as Louise, was in boy's clothes, as the Pickards had fortunately had warning before the outbreak took place on their plantation, one of the men with them having overheard what was said at a meeting of the negroes, and in consequence they, the overseers, two white superintendents of the indigo works, a carpenter and mechanic, had during the night taken to the woods, Madame Pickard dressing her daughters in some clothes that they had in store, and which were cut down to fit them. "And now, ladies," Nat went on, "I know that you will above all things be longing for bed, but I hope that you will each take a basin of soup and a glass of wine before you turn in, you must need them sorely. The steward will get your cabins ready for you. I am sure that Mademoiselle Louise will set you a good example; she recovered her appetite as soon as she learned that we intended to get you out." CHAPTER XIII TWO CAPTURES The meal was a very short one, but the ladies, to please their rescuers, took a few spoonfuls of soup and a glass of wine. Madame Pickard and her elder daughter were too much worn out by anxiety and emotion to talk, Monsieur Pickard was no less moved, and the conversation was supported entirely by the three officers and Louise. The young men hurried through their meal, and then, saying good-night to the others, went up on deck. "Well, never did a thing turn out better," Nat said as he lit his pipe; "it is a tremendous satisfaction that we have not lost a single man in the affair." "And it is no less a satisfaction," Turnbull said, "that we have given a good many of those black brutes their deserts. It was a good fight for a bit." As they were smoking, the seven white men came up in a body. "We could not lie down, monsieur," one of them said, "till we had come to thank you for saving us from the most frightful deaths. We had given up all hopes even of obtaining a weapon and putting an end to ourselves, which we should certainly have done could we have got hold of a knife, after having been obliged to witness the tortures of two of our comrades. Had you been but ten minutes later another of us would have been their victim. Ah, monsieur! your voice, when you spoke at the window, seemed like that of an angel who had come to our relief." "How long had you been in the woods?" Nat asked. "Six weeks, monsieur, before the negroes found us. We had carried off some provisions with us, but these were all consumed, and we were obliged to go down to the plantation to search for food. We suppose that we were seen and followed, and the next night we were surrounded by the band you saw." "Well, we are all very glad to have got you out of their hands, and you rendered good service when the blacks came down on us." "We had our revenge to take," the man said, "and not one of us but would have fought until he was killed." "You have had something to eat, I hope?" "Yes, thank you, sir." "You had better turn in now. I don't suppose you have had much sleep of late." "Poor beggars," Turnbull said as the men walked away, "I wonder myself that they did not strangle each other, or hang themselves, or something. I am sure I should have done so rather than wait day after day till my turn came to be burnt alive, or to be cut to pieces gradually, or put to death by any other means of slow torture." "Yes, Turnbull, if one were quite sure that there was no possible hope of rescue or escape; but I suppose a man never does quite give up hope. This was an example, you see, of the unlikely happening." "What are you going to do next, Glover?" "I don't know, I have hardly thought it out yet. You see, we can manage with this lot we have on board without much difficulty, and I don't know that I should be justified in going round to Cape François on purpose to land them. So far we have not been able to bring any news of value, and at any rate I think we might as well cruise about here a little longer. There is one thing, if we should fall in with anyone bigger than ourselves and have to fight for it, those fellows who have just gone below will be a valuable addition to our strength. When it comes to a hand-to-hand fight seven stout fellows might turn the scale." "Yes, there is something in that, and I am glad you mean to keep them on board for a bit. I think the girls will be very good fun when they have a little got over what they have gone through. The young one is a jolly little thing, and her sister is very pretty, in spite of her short hair and boy's dress, though one had not much opportunity of forming an idea as to whether she had any fun in her." "I fancy it will be some time before she will feel inclined for a flirtation, Turnbull," Nat laughed. "What she has gone through, and what she has seen in the way of horrors, is enough to damp a girl's spirits for a very long time." In the morning the ladies did not appear at breakfast. "My wife is completely prostrated," Monsieur Pickard said, "and the two girls are shy and do not like showing themselves until they have made up a couple of dresses. Your steward gave them the roll of white cotton early this morning and needles and thread, and both are very hard at work. I hope you will excuse them, they will come out and have breakfast here after we have done. May I ask where we are sailing now?" "We are sailing east, monsieur. I hope that it will not inconvenience you to be a few days on board. My orders are to cruise up and down the coast, and I wish therefore to go east as far as the boundary between the French and Spanish portions of the island; after that I can go round into the bay of Hayti and land you at Port-au-Prince or Cape François, whichever you would prefer." "It will make no difference whatever to us, and indeed I am sure that a cruise on your beautiful little ship will be the very best thing for my wife and daughters. They will have perfect rest and sea air, and it will not be necessary for them to tell over and over again the stories of their sufferings; but I lament that we should be putting you to such personal inconvenience." "I can assure you, monsieur, that you are putting us to no inconvenience whatever. We sleep just as well in our cots as in our berths, and the society of the ladies and yourself will be a very great pleasure to us, for as a rule we have very small opportunity in that way." "You speak our language very fluently, Monsieur Glover." "I am afraid that I speak it more fluently than grammatically. I had the opportunity of picking it up by ear last year, when I was staying for six weeks at the house of Monsieur Duchesne at Cape François." "We know him well, and his charming wife and daughter," Monsieur Pickard said, "for we have a house there, and generally go there for three months every winter. Can it be that you are the officer who saved their daughter's life, when she was attacked by a fierce hound?" "Yes, I had that good fortune." "I fear that they have fallen in this terrible insurrection. We have had no direct news from Cape François, but we heard that in their district all the plantations have been destroyed and the owners murdered." "I am happy to be able to tell you that they were saved. I was staying there at the time when the revolt broke out We were warned just in time by an old nurse, Dinah." "I remember her," Monsieur Pickard broke in, "a tall old woman." "Yes, Monsieur Duchesne himself was in town, and madame, Myra, and I had just time to gain the forest. There we were joined by Dinah, who did everything for us. Madame was attacked by fever, but fortunately Dinah knew of a very safe place of refuge. She did everything for us, fetched up provisions, concocted medicine, and after being ten days in hiding, we were able to get them down to the town." Both the midshipmen had a fair knowledge of French, though they were not able to speak it with Nat's ease and fluency. When the latter had finished, Turnbull broke in: "Mr. Glover does not tell you, monsieur, that the cave they were in was attacked by six negroes, led by two mulattoes, and he shot them all, nor that he and the nurse carried Madame Duchesne down in a litter some twenty miles to the town, although he had one of his ribs broken by a pistol shot." "What is the use of talking about that?" Nat said angrily. "The thing was done and there was an end of it. There has been a lot too much said about it as it is." Monsieur Pickard smiled. "Monsieur Glover is like my daughters at present, he is shy. He should not be so. It is right that we, his friends,--for we are his friends, now and for the rest of our lives,--should know what he is. Ah, my wife and the girls will be pleased indeed to hear that their friends have escaped! They have often said how sorry they were that they had not seen the young officer who rescued their friend Myra from the dog. It is strange indeed that he should afterwards have saved her and her mother from the negroes, and should now have so rescued us." That evening the girls appeared on deck in snowy-white dresses, simply made, but fitting admirably. "We have always been accustomed to cut out our own dresses," Valerie said, laughing, when Nat complimented her on the work. "The slaves did the sewing, but we fitted each other. Of course at Cape François we had our dresses made for us, but on the plantation we were obliged to trust to ourselves." One morning, three days later, as they were at breakfast, Nat stopped as he was raising a cup to his lips. "That is a gun!" he exclaimed. "There is another!" and with the two middies he ran up on deck. "There is a fight going on somewhere," he said as the sound of firing was again heard. "It must be six or seven miles away, somewhere beyond that headland. At any rate we will hold on and have a look at them. With this light wind it will take us from an hour and a half to two hours before we are up with them, so we may as well finish our breakfast in comfort." "What is it, Monsieur Glover! Are those noises really the sound of guns?" "There is no doubt about it. There is a fight going on seven or eight miles away. We should hear the sound more plainly were it not that there is a headland between us and the vessels engaged." "Who can they be?" Madame Pickard said. "A pirate and a merchantman, no doubt. None of the European nations are at war, but the seas swarm with piratical craft of one kind or another. The small ones content themselves with plundering native coasting vessels, the larger ones attack ships from or to Europe. The _Orpheus_, to which I belonged at that time, last year rooted out one of their worst nests. They had no fewer than four ships. We were lucky enough to catch one of them, and learned where the rendezvous was, and fortunately found the other three at home, and destroyed them and their storehouses." "Are you going on in that direction now?" Valerie asked. "Yes, we are going to have a look at them. If the trader is making a good fight of it, our arrival may turn the scale; if we arrive too late and find the enemy too big for us, we can run away; in a light wind like this there are very few vessels that could catch us. It is probable that we should not interfere were it not for the possibility that we may be in time to save some of the passengers and crew of the merchantman. She must be a vessel of some size, judging from the sound of her guns. Even if she has surrendered before we get there, and we find that we are in any way a match for the pirate, we might, after defeating her, save at least some of the captives. As a rule, these scoundrels, when all opposition has ceased, confine the prisoners in the hold, and after emptying the prize of everything valuable, scuttle her, and of course drown all on board. In that way all traces of their crime are lost, whereas if they killed them some of the bodies might float inshore, or if they burnt the ship the smoke might bring down any cruiser that happened to be in the neighborhood. "I am sorry that you are on board, ladies." "Oh, do not think of us!" Madame Pickard exclaimed. "After the wonderful deliverance that we have had, I am sure that none of us would mind any risk if there is a chance of saving others in as dire peril as we were." The two girls and Monsieur Pickard warmly agreed. "Please put us altogether out of consideration," the latter said. "Even if we knew that it was probable we should all lose our lives we should not hesitate. We are not, I hope, any of us, afraid of death. It was the kind of death that we were terrified at." "I thank you all," Nat said gravely. "I shall not fight unless I think that there is at any rate a fair chance of victory." On going on deck when breakfast was finished, Nat ordered the magazine to be opened and ammunition brought up. The wind had freshened a little, and the schooner was going faster through the water; and in three quarters of an hour after hearing the first gun they neared the promontory. "I am afraid it is all over," Nat said to the ladies, who had also come on deck; "there has not been a gun fired for the past two or three minutes. However, we shall soon see." On rounding the point they saw two vessels lying side by side, a mile and a half distant, and about a mile from shore. One was a barque, evidently a large merchantman; the other a brigantine. There was no question that the latter was a pirate, and the other her prize. The sailors, after a glance at them, turned their eyes anxiously towards Nat for orders. The latter stood quietly examining the ships through his glass. "She mounts five guns a side, and I should say that they are about the same weight as our own," he said to Turnbull; "and from the men swarming on her deck and that of her prize she must have nearly, if not quite, three times our strength, even counting the Frenchmen in." "She is too big to fight squarely, sir," Turnbull reluctantly agreed. "I am afraid she is altogether too tough a customer for us; and yet one hates the thought of leaving them to complete their devil's work on their prize." "Yes, we can't think of doing that, Mr. Turnbull. The first thing to do will be to draw them off from her." "But they would be sure to leave some of their men in possession of her." "Well, if they do, there will be so many the fewer for us to fight. We are within a mile now, I should say?" "Yes, sir." "Then train the two forward guns on them, and let them see that we mean fighting." A cheer broke from the sailors clustered round the guns as Turnbull gave the order. "Now, ladies," Nat said, "you can stop to see the effect of our first shot, and then I must ask you to go down on to the lower deck. Sam will show you the way and take some cushions down for you; you will be out of danger there." As he spoke, the two guns which were already loaded were fired, and the men gave a cheer as two white patches appeared on the side of the brigantine. "Please hurry down, ladies," Nat said, checking the entreaty which he saw they were going to make. "It won't be long before they answer us." "Give them another round, lads!" he said, as they reluctantly obeyed his orders. "Get them in if you can before he is ready." Busy as they were, the pirates had not observed the schooner until her guns were fired. With shouts of alarm they ran back to their own ship, but these were succeeded by exclamations of anger and surprise when they saw how small was the craft that had thus intruded into the affair. By the captain's orders twenty of the crew, under his first mate, returned to the deck of the prize; a portion of the men ran to the guns, others threw off the grapnels fastening them to the prize. Before they were ready to fire, two more shots from the schooner crashed into the brigantine, one passing through the bulwarks, killing three men and wounding several others with the splinters. The other struck her within a few inches of the water-line. The schooner at once bore up, discharging the guns on the starboard side as she came round, and laying her course as close to the wind as she could be jammed, showed her stern to the pirate. Two of his guns forward were fired, others could not be brought to bear. The Arrow was now almost retracing her course, for the wind was west-nor'-west, and she could just follow the line of coast. "Here they come after us!" Turnbull said, rubbing his hands, "as savage as bees whose hive has been disturbed." "Now, Mr. Turnbull, get the two guns right aft, so as to fire over the taffrail. We must see if we cannot knock some of her spars away. As soon as you have moved the guns let all hands, except those serving them, go forward and lie down there. The weight of the guns will put her rather by the stern, and I don't want to let that fellow come any nearer to us. She is in her best trim now." As soon as the guns were ready they opened fire. The brigantine answered with her bow-chaser, but, as she was obliged to yaw each time she brought it to bear, she presently ceased firing. "We are gaining on her, sir," Lippincott said, as he watched the pirate through his glass. "Yes, and sailing fully a point nearer to the wind than she does. Get a stay-sail fastened to a rope, and drop it over close to the bow. I don't want to run away from her. If she found that we were too fast for her she would give up the chase, and go back to the prize. I want her to gain just enough to encourage her to keep on. She is a fast craft, but we are faster. We shall be able to manage her, providing she does not knock away any of our spars." The start the schooner had made had at first widened the distance between them, and there was now a mile and a quarter of water separating them. The brigantine was hulled several times and her sails pierced, but her spars were still intact. She was permitted to gain until she was little more than half a mile astern, but the schooner had weathered on her, and was now nearly half a mile to windward. "If we had an open sea on this side instead of the land," Turnbull said, "and were to cut away that sail, they would not see us again." "No; they must have come to the same conclusion. As it is, they no doubt think that our clawing out to windward is of no advantage to us. Now, get another gun over to the larboard side. It is lucky that there is a spare port there. We must make an effort to knock one of his spars out, or he may cripple us." For by this time the brigantine had again opened fire. "Let the three best shots we have got lay the guns on her mainmast. Tell them to train them rather high, so that if they miss the mark they may cut one of the halyards, which will give us all the start we want." The guns were run into their position on the broadside. "Don't hurry over it," Nat said; "let each fire as his gun comes to bear." There was a crash and a cry as he spoke; a ball had gone through the Arrow from side to side, tearing jagged holes through her bulwarks, one of the sailors being struck to the deck by a splinter. No one spoke, every eye being fixed on the guns. These were fired almost together. There was a pause for a second or two, and then a burst of cheering as the gaff of the great mainsail of the brigantine was seen to collapse. "It is hit close to the jaws," Turnbull, whose glass was levelled on the pirates, exclaimed. "Cut away that sail in the water!" Nat shouted. "Up with your helm, men, and bring her round. That is right," he went on as the schooner came up into the wind and payed off on the other tack. "Now, slack away her sheets!" Three guns were vengefully fired by the pirate, but the sudden change in the schooner's position disconcerted their aim, and the shot flew wide. Without waiting for orders, the seamen at two of the guns ran them over to the starboard side, and, all working at the highest pressure, poured shot after shot into the brigantine, which answered but slowly, as numbers of the men had run aloft to get the sail down to repair damages. Before she was under way again the schooner had left her a mile behind. She was now on her best point of sailing, while the brigantine was to some extent crippled by the mainsail setting badly, and by the time the headland was again passed the schooner was fully two miles ahead. Her crew had for some time been puzzled at the action being so abruptly concluded, and Turnbull had even ventured to say: "I should think, sir, we should have a fair chance with her now." "Not a very good chance. We have been lucky, but with ten guns to our four, and her strong crew of desperate men, she would be a very awkward customer. We can think of her later on. My plan is to retake the prize before she can come up. It is not likely that they have killed the crew yet, and I expect the captain told those left behind to leave things as they were until he returned. We may scarcely be a match for the brigantine, but the prize and we together should be able to give a good account of ourselves." "Splendid, sir!" Turnbull exclaimed joyously; "that is a grand idea." "Have the guns loaded with grape," Nat said quietly, "and run two of them over to the other side. We will go outside the prize, bring our craft up into the wind, and shoot her up inside her, and give them one broadside and then board. Tell the men to have their pistols and cutlasses ready, and distribute the boarding-pikes among the Frenchmen." As soon as they rounded the point they could see by their glasses that there was a sudden commotion on the deck of the merchantman. "They did not expect to see us back first," Lippincott laughed. "Even now, I should think, they are expecting to see the brigantine close behind us in chase, and don't suspect what we are up to. Don't head straight for her," he said to the helmsman, "take us a couple of lengths outside her." The pirates, indeed, were completely deceived, but when at last they saw that the brigantine did not appear, they ran over to the guns. It was, however, too late. Two or three of these were discharged as the schooner passed, but beyond making holes in her sails no damage was done, and one of the schooner's guns poured in a volley of grape. When she was two or three lengths ahead her helm was put hard down. She flew round and just caught the wind on the other tack, gliding up alongside the merchantman, the three guns being discharged in succession as the two vessels touched. The grapnels were thrown, and the sailors and Frenchmen leapt on to her deck headed by the three officers. Nearly half the pirates had been killed or wounded by the four discharges of grape. The remainder made but a poor fight of it, and were cut down to a man. "Off with the hatches, men!" Nat shouted. "Run down and release the crew." He himself ran aft into the saloon. Here six gentlemen and eight or ten ladies were lying bound hand and foot. Several of the men were wounded. Nat at once cut the cords. [Illustration: "THE CAPTAIN OF THE PIRATES SHOOK HIS FIST IN DEFIANCE."] "You are safe," he said. "The ship has been retaken by his majesty's schooner _Arrow_, but we have not done with the brigantine yet, and any of you who have weapons and can use them may lend a hand." Without waiting to listen to the chorus of cries of gratitude, he ran out again. A minute later a number of seamen poured up on deck. Many of them were wounded. "How many are there of you?" he asked an officer among them. "There are thirty of us," he said; "we had lost nearly half our crew before they boarded us. The captain was killed early in the fight, as was the first officer." "Well, sir, set your men to load the guns at once. There is the brigantine just coming round the point. Monsieur Pickard, will you remain here with your party and help the sailors? Get your sails sheeted home, sir!" he went on to the ship's officer. "Is your vessel a fast one?" "Yes, but she is not so fast as that brigantine." "That is of no consequence," Nat said. "Get every sail you can on her. Now get twenty of our men on board again, Mr. Lippincott, and on second thoughts I will take five of the Frenchmen. Mr. Turnbull, you will remain on board in command of this ship with the other five of our men. My endeavour will be to knock away one of her masts. Do you keep as close as you can to us, and we will board her together, one on each side. If she knocks away one of our spars, I shall as far as possible come back to meet you, and if she follows us we will fight her together." "I understand, sir." "The moment we push off, get your head sails aback and put her on the wind so as to get out of our way. I shall fill her off on the other tack and then come round and join you. We will keep together until we see whether she means to fight or run. Remember, the great thing is to knock a spar out of her." So saying, he leapt on to the deck of the schooner, and Turnbull's voice was at once heard shouting the order, "Haul aft the weather sheets of the jibs;" and in a minute the two vessels were gliding away from each other on opposite tacks. Then the _Arrow_ was brought round and followed the _Thames_, which was the name of the merchantman. The brigantine was now three quarters of a mile away. Suddenly she was seen to change her course. As she wore round she presented her broadside to the two vessels, and her five guns puffed out together. The reply, both from the merchantman and the _Arrow_, followed almost simultaneously, and a cheer rang out from both ships as the pirate's bowsprit was seen to snap off. "Place yourself two or three cables' length from his larboard quarter," Nat shouted. Turnbull, who had leapt on to the rail to see the result of the broadside, waved his hand. "Down topsails!" Nat shouted, "she will be handier without them." In a moment the two great sails came fluttering down. Turnbull followed the example, and the men ran up the ratlines and furled some of the upper sails. Deprived of her head sails, the pirate was unmanageable, and the two vessels speedily ran up and laid themselves a couple of hundred yards from his quarters and opened a steady fire. The pirates endeavoured to drag two of their guns right aft, but the volleys of grape poured into them were too much for them, and although their captain was seen to shoot two of the men, the rest ran forward. The helmsman deserted his now useless post. "Give her one more broadside," Nat shouted to Turnbull, "and then run in and board." The captain of the pirates, mad with rage, leapt on to the taffrail and shook his fist in defiance. At that moment two rifles cracked out from the merchantman, and he fell forward into the sea. The effect of the storm of grape from the three guns of the schooner, and the four from the trader, among the men huddled up in the bow of the pirate was terrible, but knowing that their lives were forfeited if they were taken prisoners, none made a movement aft to haul down the black flag that still floated from the peak. In two or three minutes their antagonists were alongside; a volley of musketry was poured in, and then the crews of both ships leapt on to the deck. The pirates, who were now reduced to about thirty men, rushed to meet them, determining to sell their lives dearly. But the odds were against them; they missed the voice of their captain to encourage them, and when twenty of their number had fallen, the remainder threw down their arms. "Let no man stir a foot to go below," Nat shouted, remembering the explosion in the pirate's hold, and fearing that one of them might make straight for the magazine. He had not used his pistols in the fight, and now stood with one in each hand pointing threateningly to enforce the order. "Mr. Lippincott, take four men below and close and securely fasten the magazine." The middy ran down, and returned in two or three minutes to report that he had executed the order. "Tie those fellows' feet and hands," Nat said, "and carry them down into the hold." When this was done he was able to look round. The deck was a perfect shambles. The brigantine, as he afterwards heard, carried originally eighty hands. Ten of these had been either killed or seriously wounded in the fight with the _Thames_, and twenty had been killed on board that barque when she was retaken. Forty lay dead or dying on the deck. One of the Frenchmen had fallen, six of the sailors and three Frenchmen had been severely wounded, Turnbull somewhat seriously wounded, and Lippincott slightly. Monsieur Pickard, and the male passengers on board the _Thames_, had all joined the boarders. Two of them had previously done good service with their rifles. Had not the pirate leader been killed, the fight would have been even more desperate. One of the passengers was, fortunately, a surgeon. He at once set to work attending to the sailors' wounds, and after he had bandaged them he examined those of the pirates. These had for the most part been killed outright, and of the wounded there were but four or five with any prospect of recovery. These he first attended to, while the other passengers carried water to the dying men. "Now, my lads," Nat said, "clear the decks of the dead, and get up an awning and carry those who are alive into the shade." All the dead pirates were thrown over without ceremony, the body of the Frenchman being laid down by his compatriots by one of the guns for proper burial in the evening. As soon as the fight was over, Monsieur Pickard--who, after the capture of the _Thames_, had gone below to assure his wife and daughters that all was going on well, and that they had saved nine ladies and six gentlemen from the hands of the pirates--hurried down with the welcome news that the fight was over and the brigantine captured. "You can go up to the cabin," he said, "but don't come on deck till I come down and tell you that everything has been made clean and tidy. You will be glad to hear that, although we have several wounded, François Amond is the only man that has been killed." One of the passengers of the _Thames_ had carried similar news to the ladies there. The crews of both were at once set to work to wash decks, and in an hour the holy-stones had obliterated the worst signs of the conflict, though it would require many more scrubbings before the stains of blood entirely disappeared. All this time the vessels had remained side by side, and the ladies now ventured on to the decks of the _Thames_ and _Arrow_. "What do you intend to do, sir?" one of the passengers asked Nat. "I shall sail at once for Jamaica," he said. "We shall want some more hands, and I must at present borrow a few from you, for my own men are not sufficiently strong to navigate my own craft and the prize. The wind is favourable, and if it holds as it is we shall be at Kingston in forty-eight hours, so there will be no great loss of time." He then crossed to the _Arrow_. "I must congratulate you most heartily on your success," Madame Pickard said. "It is wonderful indeed that you should have taken both these vessels. The pirate ship is, I should think, three times as big as you are, and the other looks a giant by her side." "Yes, she is six hundred tons, and the brigantine is about three hundred. However, it has all gone very fortunately. In the first place, we have rescued some fifteen gentlemen and ladies, and twice as many seamen, from the death that they would certainly have met with; and in the next place, we have thrashed this pirate; we shall get both credit and prize-money, and a good sum for the recapture of the _Thames_, which the chief officer has just told me carries a very valuable cargo. Lastly, I am happy to say that, although several of the crew are injured, I have not lost a single life among them. I am sorry that one of your men fell in the fight." "But they have sadly spoiled the appearance of your ship," Valerie Pickard said. "There are three or four great holes along the side, and a ball has gone through your cabin, and the sails, which were so white and pretty, have lots of holes in them." "Yes, we shall want a good many new cloths," he said; "but that is a very minor matter." "Monsieur Turnbull is hurt, I hear!" "Yes, madame; happily it is not very serious--a blow which he only partly parried struck him on the shoulder. It looks a very serious wound, but the doctor says there is no need for any great uneasiness about him; and being seriously wounded in action has its advantages, as it always counts towards promotion. Mr. Lippincott has had one of his ears nearly slashed off, and is not pretty to look at at present, with his head done up in bandages, but the surgeon thinks that, as it was attended to so soon, it is likely that it will heal up." "And you have escaped altogether, Monsieur Glover?" Louise said. "Yes, for once I have had good luck. Hitherto I have always come out of a fight more or less damaged; this time I have escaped without a scratch." "I should feel very proud if I were you," the girl said, "at having done so much with such a small ship--and you so young, too! Why, you do not look more than a year or two older than Valerie, and you have rescued us and all the people on the other ship, and taken a pirate and the vessel they had captured. It seems almost impossible. And you look so quiet and nice, too." "Louise, you should not talk like that," her mother corrected. Nat said gravely: "Mademoiselle, do you know that you are talking to the commander of one of his majesty's ships on his own quarter-deck, where he is, as it were, the monarch of all he surveys, and might inflict all sorts of terrible punishments upon you for your want of respect?" The girl laughed merrily. "I am not afraid," she said, "not one little bit, and I don't see why you should mind being told that you are young and quiet-looking and nice, when you are." "I do not mind in the least," he said, "and certainly I am young; but I can assure you that my former captain would not tell you that I was quiet, for I had the reputation of being the most troublesome middy on board his frigate. But, you see, responsibility has sobered me, and I can assure you that there is a great deal of responsibility in commanding a small craft like this, which has nothing but her speed and her luck to rely on if she happens to fall in with a strongly-armed vessel." "How can you say that, monsieur," Valerie said indignantly, "when you have taken this pirate, which is ever so much stronger than you are?" "There may be a little good management in it, but more luck, mademoiselle. If one of his shot had damaged me instead of one of mine damaging him, we should all have had our throats cut two hours ago." "I don't believe it," she said. "I believe that you would have beaten him anyhow." "Ladies very often think what they wish," he said with a laugh, "and no doubt we should have fought to the last; but I can assure you that we should have had no chance with them, and the best I could have done for you would have been to have fired the last shot of my pistol into the magazine." "Please don't talk about it," Madame Pickard said with a shudder. "And now I suppose that you have had fighting enough, and are going to carry us quietly into port?" "Yes, madame, to Jamaica; but if you would prefer to be landed at Cape François or Port-au-Prince I shall be happy to give you a passage back again." "We do not want to go there at all, but my husband will go to wind up his affairs, and sell his house there. We have been talking it over, and agree that we should never like to go back to the estate again. Even if things did quiet down the memories are too terrible; and, besides, having once broken out, the blacks might do so again at any time." "I think you are perfectly right, madame; but I am afraid you will not get much for your estate." "My husband thinks that, although no white man would buy it, there are plenty of mulattoes who would give, not its real value, but a certain amount, for it. Many of them are rich men who have already large plantations. Ours was one of the most valuable on the island, and with the title from us a purchaser would not be afraid of being disturbed when the soldiers arrive and put down the insurrection; while, even if this should never be done, the negroes, with whom the mulattoes are now friends, would not interfere with him. My husband thinks that perhaps he will get a third of its value, which would be sufficient to keep us all comfortably in France, or wherever we may settle; but our best resource is that we have the whole of last season's produce stored in our magazines at Port-au-Prince." It was not until the next afternoon that the absolutely necessary repairs to the three vessels were completed, the holes near the water-line covered by planks over which pitched canvas was nailed, the ropes shot away replaced by new ones, and the brigantine's gaff repaired. Then sail was hoisted again, and the three vessels set sail for Kingston, where they arrived on the evening of the third day after starting. No little excitement was caused in the harbour when the _Arrow_, with her sails and sides bearing marks of the engagement, sailed in, followed by the brigantine flying the British ensign over the black flag, and the _Thames_ with the same flags, but with the addition of the merchant ensign under the black flag, following her. There were two or three ships of war in the port, and the crews saluted the _Arrow_ with hearty cheers. The flag-ship at once ran up the signal for her commander to come on board, and, leaving Lippincott to see to the operation of anchoring, Nat ordered the gig to be lowered, and, taking his place in it, was rowed to the flag-ship. CHAPTER XIV THE ATTACK ON PORT-AU-PRINCE On mounting to the deck Nat was at once taken to the admiral's cabin. "So you have been disobeying orders, Lieutenant Glover," he said gravely. "I hope not, sir. I am not conscious of disobeying orders." "I fancy you were directed not to engage more heavily-armed craft than your own." "I was, sir, but the circumstances were peculiar." "I never knew a midshipman or a young lieutenant, Mr. Glover, who did not find the circumstances peculiar when he wanted to disobey orders. However," he added with a smile, "let me hear the peculiar circumstances, then I shall be able to judge how far you were justified. Give them in full. Have you a written report?" "Yes, sir, I have brought it with me," Nat said, producing the document. "Well, lay it down on the table. I don't suppose it is very full, and I am somewhat curious to hear how you brought in a pirate brigantine and a recaptured merchantman--so I understood your flags." Nat related how he had heard the sound of guns on rounding a headland, and had seen the brigantine lying by the side of the barque she had evidently just captured; how he drew her off in pursuit of the schooner, partially crippled her, returned and retook the _Thames_, released her crew, placed Mr. Turnbull in command, and how, between them, they had captured the brigantine. "A very smart action," the admiral said cordially when he had brought the narrative to a conclusion. "It does you very great credit, and fully justifies my appointing you to an independent command. What metal does the brigantine carry?" "Five guns each side, all twelve-pounders like my own." "And you have only four?" "Yes, sir." "Very good indeed, very good! By the way, do you know any of the passengers on board the _Thames_ personally? I observed three ladies on the deck as you came in. I should have thought that they would have had very much better accommodation on the trader than on board your little craft." "Yes, sir; but they were on board the _Arrow_ before our fight with the brigantine, and although the first mate of the _Thames_ offered them a state cabin they preferred to stay on board, as it was such a short run here." "Who are they, then?" "They are refugees, sir. I got them out of the hands of the negroes--three ladies, the husband of the elder one, and seven other white men." "Is there any story attached to it, Mr. Glover? Let me see, what do you say about it in your report?" and he opened it and read aloud: _I have the honour, sir, to report that, learning there was a white family in the hands of the negroes, I landed with a party and brought them off. They consisted of Monsieur and Madame Pickard and their two daughters, and seven of their white employees. Casualties--eight seamen wounded, none of them seriously._ "Then comes the account of the other affair. Now, please give me the details of this rescue business as minutely as possible." This Nat did. "A very risky business, Mr. Glover, though I don't see how you could have acted in any other way. No British officer, I hope, could have been deaf to such an appeal; but if those boats had found the schooner when you all were away, your position would have been well-nigh desperate." "It would, sir, I quite felt that, but it seemed to me the only possible thing to do. Of course, if I had known that the boats would have come early in the evening, I should have remained on board and beat them off before making a landing, although our chances of success would then have been much smaller. The party who were to attack in the boats were to have been composed of men from the plantation. Their comrades would doubtless have come down to the shore to see us captured, and when they saw their friends beaten off they would have been on the watch, and not improbably, in their fury and disappointment, have massacred all the captives in their hands at once. But I thought it likely that the boats would not put off before they believed us to be asleep, and that I should therefore have time to go up to the plantation and fetch the captives down before they arrived. At any rate, by moving the schooner close inshore I hoped that the boats might not find her. There was no moon, and under the shadow of the rock it was next to impossible to see her, unless a boat happened to pass within a few paces. Having struck the topmasts, the forest behind on steep ground prevented the masts from showing above the sky-line. It was, of course, the choice of two evils, and I took the one that seemed to me to give the greater promise of success." "You did excellently, the oldest officer in the service could not have done better. I shall be obliged if you will write as full and detailed an account of both affairs as you have given me. I shall send it home with your official report, and with my own remarks upon them. And now about the merchantman; she looks a fine barque. What is her tonnage?" "Six hundred tons, sir. She is a nearly new vessel, and sails fast for a ship of that kind. Her first mate told me that she has a very valuable cargo on board, principally, I think, tobacco, sugar, coffee, wax, copper, mahogany, and cedar from Cuba. Her passengers are all Spanish." "She seems to be a valuable prize, and as recaptured from the pirates there will be a handsome sum to be divided, and it is fortunate for you and your officers that the little craft was commissioned independently, not as a tender to one of the frigates. As it is, except the flag's share, it will all fall to yourselves and your crew. How many men have you lost?" "None at all, sir; though, as you will see by my report, in the two affairs the greater part of them received more or less severe wounds. Mr. Turnbull was somewhat severely wounded, Mr. Lippincott nearly lost an ear, and I escaped altogether." "Well, it was your turn, Lieutenant Glover. You have come back three times more or less severely hurt already. You say that the brigantine is fast?" "Yes, sir. She is not so fast as the schooner in a light wind, nor so weatherly, but in anything like strong winds I have no doubt that she would overhaul us." "Was there anything in her hold?" "There are a good many bales and cases, sir. I have not opened them, but by their marks they come from three different ships, which she had no doubt captured and sunk before we fell in with her. I questioned one of the prisoners, and he told me that it was only a month since she came out, and he declared that they had not yet chosen any place as their head-quarters. As others questioned separately told the same story, I imagine that it was true." "Where did she hail from?" "She came from Bordeaux. They said that she had taken out letters of marque to act as a privateer in case of war breaking out with us, but I fancy that she was from the first intended for a pirate, for it seems that she had only forty hands when she started, and picked up the others at various French ports at which she touched before sailing west. I should say, from the appearance of her crew, that they are composed of the sweepings of the ports, for a more villainous set of rascals I never saw." "Well, it is fortunate that you should have stopped their career so soon. She might have given us a great deal of trouble before we laid hands on her. We have had comparatively quiet times since the _Orpheus_ destroyed that nest of them, and if she had confined her work to homeward-bound ships it might have been months before we had complaints from home, and found that there was another of these scourges among the islands. I shall row around presently, Mr. Glover, and have a look at your two prizes. When you see my gig coming I shall be obliged if you will meet me on the deck of the brigantine." At four o'clock in the afternoon the watch on deck reported that the admiral's gig was being lowered, and Nat immediately got into his own boat and was rowed to the brigantine, whose name was the _Agile_. When the admiral approached, instead of making straight for the accommodation ladder, he rowed slowly round the vessel, making a very careful examination of the hull. When he came on deck, he said: "Except for a few shot that hit her low down, and the general destruction of her bulwarks, no damage has been done to her." "No, sir, we aimed high, our great object being to knock away some of her spars. I don't think that her square sails will be of any use in the future, they are riddled with balls from our stern-chasers." "A new gaff and bowsprit, a new suit of sails, new bulwarks, and a few patches, and she would be as good as ever. What damage have you suffered?" "The schooner has half a dozen holes in her bow, sir, and a dozen or so in her sails, nothing that the dockyard could not set right in a fortnight." He then went below. "Excellent accommodation," he said, after going round, "that is for a fair crew, but she must have been crowded indeed with eighty men. What should you consider to be a fair crew for her, Mr. Glover?" "Twenty men, sir, if she were a simple trader; I should say from thirty-five to forty would be none too much if she were going to fight her guns." "Now we will have a look at your craft. You may as well take a seat in my gig. Yes," he went on, as he rowed round her as he had done with the brigantine, "now that the sails are furled she does not seem any the worse for it, except in the bow and those two holes in the bulwarks." Monsieur Pickard and the ladies were seated on the deck, and rose as the admiral came on board. "Please introduce me to your friends, Mr. Glover." Nat did so, and the admiral shook hands with them all. "I think I may congratulate you on your escape from a very terrible position." "Yes, indeed," Madame Pickard said. "No words can express the gratitude we feel to Monsieur Glover, his two officers, and the crew. Our position seemed hopeless, the most terrible of deaths and the worst of atrocities stared us in the face." "I have heard all about it, madame, and consider that Lieutenant Glover managed the whole business with great discretion as well as bravery. He has a bad habit of getting into scrapes, but an equally good one of getting out of them with credit to himself. This is the third time he has rendered signal services to ladies in distress, and I suppose I should add that he has in addition saved the lives of the ladies on board the barque lying astern. If there were a medal for that sort of thing he would assuredly deserve it. He ought to have been born six or seven hundred years ago, he would have made a delightful knight-errant. "What are the ladies like in the other ship, Mr. Glover?" "I have no idea, sir. I only saw them for a moment when I ran into the cabin and cut their bonds. I have only seen the gentlemen for a minute or two when they joined the boarders from the _Thames_ under Mr. Turnbull, and I was much too busy to notice them." "Have you not gone on board since?" "No, sir, I had nothing to go on board for, and I don't speak any Spanish." "We tried to persuade him, Monsieur l'Amiral," Valerie said, "but monsieur is modest, he has never let us thank him yet; and although he pretended that he only kept ahead of the other two because his ship was a faster sailer, it was really because he did not wish to be thanked." "But other people are modest too," the admiral said with a smile. "I have heard of two young ladies who came on board, and who would not stir out of their cabins until they had made themselves new dresses." The two girls both coloured up at the allusion, and Monsieur Pickard laughed. "Now I will go below, Mr. Glover. She is very small by the side of the brigantine," he said, as he completed his visit of inspection. "I am not surprised that the pirates chased you after your impudence in firing at them, and that they thought they could eat you at a mouthful. Now, we will pay a visit to the barque." To Nat's great relief, he found that the passengers had all gone ashore. It was certain that they would be detained for some little time, as there would be legal formalities to be gone through, and repairs to be executed, and additional hands to be obtained; and, all feeling terribly shaken by the events that had taken place on board, and the loss in some cases of near relations, they had been glad to land until the ship was again ready for sea. The mate in charge handed to the admiral the ship's manifest and papers. "You have no seriously wounded on board?" the latter asked him. "Because if so, I should advise you to send them ashore to the hospital at once." "No, sir. All who fell on the deck were thrown overboard by the pirates as soon as they obtained possession of the ship. I believe that they fastened shot to their feet to make them sink at once." The admiral nodded. "That is likely enough. Dead bodies drifting ashore might cause inquiries to be made; their intention no doubt was to take all the most valuable part of the cargo out of the ship, and then to scuttle her with all on board." "Are we likely to be detained here long, sir?" "Not as far as we are concerned. We shall require you to sign in the presence of a magistrate here a formal document acknowledging that the vessel was absolutely captured, and in possession of the pirates, and that she was recaptured by his majesty's schooner the _Arrow_, and to sign a bond on behalf of the owners to pay the legal proportion of the value of the ship and cargo to the admiralty prize court in London. You will, of course, take her home yourself, but I shall send a naval officer with you, as the ship and its contents remain the property of government until the charges upon her are acquitted. If we were at war with France we should retain her here until she could sail under convoy of a vessel of war homeward-bound, but there is no occasion for doing that now. I do not suppose that you will find much difficulty in obtaining mates and enough sailors to make up your complement here. Scarcely a ship sails from the port without some of her men being left behind, either as deserters or through having been too drunk to rejoin. At any rate you had better be careful whom you pick, and if you should find a difficulty in obtaining men whose discharge-books show that they have hitherto borne a good character, I should advise you to ship eight or ten stout negroes. They are good hands at managing their own craft, and although they might not be of much use aloft, they are as a rule thoroughly trustworthy fellows, and quite as good for work on deck as our own men. I will give you an order on the dockyard for any repairs that you cannot get executed elsewhere. They will of course be charged for, but need not be paid for here, as they will go down in the account against the ship." Fortunately the dockyard was not busy, and the _Agile_ and the _Arrow_ were the next morning taken into dock, and a strong gang of men at once set to work upon them. Three days later a signal was made for Nat to go on board the flagship. "I have received the report from the dockyard people, Mr. Glover," the admiral said. "They confirm our opinion that the _Agile_ has not suffered any serious damage; that she is a new and well-built vessel, and well fitted for our service, and she will therefore be retained at the valuation they set upon her. Here is your commission as her commander. Having done so well in the little _Arrow_, I have no doubt as to your ability and fitness for the post. She will carry forty hands. I shall give you two petty officers, a boatswain's mate and a gunner's mate. I had thought of giving you another midshipman, but I think it would be better that you should take a surgeon. Three or four assistant surgeons came out last week, and I can very well spare you one. "I shall not give you one of the new arrivals, for it is better that these for a time should serve on larger ships, get accustomed to naval work, and learn the ordinary routine of duty on board. I shall, therefore, send you one from either the _Theseus_ or the _Limerick_, and fill up his place with a new-comer. Your duties will be precisely the same as those assigned to you in the _Arrow_, except that I shall not impress upon you the necessity for giving a wide berth to suspicious vessels. You will cruise on the coast of Hayti, take off refugees, communicate, if possible, with chiefs of the insurgents, and see if there is any strong feeling among them in favour of annexation to England. You will be authorized, in case it is absolutely necessary in order to save the inhabitants of any coast town from slaughter from the blacks, either to help the garrison with your guns or to land a portion not exceeding half your crew to aid in the defence." "I am indeed greatly obliged to you, admiral, and assure you that I will do my best to merit your kindness and confidence." "It is to yourself rather than to me that you are indebted for what is virtually a step towards promotion. Just at present I do not think that you are likely to have any opportunity of taking advantage of your increased force, as we have heard no complaints of pirates of late. We may hope that these scoundrels, finding that the islands are growing too hot for them, have moved away to safer quarters. At any rate, if there are any of them in these waters, they are likely to be among the northern Cays, and are probably confining their depredations for a time to ships trading between Europe and Florida, or to vessels from here which have passed beyond the general limit of the seas we patrol." On Nat's return to the dockyard, he delighted Lippincott with the news of the exchange that they were to make. Turnbull was in hospital, but the surgeons had reported that his wound was not so serious as it seemed at first, and that a fortnight's rest and quiet would go far to render him convalescent. The sailors, too, were glad to hear that they were going to be transferred to a craft in which they would be able to meet an enemy with confidence. They were also pleased to hear that there was to be no change in their officers, for they had unbounded trust in their young commander, and had from the first agreed that they had never sailed in a more comfortable ship. After seeing Turnbull and acquainting him with the news, Nat paid a visit to the Pickards. They had landed on the evening of their arrival, and, after stopping a day in an hotel, had established themselves in a pretty house outside the town, which Monsieur Pickard had hired from a merchant who was on the point of sailing for England, and would be absent several months. Monsieur Pickard had, on arriving, gone to a merchant with whom he had business connections, and to whom he had frequently consigned produce for shipment to England or France when there happened to be no vessel in Port-au-Prince sailing for Europe. He had obtained from him a loan on the security of the season's produce, which had, fortunately, been sent down to be warehoused at Port-au-Prince two or three weeks before the insurrection broke out. Nat's friends, too, heartily congratulated him on obtaining the command of a larger vessel. "After the troubles and anxiety we have of late gone through, Monsieur Glover, we feel the comfort of being under the protection of the British flag, and shall enjoy it all the more now that we know that you are not going to sea again in that pretty little vessel, for if you fell in with another large corsair you might not be so fortunate as you were last time. As you have said, if an unlucky shot had struck one of your spars, you would have been at her mercy, and we know what that mercy would mean. I intend to stay here for a short time, till madame and the girls get quite accustomed to their new home, before sailing for Port-au-Prince; but whether I am at home or away you know how welcome you will be here whenever you happen to be in port. How long do you think it is likely to be before you are off?" "I was speaking to the superintendent of the dockyard before I came out, and he says that he will get the _Agile_ ready for sea in three weeks' time. He cannot possibly manage it before; the hull could be ready in a week, but the suit of sails will require three times as long, though he has promised to take on some extra hands if he can get them. Orders have, however, been given by the _Thames_ to the chief native sail-maker of the place to patch some of the sails and to make several new ones, and he has taken up some of the best hands in the town. Then, no doubt, whoever gets the command of the _Arrow_ will be wanting her sails pushed forward, though that is not certain, for it is not unlikely that, now the _Agile_ has been bought into the service, the _Arrow_ will be sold. Indeed, one of the principal merchants here would be glad to buy her as a private yacht if he had the chance, as he often has business at the other islands, and she is just the craft that would suit him. He said that by putting up shorter topmasts twelve men would be enough to sail her, and that he would exchange the guns for eight-pounders, as from what he had heard she could outsail almost any craft she was likely to meet with, and small guns would be quite sufficient to prevent any of these little native piratical craft from meddling with her. However, I think the superintendent will keep his word, and that in three weeks' time I shall be off." "I may possibly be at Port-au-Prince before you, then," Monsieur Pickard said. "I am thinking of chartering a small brig and going in her to Port-au-Prince, and bringing my goods back from there. Now that the mulattoes are up in arms, the place cannot be considered as absolutely safe; and as I calculate they are worth from eight to ten thousand pounds, I think it will be well to get them over as soon as possible." "I quite agree with you, Monsieur Pickard, and should certainly advise you to lose no time. Unless I get instructions to the contrary, I shall, in the first place, cruise round the shore of the bay of Hayti." Ten days later, indeed, Monsieur Pickard sailed in the brig that he had chartered. Nat had called to say good-bye the evening before, and, to his embarrassment, was presented by him with a very handsome gold watch and chain, the former bearing the inscription that it was a small token of the deepest gratitude of Eugene Pickard, his wife and daughters, for having saved them from the most terrible fate. "It is only a little thing, Monsieur Glover," the planter said--"a feeble token of our gratitude, but something which many years hence will recall to your memory the inestimable service that you have rendered us." The superintendent of the dockyard kept his word, and in three weeks the _Agile_ was afloat again, and the next morning twenty men drafted from the war-ships in the port were transferred to her. Those of the _Arrow_, with the exception of five still in the hospital, had shifted their quarters to her a fortnight previously. Turnbull had rejoined the evening before. His arm was still in a sling, but otherwise he was quite convalescent. Lippincott had that morning given up the bandage round his head, which had kept him almost a prisoner until now, for he had refused to go into the town until after nightfall with his head bound up, although Nat had many times assured him that an honourable wound would not be regarded as any disadvantage by the young ladies at Kingston. The assistant surgeon, James Doyle, a cheery young Irishman, also joined that morning. "It is glad I am to be out of all the ceremony and botheration on board the frigate," he said as he shook hands with Nat, "and to be afloat on my own account, as it were. Saunders, the surgeon, was enough to wear one out with his preciseness and his regulations; faith, he was a man who would rather take off a man's leg than listen to a joke, and it put me on thorns to hear him speak to the men as if they were every one of them shamming--as if anyone would pretend to be ill when he had to take the bastely medicines Saunders used to make up for them." "I don't think you will find much shamming here, doctor, especially if the new hands are as good as the others; and I hope that your services will not often be required except in the matter of wounds." "No fighting means no wounds, and I am afraid that there is no hope of fighting," the surgeon said, shaking his head mournfully; "you and the _Orpheus_ have pretty well cleared out the pirates, and it was a case of pure luck that you came across this craft the other day. But there is no doubt that the _Orpheus'_ men have had all the luck, and the big ships' turn won't come till we have war with France. However, it may be that the luck will stick to you for a bit yet, for, by my faith, I shall before long have forgotten how to take off a limb or to tie up an artery for want of practice. We all envied you when you came in the other day with the two prizes behind you, both big enough to have eaten you up, and though we cheered, there was many a man who grumbled, 'Bad cess to them, the _Orpheus_' men have got all the luck.'" "But the _Orpheus_ had nothing to do with it," Nat laughed. "No, I know that; but you had been one of their men, and had, as I have heard, more than your share already of adventures." Nat had received no further orders, and sailed that afternoon; two days later he was off the entrance of the great bay. He coasted along the shore as near as he could venture, always keeping a man on watch for signals made by anyone anxious to be taken off. When it became dark the anchor was dropped, so that no part of the shore could be passed without the ship being observed. It was on the seventh day after sailing that he arrived at Port-au-Prince. Half an hour after he had anchored, Monsieur Pickard came off in a boat. "It is lucky that I lost no time," he said after the first greetings were over; "I got my last bale of goods on board the brig an hour ago, and we are going to warp her out at once so as to be under shelter of your guns." "Why, what is the matter?" "There is news that a large force of mulattoes and negroes are coming down from the hills and will be here probably to-morrow morning. Luckily a great part of the negroes were turned out of the town a fortnight ago. There are only two hundred soldiers here, and about as many white volunteers--little enough to defend the place if they attack us. No doubt they chose the moment because there is not a French war-ship of any kind in port. However, I think that all the white women and children are on board the ships. They are all crowded. I have about twenty on board the brig, and have rigged up a sail as an awning, and on such a warm night as this they will sleep better there than they would in a cabin. I can assure you that there was the greatest satisfaction when you were seen coming in. Several of the captains had talked of towing their vessels out three or four miles into the bay, but as soon as it was certain that you were an armed ship, the idea was given up, as many of them were only half-laden; and it was felt that, of whatever nationality you were, you would prevent the negroes from coming off in boats to murder the women and children. Of course I did not know that it was you until I made out your figure from the shore, but as soon as I did so, I told all I knew that they need not trouble about the safety of those on board ship, for I could answer for it that you would not hesitate to turn your guns on any boats that went out to attack them." "Well, Monsieur Pickard, I cannot believe that the town will be taken, but at any rate I congratulate you on having got all your produce an board." "Yes, it is a very important matter to us; we cannot calculate upon finding a purchaser for our house at Cape François at anything approaching its value at ordinary times. I have a couple of thousand pounds lying at my banker's, and although six months ago I would not have taken forty thousand for the estate and the slaves upon it, I suppose I may consider myself fortunate if I get half that sum, or even less, now. Anyhow, if I get my crop here safe to Jamaica, I need not worry myself as to the future." "If the place is attacked in the morning, monsieur, I have the admiral's authority to land half my men to aid in the defence; and though twenty men is but a small number, they may render some assistance. I intend to hold them in reserve, and to take them to any spot at which the insurgents may be pressing back the defenders. I shall be obliged if you will inform the officer in command of the troops and the civil authorities that they can count on my assistance to that extent. Will you give them my advice to get all the available boats ranged along by the quay opposite to us, so that in case of the worst all can retreat there. I will cover their embarkation with my guns. Lastly, I should advise the captains of all the ships in port to tow their vessels out and range them behind us, so that there may be nothing to interfere with our line of fire." "I will inform the committee of defence directly I go ashore, and they will doubtless send off at once to order the various ships to anchor at the spot you indicate. It will be a relief, indeed, to them all to know that you have undertaken their protection." "I will go ashore with you," Nat said; "though I have landed here more than once I do not know the place well enough to be able to act quickly. I should like to see exactly where your batteries are placed, and where it is most likely that the negroes will make their chief attack." They went ashore and landed together, and walked to the house where the principal men of the town were assembled. "Will you come in with me?" Monsieur Pickard asked. "No, I will leave you to explain what I propose to do and what I recommend that they should do. There is sure to be a lot of talk and discussion, and I do not wish to lose time. The sun will be setting in another hour, so I will make my round at once." Passing through the town, Nat visited the various batteries that had been erected, and decided that if the blacks were well led they would work round and attack the remains of the native town. The batteries had principally been erected round the European quarter, as if any enemy coming from the hills would be certain to make a direct attack, while the native quarter was almost entirely undefended, although with this once in the possession of the enemy the whole town would lie open to them. "It is clear that this is the real point of danger," he muttered. "Fortunately, from where we are lying our guns can sweep the widest street that runs down through this quarter. I shall mention my ideas to Pickard. No doubt he is still talking away at the meeting." He went back to the house. M. Pickard and half a dozen other gentlemen were standing at the door. M. Pickard at once introduced them to him. "My object in coming round here, gentlemen, is to tell you that in my opinion your defences, which are quite strong enough to protect the town against any body of negroes coming down on the easterly side, are wholly insufficient to repel an attack if made on the native town. I trust, therefore, that when the troops man the defences a considerable number of them at least will be so placed as to be ready to meet an attack from that side. There is practically nothing to prevent the negroes from entering there, and, as many of the mulattoes with them must be perfectly aware of the position of the batteries, they are scarcely likely to propose to make an attack upon them, knowing that the negroes would not be able to face an artillery fire, but would lead them round to attack the almost defenceless native portion of the town." "We have always reckoned upon their coming upon us by one of the main roads from the hills," one of the gentlemen said. "So I see, monsieur; but some of the mulattoes with them are men of considerable intelligence, and would be hardly foolish enough to try to break down the door that you have closed against them when they know that there is an open entrance at the back. If there is a man with the smallest spark of military genius about him he will commence the attack by a feint in considerable force against the batteries, and then, under cover of the smoke of your guns and his own--for I hear from Monsieur Pickard that they are said to have fifteen or twenty guns which they have taken at small places on the coast--will send round the main body of his force to fall on the native town. That is my opinion, gentlemen. I know very little of military matters, but it seems to me that is the course that any man of moderate intelligence would pursue, and I therefore should strongly advise that at least half your volunteer force should take post to defend the native town, and so give time to the remainder to come up and assist in the defence. I shall post my sailors in a position where they can best aid in the defence in this direction, and shall have the guns of my ship in readiness to open fire on the native town if you are driven back." "Thank you, sir. We shall have another meeting late this evening, and I shall do my best to urge the committee to act as you suggest." Nat returned on board the _Agile_. Already most of the ships in the port had anchored a short distance outside the brigantine, and a few that had kept on until the last moment taking their cargo on board were being towed by their boats in the same direction. Turnbull and Lippincott were anxiously awaiting Nat's return. Retiring into the cabin, he told them the result of his investigation of the defences and the position on shore. "I think we shall have hot work to-morrow," he went on. "If the negroes are not absolute fools they will not knock their heads against the batteries. There are twenty cannon in position, for the most part ships' guns, and as I hear that they have plenty of ammunition, and especially grape, they would simply mow the niggers down if they attacked them. There is only one battery with three guns covering the native town, and the blacks ought to have no difficulty in carrying this with a rush. We have learnt by experience that, whatever their faults, they can fight furiously, and are ready enough to risk their lives. Thus, this battery may be taken in a few minutes. If a hundred of the volunteers held the huts behind it they might check them for a time, but as the negroes are several thousands strong the resistance cannot be long. The best point of defence will be that street facing us here. Our guns will come into play, and it is there that I shall join the French as they fall back. "I shall get you, Mr. Lippincott, to row round this evening to all these craft near us, and to request the captains, in my name, to send all the men provided with muskets they may have, on board us, as soon as firing is heard. You will remain on board in charge, Turnbull; with your arm in a sling, you are not fit for fighting on shore. With your twenty men you ought to be able to work the guns pretty fast. Between their shots the men with muskets would aid. Of course you would use grape. If their attack lulls in the least send a few round-shot among the houses on their side. Pomp and Sam had better go ashore with us and act as boat-keepers. I will take the boat higher up than those of the townspeople, for if a panic seizes them there would be a mad rush to get on board. We will go a couple of hundred yards farther, and the boat will lie a short distance out, and not come in close till they see us running towards it. In that way we can make sure of being able to get on board." "I should certainly have liked to land," Turnbull said, "but I know that I am not fit yet for hard fighting." "I suppose you will be taking me along with you?" Doyle said. "By all means come if you like, but I was not thinking of doing so." "It is not often that we get a chance of taking a share in the fun. As a rule, as soon as the guns are loaded and ready for action we have to go below, and to stop there bandaging and dressing wounds, with not a chance of seeing what is going on. This is just one chance in a hundred. I should be no good here, for there is no one to look after. I will take with me two or three tourniquets and some bandages, and perchance I may be the means of saving some poor boy's life; and while not so engaged I may have a slap at these murdering blacks. I am a pretty good shot, and when a man can bring down ten snipe out of every dozen, as I have done time after time in the ould country, he ought to be able to put a bullet into a black man's carcass." "If you are bent upon going, by all means do so. As you say, a tourniquet clapped on directly a man is wounded may save his life, and every additional musket will be a valuable addition to our strength." CHAPTER XV THE ATTACK ON PORT-AU-PRINCE It was just getting light on the following morning when the sound of a cannon was heard, and it was followed by several other shots, mingled with the rattle of distant musketry. The town woke up with a start. Drums beat in the streets, and in a minute or two men armed with rifles and muskets poured out from their houses, and hurried to the rendezvous settled upon the night before. The firing came from the eastern side of the town, and the three batteries in that direction were all engaged. Mingled with the report of the guns came the sound of a more distant cannonade, showing that the insurgents' artillery was also at work. Among the shipping there was as great an excitement as in the town. On board every ship men were running up the ratlines to see if a view of the scene of action could be obtained from aloft. On the decks numbers of women, who had hastily thrown on their upper clothing, or wrapped themselves in shawls, listened anxiously to the sound of firing. Scarce one but had a husband, brother, or son among the defenders of the place. There were ten vessels lying outside the _Agile_, and from each of these boats presently put off to the brigantine, some with three or four men, others with as many as ten, all armed with muskets. "You will soon see how matters go, Turnbull, and whether this is a real or only a feigned attack." The landing-party were in a few minutes ready to embark. Each man carried fifty rounds of ammunition for his musket, and a dozen additional cartridges for his pistols. Their water-bottles were slung over their shoulders, and each had a hunch of bread and of cold meat that had been boiled in the galley the night before in readiness. They took their places in the cutter and gig, and were soon rowed ashore to the point which Nat had fixed on the previous evening. The various boats and lighters used in loading the ships had all been gathered at the quay facing the _Agile_, and Nat was pleased to see that his advice in this respect had been followed. The orders to Sam and Pomp, who were to remain one in each boat, were that they should push the boats out as far as the head-ropes--which had been lengthened for the occasion--would allow them, drop a small grapnel over the stern, and should then keep a sharp look-out. The moment the party were seen returning they were to pull up the grapnels, and haul on the head-ropes till the boats were alongside. Both were armed, and the orders were that they were to shoot anyone who should try to force himself into either boat before the sailors came up. Nat led his party to an empty house close to the street commanded by the _Agile's_ guns. Six of the sailors were placed as sentinels at the ends of streets running into this, the rest piled arms. "Now, Mr. Lippincott, I shall be obliged if you will go and ascertain how the affair is proceeding, and whether the batteries are keeping the insurgents well in check. I am about to start for the battery on this side, where I shall get a fair view of the country round, and see how matters stand. "You will remain here, Mr. Thompson," he went on to the boatswain, "in charge of the party. I shall take Newman with me in case I have any orders to send to you. Will you come with me also, Doyle?" The two officers, followed by an active young seaman, started. On arriving near the end of the native town, Nat was glad to see a group of the volunteers in front of him. They saluted as he came up. "What force have you here, gentlemen?" he asked. "Fifty men, captain." "It would have been better if it had been a hundred and fifty. If they come here in force you will not be able to keep them at bay long. Where is your main body?" "They are gathered in front of the municipal offices in readiness to move wherever their services may be most required." "That is quite satisfactory. I was afraid that most of them might be at the batteries at the other side of the town, where the troops ought to be quite able to hold their own against the blacks." At this moment another gentleman, with a red sash over his shoulder, came up. He was the commander of the company stationed there. "I am afraid that we are rather out of it, monsieur," he said, after exchanging salutes with Nat. "I am still more afraid, sir, that you are by no means out of it. I think that you will find that before many minutes are over you will be hotly engaged. I have come forward to tell you that my men are placed just on the other side of Royal Street, and to beg that if you are not able to maintain yourselves here--and if you are attacked, I am convinced that it will be in such force that you will be unable to do so--you will not endanger your force by holding on here too long, but will retreat to Royal Street, and there make a stand, occupying the houses on the other side of the street. The guns of my vessel are loaded and in readiness to sweep the street with grape as the negroes try to cross it; and we shall have in addition some forty or fifty men from the merchantmen outside her, who will aid in keeping them in check. If I might advise you, I should say that it would be well for you to write a note, now that you have time to do so, saying that you are attacked in overwhelming force, and are about to fall back to Royal Street, which you will, aided by my sailors and guns, hold to the last, and begging your commander to send his whole force up to support you. This you will, of course, keep until the attack comes, and will send off as soon as you perceive that your position here is untenable." "I think that is a very good suggestion," the officer said, "and shall carry it out at once." "I will go on to the battery," Nat said; "from there I shall get a better idea of the situation." They had scarcely gone beyond the line of houses when a French soldier came running in. "What is your news?" Nat asked him. "A great crowd of the enemy are coming, sir. The captain has sent me to beg the commander of the volunteers here to bring up his force to support him." "You will find him a hundred yards farther on. Now, doctor, you will go forward and have a look." Arriving at the battery, which was manned by twenty French soldiers under a young lieutenant, Nat and the doctor mounted the parapet. The enemy were still half a mile away. They were in no sort of order, but were coming on in a confused mass. "There must be three or four thousand of them, lieutenant," Nat said quietly. "You may check them a little, but you will never keep them out of the town if they come on with a rush. I suppose you are loaded with grape?" "Yes, monsieur," the young Frenchman said. He felt relieved at the arrival of the commander of the British ship of war, for he was feeling the responsibility of his position greatly. "I should let them get within four or five hundred yards," Nat said quietly, "then fire your guns singly, loading as rapidly as possible. Here come the volunteers; place five-and-twenty of them on each side of your battery. Let them lie down, and open fire when the enemy are within two hundred and fifty yards. If they come on in spite of the fire, I should say that you had best all retire at the double. It will be of no use trying to hold the houses; they would only outflank you and cut you off. I have already arranged with the volunteers that they shall make a stand at Royal Street. I have a party of my sailors there in readiness to help them, and as the guns of my ship will sweep the street we should certainly be able to hold it until help arrives." "Thank you, monsieur, I will do as you suggest." At this moment the volunteers came up at a run. "Where do you wish me to place my men?" the captain said to the French lieutenant. "I shall be obliged if you will put half of them on each side of the battery. Let them lie down there, and open fire when the enemy are within two hundred and fifty yards. If when they get within a hundred yards, your fire and ours does not stop them, we will then retreat together at the double. If we were once surrounded we should have no chance whatever. Give your guns an elevation of five hundred yards," he said to his men. When this was done he looked inquiringly at Nat. The other nodded. "Yes, I think it is about five hundred yards." Then he turned to the seaman: "Go back as quickly as you can, Newman, and tell Mr. Thompson that the blacks are coming, and that we shall probably be with him five minutes after you arrive. Tell him also to send a man down as we had arranged to the wharf, to signal to the ship to be in readiness." As he spoke the first of the guns boomed out. A few seconds later the second was fired, and this was followed by the third at a similar interval. The cannon were old ship guns, and had been heavily charged with grape, and the destruction wrought upon the crowded mass of negroes was so great that they stopped suddenly. Several of their leaders were seen to rush to the front waving and gesticulating, and with a wild yell the negroes again advanced. They had gone but fifty yards when the gun that was first fired spoke out again, followed quickly by the others. This time there was no pause in the advance. Yelling furiously the negroes, who were armed with guns, discharged them at random. Two more rounds were fired, and then the crakle of the rifles and muskets of the volunteers broke out. The centre of the negro line paused indecisively, but the flanks continued on their way without a check. "It is just as I thought," Nat said to the doctor, who was loading and firing his piece rapidly. "Do you see how their flanks are extending? One more round, lieutenant, and then we had best be going, or we shall be cut off from the town." Again the three guns were discharged. The execution was terrible in the centre of the black line, but the flanks still kept on. "Now, captain, get your men together," Nat said to the civilian officer who was standing beside him; "if you go to the right I will go to the left. They won't hear our voices in this din." Another half-minute and the soldiers and volunteers were running at the top of their speed, but keeping well together, towards the town. They had a hundred and fifty yards' start, and also the advantage that the blacks had been coming forward at a run for over half a mile. Therefore, although the latter came on with yells of triumph and exultation, they did not gain on the little party. Indeed, when they once entered the native town the French considerably increased their distance, for the negroes, fearing that they might fall into an ambush, came along more carefully. "Post your men at the windows of the houses opposite to you," Nat said to the French lieutenant. "Did you send your messenger on?" he asked, as he ran up to the volunteer officer. The latter gave an exclamation of horror. "No, I forgot all about it." "So did I, or I should have reminded you of it. Give it to one of the men now, and tell him to take it as hard as he can run. Tell your men off in threes and fours to the houses opposite. I have no doubt we can keep them in check till help comes." Thompson was waiting in the street as the party ran up. "Where have you posted your men?" Nat asked him. "I thought most likely that they would come down this street, so I put four men in each of the two houses facing it, seven are in the two houses facing the next street coming down, the rest are here." Nat hurried up to the French officer. "My men are in the two houses facing this and the next street, will you occupy the houses next them, and tell the officer of the volunteers to scatter his men in twos and threes in the other houses. Doctor, you had better join the party in the house facing the next street; and do you, Mr. Thompson, place yourself with five men in the house facing the street beyond. We shall have the brunt of it, for they are more likely to come by these streets than by those near the harbour, knowing, as they do, that our ship is lying anchored off there." It was three or four minutes before Nat, from the window at which he had posted himself, saw a great body of negroes and mulattoes coming along the street facing him. "Open fire at once, lads," he said. "Take good aim; every shot ought to tell in that crowd, and our fire will let them know on board that the blacks are close at hand." Yelling, shouting, and brandishing their weapons, the insurgents poured down. The fire from the next two parties had showed that the negroes were also advancing by the streets above. A minute later three black columns poured into Royal Street, and as they did so a fire broke out from every window facing them. Then came a deep roar, and a storm of grape swept along the street; another and another followed, and with yells of surprise and fear the rioters rushed back into shelter, leaving the streets strewn with dead and dying. It was some minutes before they could rally, and in the meantime three of the guns of the _Agile_ sent ball after ball among the houses to the west of the street. Three times did the negroes attempt to cross the fatal road, but each time they fell back with heavy loss, which was specially severe in their last attempt, as the main body of the volunteers had now come up, entered by the backs of the houses and joined the defenders, and the fire of two hundred and fifty muskets played terrible havoc among the assailants. There was a pause in the fight now, and the ship's broadside continued to sweep the native town with balls while an occasional spurt of musketry fire broke out when the blacks showed themselves in any of the streets. Suddenly from a score of houses in the native town smoke, followed speedily by flames, mounted up. "The scoundrels have fired the town," exclaimed Doyle, who had now joined Nat. "They see they have no chance of crossing here, and as they cannot plunder the place they have made up their mind to destroy it." "Yes, and they are likely to succeed, doctor, the wind is blowing this way. Half the native houses are roofed with palm leaves, and will burn like tinder. Our only chance now is to drive the blacks out altogether and then fight the fire." He at once sent a sailor down with a flag to signal to the ship to stop firing, then he went out into the street. As soon as he was seen he was joined by the French lieutenant and the commander, with several officers of the volunteers, together with Monsieur Pickard. "I think, gentlemen," Nat said, "that unless we take the offensive and drive the blacks out of the town there will be little hope of extinguishing the fire. The wind is blowing strongly in this direction, and there is not a moment to be lost if we are to save the town. The negroes must be thoroughly demoralized, they must have lost over a thousand men here and three or four hundred before they entered the town. It is quite likely that they have retreated already, but in any case I do not anticipate any serious resistance." The others at once agreed. The drums were beaten, and the volunteers, soldiers, and sailors poured out from the houses, and then, dividing into three columns, advanced down the streets through which the blacks had retired. They met with no resistance. A few negroes who had entered houses to gather plunder were shot down as they issued out, but with these exceptions none of the enemy were seen until the columns issued from the town, when the negroes could be seen retreating at a run across the plain. The French officer at once ran forward with his men to the little battery, and sent shot after shot among them, for they were still less than half a mile away. The sailors and volunteers slung their muskets behind them, and, running back, endeavoured to check the course of the flames. This, however, was impossible. The fire spread from house to house with extraordinary rapidity. The wind hurled the burning flakes on ahead, dropping many upon the inflammable roofs, and in twenty minutes the whole quarter west of Royal Street was in flames. Nat was now joined by Turnbull and all the crew, the two negroes, who had been sent off to the ship with the boats, alone remaining in charge of the vessel. "We have beaten the negroes, Turnbull, but the fire will beat us. If this wind continues it will sweep the whole town away. It is useless to try and save any of these native houses. Look at the burning flakes flying over our heads!" After a short consultation with the French officers they agreed that the only chance was to arrest the fire at the edge of the European quarter, and that the whole force should at once set to work to pull down the native houses adjoining them. The sound of cannon on the other side of the town had continued until now, but it gradually ceased, as the news reached the negroes there that the main attack, of whose success they had felt sure, had hopelessly failed, and it was not long before the troops from the batteries came up to assist the workers. Their labours, however, were in vain. A shout of dismay called the attention of the men who, half-blinded with the dust and smoke, were working their utmost. Looking round, they saw that the flames were mounting up from several of the houses behind them. The wood-work was everywhere as dry as tinder, and the burning flakes, which were falling thickly upon them, had set the houses on fire in a dozen places. "We can do nothing more, sir," the officer in command of the troops said. "The business part of the town is doomed. All that we could even hope to save are the detached houses standing in gardens and shrubberies." So it turned out. The flames swept onward until the business quarter, as well as the native town, was completely burnt out, and it needed all the efforts of the soldiers and inhabitants to prevent the private residences of the merchants and planters from being ignited by the burning fragments scattered far and wide by the wind. It was noon when the officers and crew of the _Agile_, accompanied by M. Pickard--who was, like all the rest blackened by the dust and smoke--returned on board. "Well, that has been as hot a morning's work as I ever went through," Turnbull said. "It is hard to believe that a battle has been fought and a town destroyed in the course of about five hours." "Yes; I think on the whole we may be very well satisfied, Turnbull, though I suppose the people who have lost their houses and stores will hardly see it in the same light. Still, they saved their lives, and at any rate, Monsieur Pickard, you can be congratulated on having got all your goods on board just in time." "I am thankful indeed that it is so," the planter said. "I hope, of course, to get something for my estate. As to the house, after what we have seen here I cannot set much value on it. What has happened this morning may happen at Cape François to-morrow. They might not be able to take it, but a dozen negroes choosing their time when a strong wind is blowing, and starting the fires in as many places, might level the town to the ground. At any rate, I shall direct the captain of the brig to sail at once for Kingston, and to deliver the cargo to my agent there, and shall proceed myself to Cape François. I wish to learn whether the bank there has sent off its funds and securities to some safer place, or is retaining them. In the latter case I shall withdraw them at once, and shall put up my estates for sale." "I will give you a passage, Monsieur Pickard. I have nothing more to stay here for, and shall sail up the coast to-morrow morning." "Thank you very much; I accept your offer with gladness. I am anxious to close all my connection with this unfortunate island as soon as possible." In the afternoon the governor of the town, with the officer commanding the troops, the maire, and a deputation of the leading citizens, came off to thank Nat for the assistance that his crew and guns had rendered. They brought with them an official document rehearsing these services, and saying that had it not been for the assistance they had rendered, the town would undoubtedly have been captured by the blacks, and probably all the whites on shore massacred, together with their wives and families, who had taken refuge on board the shipping. The commandant stated that this document would be sent to the British admiral at Kingston. Nat replied very modestly, saying that both the officers and men on board had rejoiced at being able to render a service in the cause of humanity, and that he was only acting in accordance with the orders he had received from the admiral to afford every aid in his power to the white population of the island. After this official visit many of the merchants, planters, and military officers came off individually to thank him for having saved their wives and families by the protection that he had afforded to the shipping, and by the aid given by his guns and the landing-party, which had alone saved the town from capture. At daybreak next morning the _Agile_ got up her anchor and started for the north. The brig containing Monsieur Pickard's property had sailed the previous afternoon, and the rest of the shipping were preparing to start at the time the _Agile_ got up anchor. All of them were crowded with fugitives, the women and children being now joined by many of their male relatives, who had lost almost all they possessed by the destruction of their homes and warehouses. The next morning the brigantine arrived at Cape François. The news she brought of the destruction of Port-au-Prince caused great excitement, as it was felt that the fate that had befallen one town might well happen to another. Monsieur Pickard at once went to the bank, where he found that the greater portion of the specie and all valuable documents had already been sent for safety to Jamaica, and he received an order upon the bank there for the payment to him of the money he had placed on deposit in the bank, and of the various securities and documents that had been held in safe-keeping for him. He then went to pay a visit to Monsieur Duchesne, to whose house Nat, who had landed with him, had gone direct. The family were delighted to see him. "You may expect another visitor shortly," he said. "Monsieur Pickard has come on shore with me; he has gone to the bank now, but said that he would come on here later." "Then he has escaped," Madame Duchesne exclaimed. "We had hardly even hoped that he and his family had done so, for we knew that the blacks had risen everywhere in that part of the island." "Yes, I am happy to say that he, Madame Pickard, and his two daughters, all got safely away; in fact, they all came off to my craft--not the _Agile_, you know, but to the _Arrow_; and I had the pleasure of taking them as passengers to Jamaica, where the ladies still are." "That is good news indeed," Myra said. "Valerie is a great friend of mine. Of course Louise is younger, but I was very fond of her too. The year before last I spent a couple of months with them at their plantation; and, as I daresay they told you, they are always here for three or four months in the winter season." Nat then told them what had taken place at Port-au-Prince, and how he and his men had taken part in the fight. "It is terrible news indeed," said M. Duchesne; "and one can scarcely feel safe here. Port-au-Prince is the largest town in Hayti, with the exception only of this, which is quite as open to the danger of fire. I think this will decide us on leaving. Matters seem going from bad to worse. I don't know whether you know that three commissioners have arrived from France. So far from improving the state of things, they are making them worse every day. As far as can be seen, they are occupied solely in filling their own pockets; they have enormously increased the taxation, and that at a time when everyone is on the verge of ruin. No account is given of the sums they collect, and certainly the money has not been spent in taking any measures either for the safety of the town or for the suppression of the insurrection. I have wound up all my affairs here, and have disposed of our plantations. There are many who still believe that in time everything will come right again; I have myself no hope. Even if we got peaceful possession of our estates, there would be no hands to work them. The freedom of all the blacks has been voted by that mad assembly in Paris; and if there is one thing more certain than another, it is that the negroes will not work until they are obliged to, so the estates will be practically worthless. Therefore I have accepted an offer for a sum which is about a quarter of what the estate was worth before, and consider that it is so much saved out of the fire." "Monsieur Pickard is of exactly the same opinion as you are," Nat said, "and has come here principally for the purpose of disposing of his estate on any terms that he can obtain." "Well, I do not think he will find any difficulty in getting about the same proportion of value as we have done. The rich mulattoes are buying freely, and, as I say, some of the whites are doing the same. Ah, here he is! "Ah, my dear Pickard, we are glad indeed to see you, and to learn from our friend here that your wife and daughters are safe in Jamaica." "We have been very anxious about you," Madame Duchesne said; "and Myra has been constantly talking of your family." "It was the same with us, I can assure you, madame; and it is strange that we should first have obtained tidings of your safety from Monsieur Glover, and that you should also have obtained news of ours from him. Still more so that while he has, as he said to us, been of some little service to you--but which, we learnt from one of his officers, seems to have been considerable--it is to him that we also owe our lives." "Little service!" Madame Duchesne repeated indignantly. "However, we know Monsieur Glover of old. First of all he saved Myra's life from that dog, and certainly he saved both our lives from the negroes. And did he save yours? He has just told us that you came on board with him, and that he took you to Jamaica. Still, that is not like what he did for us." "That is one way of putting it, madame," Monsieur Pickard said with a smile; "but as you say you know him of old, you will not be surprised at the little story that I have to tell you." "Not now, Monsieur Pickard," Nat said hastily, "or if you do I shall say good-bye to Madame Duchesne at once, and go straight on board." "You must not do that," Madame Duchesne said as he rose to his feet; "you have only just arrived, and we are not going to let you off so easily." "We will compromise," her husband said. "Now, Monsieur Glover, you know that my wife and daughter will be dying of curiosity until they hear this story. Suppose you take a turn down the town with me. I will go and enquire whether there is any ship likely to sail in the course of a few days or so for Jamaica. Then Monsieur Pickard can tell his story, and my wife can retail it to me later on. You see, Monsieur Pickard's wife and daughters are great friends of ours, and madame and Myra naturally wish to hear what has happened to them during this terrible time." "Very well," Nat said with a laugh, "I don't mind accepting that compromise; but really I do hate hearing things talked over which were just ordinary affairs. But remember that Monsieur Pickard naturally will make a great deal more of them than they are worth, since, no doubt, the outcome of them was that he and his family did get out of the hands of the blacks in consequence. Now, Monsieur Duchesne, I will start with you at once, so that madame and Myra's curiosity may be satisfied as soon as possible." Monsieur Duchesne took Nat first to call upon the three commissioners, who happened to be gathered in council. The commandant at Port-au-Prince had asked him to convey the report he had hastily drawn up of the attack on the town. This he had sent ashore as soon as he anchored; and the commissioners were discussing the news when Nat and Monsieur Duchesne were shown in. "I thought, gentlemen," Nat said, "that you might perhaps like to ask me questions upon any point that was not explained in the commandant's report, which was, as he told me, drawn up in great haste; for with four-fifths of the town laid in ashes, and the population homeless and unprovided with food, his hands were full indeed." "Thank you, Lieutenant Glover. The report does full justice to your interposition in our favour, and indeed states that had it not been for the assistance rendered by yourself and the ship of war you command, the town would unquestionably have been carried by the insurgents, and that the whole of the whites, including the troops, would probably have been massacred. Had this been done, it would undoubtedly have so greatly encouraged the rioters that we could hardly have hoped to maintain our hold even of this city." "I was only carrying out the orders that I received in landing to protect the white inhabitants from massacre, gentlemen." "In your opinion, is anyone to blame for the course events took?" "Even had I that opinion," Nat said, "I should certainly not consider myself justified in criticising the action of the officers and authorities of a foreign power. However, the circle of the town was too large to be defended by the force available, of whom half were volunteers, ready to fight most gallantly, as I can testify, but not possessing the discipline of trained troops. I do not think, however, that even had batteries been erected all round the town, the insurgents could have been prevented from effecting an entrance at some points, and setting fire to the houses. They advanced with great determination, in spite of the destructive grape fire maintained by the three guns of the battery. Undoubtedly had the batteries been placed together on that side, as on the one at which it was thought probable that the attack would be made, the insurgents might have been repulsed, but it would have needed a much larger force than that in the town to man all those batteries. And I think it is by no means improbable that even in that case the town might have been burnt; for there were still a large number of negroes employed on the wharves and in the warehouses, and you may take it as certain that some of these were in close communication with the insurgents, and probably agreed to fire the town should their friends fail to effect an entrance. I can only say, sir, that the citizens enrolled for defence fought most gallantly, as did the small party of soldiers manning the battery on that side, and that when the fighting was over all laboured nobly to check the progress of the flames." Several questions were put to him concerning the details of the fighting, and the measures that had been taken for the safety of the women and children, the part his own men played, and the manner in which the insurgents, after gaining a footing in the town, had been prevented from obtaining entire possession of it. At the conclusion of the interview, which had lasted for upwards of two hours, the commissioners thanked Nat very cordially. "You see," Monsieur Duchesne said, when they left the governor's house, "they asked no single question as to whether you thought there was any danger of a similar catastrophe taking place here." "Yes, I noticed they did not. If they had, I could have told them very plainly that, although the negroes suffered very heavily, yet the news that the second town in Hayti had been almost destroyed would be sure to raise their hopes, and that I consider it extremely probable that some day or other this town will also be attacked, and no time should be lost in putting it into a state of thorough defence. I can't say that they impressed me at all favourably." "Short as is the time that they have been here, they have managed to excite all parties against them. They have issued an amnesty, pardoning even those who have committed the most frightful atrocities upon us. They have infuriated a portion of the mulattoes by announcing the repeal of the decree in their favour. Without a shadow of legal authority they have extorted large sums of money from those mulattoes who have remained quiet and are resident here, and seem bent upon extracting all that remains of their late fortune from the whites. One of them is frequently drunk and leads a scandalous life; another appears bent solely upon enriching himself; the third seems to be a well-meaning man, but he is wholly under the control of his drunken companion. If this is the sort of aid we are to receive from France, our future is hopeless indeed. And, indeed, no small portion of my friends begin to see that unless England takes possession of the island the future is altogether hopeless. The general opinion here is that it is impossible that peace can much longer be maintained between England and France, and they hope that one of the first steps England will take after war is declared will be to land an army here." "If the English government were persuaded that the mulattoes and negroes as well as the whites were favourable, I should think that the island might be annexed without difficulty; but unless all parties are agreed I cannot think that a force could be spared that could even hope for success. It would have been an easy task before the mulattoes and the slaves learned their own strength, but it is a very different thing now; and I should say that it would need at least five-and-twenty thousand men, and perhaps even twice that number, to reduce the island to submission and to restore peace and order. I cannot think that, engaged in a war with France, England would be able to spare anything like that force for a difficult and almost certainly a long series of operations here." By this time they had arrived at Monsieur Duchesne's house. "Our friend has only just finished his story," Madame Duchesne said, as he entered. "What a story! what frightful sufferings! what horrors! and," she added with a smile, though her eyes were full of tears--"what 'little' service rendered by you and your brave crew! He has told it all, and of your fight afterwards with that terrible pirate, and how you have added to the list of those you have saved from terrible deaths some eighteen or twenty Spanish gentlemen and ladies, and twice as many sailors." "Yes, I have had wonderful luck," Nat said; "and you see I have been well rewarded. I am only just out of my time as a midshipman, and I am in command of a fine ship, which, in the ordinary course of things, I could not have hoped for for another eight or ten years. I have gained a considerable amount of prize-money, and best of all, the friendship of yourselves and the family of Monsieur Pickard. And the real author of all this is Mademoiselle Myra, who was good enough to have that little quarrel with her aunt's dog just at the time that I happened to be passing." This raised a laugh, which in Myra's case became almost hysterical, and her mother had to take her out of the room. "Now, Monsieur Duchesne, I will take this opportunity of returning on board. I promised you that I would come ashore and dine with you this evening, but I must really make its fulfilment conditional upon your assuring me that there shall be no allusion to any of my adventures." [Illustration: A MESSAGE FROM TOUSSAINT L'OUVERTURE.] "At any rate, I will impress upon my wife and daughter that the subject must be tabooed, and I have no doubt that they will do their best to avoid it, if they can keep away from the topic that cannot but be present in their minds. After hearing Monsieur Pickard's story--of which, as you must remember, I am at present wholly ignorant--you see that, intimate as the two families have been, it is not surprising that they should have been greatly affected by it, especially as for the last month they have been mourning for them as dead." CHAPTER XVI TOUSSAINT L'OUVERTURE The _Agile_ only remained for two days at Cape François, but in that time Nat had learned enough of the doings of the French commissioners to see that the position was becoming hourly more and more hopeless, and nought short of the arrival of a powerful army from France under a capable commander, without political bias and with supreme authority, or the taking over of the island by the English, could bring back peace and prosperity. He was, however, rejoiced to know that Monsieur Duchesne had already taken passages for himself, his wife and daughter, and the old nurse, to Jamaica, and would leave in a few days; and that Monsieur Pickard had received and accepted an offer for his estate, which was at least as good as he had hoped for, and would also return to Kingston as soon as the necessary documents could be prepared and signed. For some weeks the _Agile_ cruised backwards and forwards along the coast of Hayti without adventure. Nat had endeavoured, but unsuccessfully, to open communication with the blacks under Biassou and François, the two chief negro leaders. It was seldom, indeed, that he caught sight of a human being except when cruising in the bay. The mountains along both the north and the south coast were thinly populated. The white planters and employees had perished to a man, and all the smaller villages had been deserted. St. Louis, Jacmel, Fesle, and Sale Trou were occupied by small bodies of French troops, but most of the settlers had left; and the whole of the negroes had from the first taken to the mountains. The same was the case at Port Dauphin, Port de Paix, Le Cap, and St. Nicholas on the north. It was at St. Nicholas that he was for the first time able to open communication with the negroes. He had anchored in the bay, and, among the native boats that came off to sell fruit and fresh meat, was one in which a mulatto of shabby appearance was seated in the stern. As the boat came alongside he stood up, and said to Turnbull, who was leaning on the rail watching the sailors bargaining with the negroes: "Can I speak with the captain, sir? I have a message for him." "Yes, I have no doubt that he will see you. Come on deck." The man climbed up the side, and followed Turnbull aft to where Nat was sitting. "This man wants to speak to you, sir." "I am the bearer of a letter," he said, "to the English officer commanding this ship," and he handed him a very small note. It was as follows:-- _Sir,--As there are rumours that some of the people of this island have opened negotiations with the governor of Jamaica, we, who represent the coloured people of this country, will be glad to have a conversation with you, and to learn from you what would probably be the conditions on which your country would be likely to accept the sovereignty of this island. What would be the condition of the coloured people here if they did so? Should we be guaranteed our freedom and rights as men, or would it mean merely a change of masters? If you are willing to accede to this invitation, I will personally guarantee your safety, and that, whatever the result of our conversation might be, you shall be escorted in safety back to your ship. We are willing that you should be accompanied by not more than six of your sailors, for whose safety I would be equally responsible. The bearer of this will arrange with you as to the point and hour at which you would land._ This was signed "Toussaint." Nat remembered the name. "Is the writer of this the man who was the coachman of Monsieur Bayou, the agent of the Count de Noé?" "The same, sir. He is now next in command to Biassou and François. He is greatly respected among the negroes, and is their chief doctor." "I have met him, and know that he is worthy of confidence. This is just what we have been wanting, Turnbull," he said, handing the letter to him. "Then you know this man?" Turnbull said, after he had read it, and stepped a few paces away from the messenger, so as to be able to converse unheard by him. "Yes, he is one of the few who remained faithful at the rising, concealed his master and family in the woods, and got them safely off. I had an interview with him, and endeavoured to get him to do as much for Madame Duchesne, but he refused, saying that he had done his duty to his master and must now do it to his countrymen. I had frequently spoken with him before. He bore a very high character, and was much respected by all the negroes in the plantations round. As you see, he writes and expresses himself well, and has, indeed, received a very fair education, and is as intelligent as an ordinary white man. I am quite sure that I can place confidence in him." "Perhaps so, but the question is not whether he would be willing, but whether he would have the power, to ensure your safety. Biassou is, by all accounts, a perfect monster of cruelty." "Yes, they say he is the most fiendish of all these savage brutes. Of course I must risk that. My instructions, as you know, are to open communication with the negroes, if possible, and ascertain their intentions. This is the first opportunity that has offered, and I can hardly expect a more favourable one." "You will take one of us with you, I hope." "No; if anything happens to me the _Agile_ must have a captain, and you would want at least one officer." He returned to the mulatto. "Shall I give you a message in writing, or will you take it by word of mouth?" "I do not want writing, sir; if I were searched, and it were found that I was an agent of Toussaint, I should be hung at once. You give me a message, and I will repeat it." "Tell Toussaint that the commander of this ship is Mr. Glover, whom he will remember to have seen at Monsieur Duchesne's plantation and elsewhere, and who knows him to be an honourable man, and will therefore trust himself in the mountains relying upon his promise of protection. You understand that?" "Yes, sir." "Please repeat my words." The man did so. "How far is Toussaint from here?" "Six hours' journey among the hills." "Then tell him that I will land to-morrow night, or rather the next morning, an hour before daybreak--that is to say, at about half-past four. That time will be best, because the boat will return to the ship before it is light enough for it to be seen. Where do you propose that I shall go?" "You see that rock near the end of the point to the south?--it is about three miles from there. To the left of that rock is a sandy beach, which is a good place for landing. Your escort will be there waiting for you." The mulatto bowed, and at once went over the side and got into his boat, while the two men who had rowed him out were still busy selling fruit to the crew. Nat told Sambo to go and buy some fruit, not because they really wanted it, for a supply had already been bought, but in order that, should any of the negroes in the other boats have noticed the mulatto coming on board, it would be supposed that he had done so in order to persuade the steward to deal with him. The next day four picked men were chosen to accompany Nat. They were to take no muskets with them, but each was to carry, in addition to his cutlass, a pistol in his belt, and another concealed in the bosom of his shirt. The absence of muskets was intended to show the negroes that the party had no fear as to their safety. Nat himself intended to carry only his sword, and a double-barrelled pistol in his belt. At four o'clock on the following morning, he and the four men took their places in the gig, and were rowed ashore to the point agreed on. As they landed a negro came down to meet them. "Toussaint charged me to tell you, sir, that he has sent twelve men down, and that he has done so lest you should meet other parties of our people who might not know of this safe-conduct that he has given you." And he handed a document to Nat. "He has done well," Nat said. "I know that I can rely upon Toussaint, but I myself have thought it possible that we might fall in with men of other bands, and I have therefore brought four of my sailors with me. I am ready to start with you whenever you choose." "We will go on at once. The hills are very close here, but it is best that we should be well among them before it is daylight, or we might be noticed by someone in the town. They would not concern themselves much with us, but your dress and that of the sailors would be sure to cause talk and excite suspicion among the soldiers." He went up to some negroes standing a short distance away and gave them an order. They at once started. He himself took his place by Nat, and the sailors followed close behind. "You talk French very well," Nat said. "Yes, sir, thanks to Toussaint. You do not remember me, though I should know you were it daylight, for I have seen you several times when you have been over at our plantation with Mademoiselle Duchesne. I was chief helper in Monsieur Bayou's stables. Of an evening Toussaint had a sort of school, and four or five of us always went to him, and I learned to read and write, and to talk French as the whites talk it and not as we do. He is a good man, and we all love him. There are many who think he will one day be king of the island; he knows much more than any of the others. But it may be that he will be killed before that, for Biassou hates him because he does not like his cruel ways and speaks boldly against them, which no one else dare do, not even François, whom we all regard as equal in rank to him. "There have been many quarrels, but Biassou knows well enough that if he were to hurt Toussaint there would be a general outcry, and that he and the men who carried out his orders would assuredly be killed. For all that no one doubts that he would get Toussaint removed quietly if there was a chance of doing so, but we do not mean to give him the chance. There are twenty of us who keep guard over him. As for Toussaint, he is not like the others, who, when there is nothing else to be done, spend their time in feasting and drinking. He is always busy attending to the wounded who are brought up to him, or the sick, of whom there are many, for the cold air in the mountains has brought down great numbers with the fever, especially those whose plantations lay on the plain, and who were accustomed to sleep in huts. Very many have died, but Toussaint has saved many, and were it needed he could have two hundred for his guard instead of twenty. "But indeed he thinks not of danger, his whole thoughts are taken up with his work; and he is often without regular sleep for nights together, so great is the need for his services." The ground at once began to rise rapidly, and before the day fairly broke they were high among the hills. When it became light Nat examined the document Toussaint had sent to him. It ran as follows:-- _I, Toussaint, do give notice to all that I have given this safe-conduct and my solemn promise for his safety to Monsieur Glover, a British officer, with whom I desire to converse on matters of importance._ Then followed his signature and a great seal in red wax. "It was the one Monsieur Bayou used," the negro said. "Toussaint brought it and the wax from his office, and uses it often, so that we may all recognize it when we see it--for, as you know, sir, there are scarcely any of our people who can read." After three hours' walking the man pointed out a wood near the crest of a high hill a mile distant. "Toussaint is there," he said. "He accompanied us to that point in order that you should have less distance to travel." Nat was by no means sorry at the news. The way had been very steep and difficult, and the sun had now gained great power. As they neared the edge of the wood, Toussaint came out to meet him. "I am glad to see you, Monsieur Glover," he said quietly. "I learned from our people at Cape François that you had returned there with Madame Duchesne and her daughter, and I rejoiced indeed at your escape, which seemed to me marvellous, for how you avoided the search made for you I could not tell. They told me that Madame Duchesne was carried down on a litter, which must have greatly added to your difficulties. I hardly thought, monsieur, when I saw you last that we should thus meet again, I as one of the leaders of my people, you as commander of an English ship." "No; things change quickly, Toussaint." The negro led the way to a rough hut constructed of boughs and trees in the centre of the clump. "You must need breakfast, and, as you see, it is ready for you. Your men will be cared for." The breakfast was rough, but Nat enjoyed it greatly. Toussaint remarked that he himself had breakfasted an hour before, and he talked while his guest ate. "It is as well," he said, "that you should be down near the spot where you landed before it is dark, for the track is far too rough to travel after dark. I suppose you have ordered your boat to come to fetch you?" "Yes, I ordered it to be there as soon as it could leave the ship without being seen from the shore; but I hardly thought that I should be able to return this evening, as your messenger told me that your camp was six hours' journey among the hills." "Yes, my camp is there, and I too would like to return before nightfall. There are many who need my care, and I have already been too long away. Now, Monsieur Glover, as to the subject on which I asked you to come to converse with me. We have heard that some of the planters have sent a deputation to Jamaica asking the governor to send troops to take this island for England. We, as you doubtless know, are not for the republic. We call ourselves the royal army, seeing that the National Assembly of France refuse to do anything for us. It is true that their commissioners at Cape François have issued a proclamation offering a free pardon to all who have been concerned in the insurrection, and freedom and equal rights to men of all colour. We do not believe them. The Assembly care nothing for us. They passed a decree giving rights to the mulattoes, but in no way affecting us; and then, directly they found that the mulattoes were exercising their rights, they passed another decree reversing the first. One cannot expect good faith in men like these; they would wait till we had laid down our arms and returned to our plantations, and then they would shoot us down like dogs, just as they are murdering all the best men of their own country and keeping their king a prisoner. Therefore we do not recognize the republic, but are for the king." "I fear there will soon be no king for you to recognize," Nat said; "everything points to the fact that they are determined to murder him, as they have murdered every noble and every good man in the country." "I see that," Toussaint said gravely, "but the number of those who know what is passing in France is small. However, we who do know, and are responsible for the mass who trust in us, must consider what is the best thing to do. Do you think there will be a war between France and England?" "I think that if the king is murdered the indignation in England, which is already intense, will be so great that war is certain." "So much the better for us," Toussaint said. "The more they fight against each other, the less will they be able to pay attention to Hayti; but on the other hand the more likely will it be that the English will endeavour to obtain possession of this island. Now, between the French and the English we have no great choice. We regard ourselves as French; we speak the French language, and have, ever since the colony was first formed, lived under the French flag. Then, on the other hand, the French have been our masters, and we are determined that they shall never again be so. Now as to your people. In their own islands they have slaves just as the French have here, and we have no intention of changing slavery under one set of masters for slavery under another. Now, sir, do you think that if the English were to come here they would guarantee that slavery should never exist again in the island?" "That I cannot say," Nat said. "I cannot answer for what the British parliament would do in that matter. The feeling against slavery is growing very fast in England, and I feel convinced that before long a law will be passed putting a stop altogether to the transportation of negroes from Africa; but whether that feeling will, at any rate for a long time, so gain in strength as to cause parliament to pass a law abolishing slavery altogether in British dominions, is more than I can say. It would be a tremendous step to take. It would mean absolute ruin to our islands; for you know as well as I do that your people are not disposed for work, and would never make steady labourers if allowed to live in their own way. Then you see, were slavery abolished altogether in this island, it would be difficult in the extreme to continue it in others." "But they would not find us as slaves here," Toussaint said. "They would find us a free people, without masters, unattached to any plantation or to any regular toil; we should be like the Caribs in Jamaica. It would be as if they came to a land which foreigners had never visited. They would find a people with arms in their hands, and perfectly capable of defending themselves, but ready to accept the sovereignty of England on the condition that our personal liberty was in no way interfered with." "There is a great deal in what you say, Toussaint, and to-morrow I shall sail for Jamaica and explain exactly the line you take to the admiral. I may say that in coming to see you I do so in accordance with the orders that I received, to ascertain if possible the views of the leaders of this movement." "If these terms are refused," Toussaint went on, "and your people invade the island, we shall leave you and the French to fight it out until we perceive which is the stronger, and as soon as we do so, shall aid the weaker. I do not say that we shall stand aloof up to that time, we shall fight against both, they would be equally our enemies; but if one were so far getting the better of it as to be likely to drive the other out, then in self-defence we should unite our forces against it. I may say that although we and the mulattoes are both fighting against the French, the alliance is not likely to be a long one. We all know that if they got the upper hand they would be far more cruel and more tyrannous than the whites have been. They have ever looked down upon us, and have treated us with far greater contempt than have the whites, who, to do them justice, were kindly masters, and especially treated their house servants well. There will therefore be four parties here all hostile to each other. You and the French will be striving for mastery, we for liberty, the mulattoes for the domination of the island and for their personal interest. The way I have pointed out is, in my opinion, the only one that can bring about peace. If your government and people will give us a solemn undertaking that in no case shall slavery ever be re-established, and that all men shall have equal rights, we will join you heart and soul. When I say equal rights I do not mean that they shall have votes. We are at present absolutely unfit to have votes or to exercise political power. I only mean that the law shall be the same for us as for the whites, that we shall be taxed on the same scale in proportion to our means, that the assembly shall have no power to make separate laws concerning us, and that, should they attempt to make such laws, they should be at once dissolved by the white authorities of the island." "I think your proposal a perfectly fair one, Toussaint, and I have no doubt that any one who has, as I have, a knowledge of the situation here, would not hesitate to accept it. But I doubt whether public opinion at home is ripe for a change that would be denounced by all having an interest in the West Indian Islands, and declared by them to be absolutely destructive to their prosperity. However, you may be assured that I shall represent your offer in the most favourable light. I must ask, however, are you empowered by the other leaders to make it?" "I have talked the matter with François, who is wholly of my opinion," Toussaint said. "It is useless to talk to Biassou; when he is not murdering someone he is drinking; but his opposition would go for little, except among the very worst of our people. He is already regarded with horror and disgust, and you may be assured that his career will ere long come to an end, in which case François and I will share the power between us. At the same time I do not blind myself to the possibility that other leaders may arise. The men of one district know but little of the others, and may elect their own chiefs. Still, I think that if I had the authority to say that the proposal I have made to you had been accepted, I could count on the support of the great majority of the men of my colour, for already they are beginning to find that a life of lawless liberty has its drawbacks. Already we have been obliged to order that a certain amount of work shall be done by every man among the plantations beyond the reach of the towns, in order to ensure a supply of food. "The order has been obeyed, but not very willingly, for there can be no doubt that a portion of the men believed that when they had once got rid of the masters there would be no occasion whatever for any further work, but that they would somehow be supplied with an abundance of all that they required. The sickness that has prevailed has also had its effect. There are few, indeed, here who have any knowledge of medicine, and the poor people have suffered accordingly. When in the plantations they were always well tended in sickness, while here they have had neither shelter nor care. It is all very well to tell them that liberty cannot be obtained without sacrifices, and that it must be a long time before things settle down and each man finds work to do, but the poor people, ignorant as they are, are like children, and think very little of the future. The effect of centuries of slavery will take many years to remedy. For myself, although I believe that we shall finally obtain what we desire, and shall become undisputed masters of the island, I foresee that our troubles are only beginning. We have had no training for self-government. We shall have destroyed the civilization that reigned here, and shall have nothing to take its place, and I dread that instead of progressing we may retrograde until we sink back into the condition in which we lived in Africa." At this moment a negro ran up. "Doctor," he said, "there are a large number of our people close at hand, and I think I can make out Biassou among them." "I fear that we may have some trouble, Monsieur Glover," Toussaint said quietly, "but be assured that I and those with me will maintain my safe-conduct with our lives. Biassou must have arrived at my camp after I left, and he must have heard there that I was going to meet an English officer, and has followed me. He was present when François and I arranged to send a messenger to propose a meeting to you, and he then assented, but as often as not he forgets in the morning what he has agreed to overnight." He went apart and spoke to his men. Twenty of them had accompanied him from his camp, and with the twelve who had formed the escort, and Nat and the sailors, there were in all thirty-eight, and from the quiet way in which they took up their arms Nat had little doubt that they would, if necessary, make a stout fight against Biassou's savages. These arrived in two or three minutes. They had evidently travelled at the top of their speed, for their breath came fast, and they were bathed in sweat. Their aspect was savage in the extreme. Most of them wore some garment or other the spoil of murdered victims, some of them broad Panama-hats, others had women's shawls wrapped round their waists as sashes, some had jackets that were once white, others were naked to the waist. A few had guns, the rest either axes or pikes, and all carried long knives. Conspicuous among them was Biassou himself, a negro of almost gigantic stature and immense strength, to which he owed no small part of his supremacy among his friends. He came on shouting "Treachery! treachery!" words that were re-echoed in a hoarse chorus by his followers, who numbered about a hundred and fifty. At the threatening aspect of the new-comers, Toussaint's men closed up round him, but he signed them to stand back, and quietly awaited the coming of Biassou. The calmness of Toussaint had its effect on Biassou. Instead of rushing at him with his axe, as it had seemed was his intention, he paused and again shouted "Treachery!" "What nonsense are you talking, Biassou?" Toussaint said. "I am carrying out the arrangement to which you and François agreed the other night, and am having an interview with this British officer." "When did I agree to such a thing?" the great negro roared. "Last Friday night we agreed that it was well that we should learn the intentions of the English, and that we should ascertain the position in which we should stand were they to come here." "I remember nothing about it, Toussaint." "That is possible enough," the latter replied. "You know that it is no uncommon thing for you to forget in the morning what was arranged overnight. This officer has come here on my invitation and under my safe-conduct, and no man shall touch him while I live." "It is agreed," Biassou said, "and all have sworn to it, that no white who falls into our hands shall be spared. Such is the case, is it not?" he said to his followers; and they answered with a loud shout and began to press forward. "These men have not fallen into our hands," Toussaint said, "they have come here on our invitation, and, as I have told you, with our safeguard." "It is all very well for you to talk, Toussaint; I know you. You pretend to be with us, but your heart is with the whites, and you are here to conspire with them against us," and he raised his axe as if about to rush forward. "This is madness, Biassou," Toussaint said sternly. "Have we not enough enemies now that we should quarrel among ourselves? You have done enough harm to our cause already by your horrible cruelties, for which every coloured man who falls into the hands of the whites has to suffer severely. Beware how you commence a conflict; you may be more numerous than we are, but we are better armed, and even if you overpowered us in the end, you would suffer heavily before you did so." "I wish you no harm, Toussaint, but for the last time I demand that these white men shall be given up to me." "And for the last time I refuse," Toussaint said; and his men without orders moved up close to him. Biassou stood for a moment irresolute, and then, with a shout to his men to follow him, sprang forward. In an instant Nat threw himself before Toussaint, and when Biassou was within a couple of yards of him threw up his arm and levelled his pistol between the negro's eyes. "Drop that axe," he shouted, "or you are a dead man!" The negro stood like a black statue for an instant. The pistol was but a foot from his face, and he knew that before his uplifted axe could fall he would be a dead man. "Drop it!" Nat repeated. "If you don't before I count three, I fire. One--two--" and the negro's axe fell to the ground. "Stand where you are!" Nat exclaimed, "the slightest movement and I fire! Come up here, men!" The four sailors came up, cutlass in one hand and pistol in the other. "This man is your prisoner," he said. "Keep him between you, one on each side and the other two behind. If he makes the slightest movement to escape, or if the blacks behind approach any nearer, send your four bullets into his brain." The men took up their stations as directed. "Now, Biassou," he went on, lowering his own pistol, "you can continue your conference with Toussaint." [Illustration: "DROP IT!" NAT REPEATED.] "You see, Biassou," Toussaint said, "you have only rendered yourself ridiculous. I repeat what I said before, this officer is here in answer to my invitation sent to him after François and you had agreed that it was advantageous to learn what the objects of the English were. If you question him you will find that it is as I say. We have had our conference, have expressed our views, and he will repeat what I have said to the British governor of Jamaica; and I think that, whatever the result may be, it is well that the English should understand that we have resolved that, whether they or the French are the possessors of this island, slavery is abolished for ever here. He will return at once to the coast, and will then sail direct for Jamaica. Now, if you have any observation to make, I shall be glad to hear it." "I do not doubt what you say," Biassou replied sullenly; "but it must be settled by what François says when we rejoin him." "So be it," Toussaint said. "And now, I pray you, let there be no quarrel between us. I have been forced to withstand you, because I was bound by a sacred promise. Any divisions will be fatal to our cause. For the moment you may be in superior force, but another time those who love and follow me might be the more numerous. You well know that I am as faithful to the cause as you are, and we must both set an example to our followers, that while we may differ as to the methods by which success is to be gained, we are at one in our main object." "I admit that I was wrong," the great negro said frankly. "I drank more than was good for me before I started, and my blood has been heated by the speed with which we followed you. I am sober now, for which I have to thank," he added with a grim smile, "this young officer; though I own that I do not like his method. Let us think no more of it;" and he held out his hand to Toussaint, which the latter took. A shout of satisfaction rose from the negroes on both sides. The determined attitude of Toussaint's men, the fact that they had four whites among them, and that almost all of them had muskets, had cooled the courage of Biassou's followers, who, as soon as their leader was captured, saw that even if they gained the victory, it would be at the cost of at least half their number. There was no prospect of plunder or of any advantage, and they knew that, beloved and respected as Toussaint was, it was very possible that those who did survive the fight would fall victims to the indignation that would be aroused at the news of an attack being made upon him. "Now that it is all settled we may as well be starting for the coast, Toussaint," Nat said. "There is nothing more for us to arrange, and as our presence here might possibly lead to further trouble, the sooner we are off the better." "I will not ask you to stay," the negro said. "I do not think that we shall have any more trouble, but there is no saying. Several of Biassou's men have wine-skins with them, and a quarrel might arise when they had drunk more. I will send you down under the same escort as before." "I do not think that we shall need so many. I should not like to weaken you so far." "There is no fear for me," Toussaint said decidedly. "Arriving in hot blood they might have attacked me, but I am sure they will not do so now. They know well enough that I should be terribly avenged were they to do so. It is quite necessary that you should take as many men as before, for it is possible that some of Biassou's men might steal away and follow you." A few minutes afterwards Nat set out with his men and his guard of twelve blacks. It was still some hours before the time at which he was to be met by the boat. They therefore halted when within a mile of the shore, and there waited until it was dark. Then he went on alone with the four sailors to the beach, and in a few minutes after they arrived there they heard the sound of the oars of the gig. "I am heartily glad to see you back again," Turnbull said as Nat stepped on to the deck. "Lippincott and I have been horribly uneasy about you all day. Did everything go off quietly?" "Yes, except for two or three minutes, when that bloodthirsty scoundrel Biassou came upon the scene with a hundred and fifty of his followers. There was very nearly a shindy then, but it passed off; for he did not like looking down the muzzle of my pistol at a few inches from his head, and my four men made him a prisoner until affairs had taken a friendly turn, which was not long after. For when the leader of a party is a prisoner, and his guards have orders to shoot him instantly if there is any trouble, it is astonishing how quick people are in coming to an understanding." "Yes, I should say so," Turnbull laughed. "However, as it has turned out well, and you have fulfilled your mission, it doesn't matter to us; and I hope that we have now done with this creeping alongshore work." CHAPTER XVII A FRENCH FRIGATE On arriving at Kingston Nat went on board the flag-ship, and reported to the admiral the particulars of his visit to Toussaint. "He is evidently a long-headed fellow," the admiral said, "and from his point of view his proposal is a fair one; but I am afraid our people at home would never give such an undertaking. It would be impossible for us to have one island where the blacks were free, while in all others they would remain slaves. It would be as much as saying to them, 'If you want freedom you must fight for it;' and even if the people at home could bring themselves to pay the immense amount of money that would be required to emancipate the slaves by indemnifying their owners, it would nevertheless be the ruin of the islands, and all connected with them. However, I will take you ashore to the governor, after my clerk has made a copy of your report." "I have made two copies, sir." "All the better. Then we will go at once." The governor heard Nat's story, and received his report. "It is at least satisfactory," he said, "to have learnt from one of themselves what the views of the principal leaders are, and I consider that you have performed your commission exceedingly well, Lieutenant Glover, and, undoubtedly, at a great deal of risk to yourself. As to the matter of the communication, it will of course receive serious attention. It is far too important a business for anyone to give off-hand an opinion upon it. I fancy, sir, that you are likely to have more active work before long, for I think there is no doubt that war will very shortly be declared with France, and her privateers will be swarming about these seas." It was nearly six months before any special incident took place. No vessel had been missing since the capture of the _Agile_, and it was evident that any pirates there might have been among the islands had moved to waters where they could carry on their trade with less interruption. The _Agile_ cruised about among the islands, and although she had a pleasant time, officers and men alike grew impatient at the uneventful nature of their work. Things were but little changed in Hayti. Biassou had been deprived of his command, and it was surmised that he had been murdered, but at any rate he was never heard of again. François and Toussaint commanded, but the former came to be so jealous of Toussaint's popularity that the latter was obliged to retire, and to cross the frontier into the Spanish part of the island. There he was well received, and showed great ability in various actions against the French, with whom Spain was then at war. He and many other negroes had declared for Spain, upon the singular ground that they had always been governed by a king, and preferred to be ruled by the king of Spain rather than by a republic. With only six hundred men Toussaint drove fifteen hundred French out of a strong post which they occupied in the Spanish town of Raphaelita, and afterwards took several other posts and villages. It was for these successes that he gained the name of L'Ouverture, or opener, and the Marquis D'Hermona gave him the rank of lieutenant-general. The three French commissioners had returned to France, and had been succeeded by two others, Santhonax and Poveren, the former a ruffian of the same type as those who were deluging the soil of France with its best blood, and who made themselves odious to both parties by their brutality and greed. At last, at the end of February, 1793, came the news of the execution of the king of France, and the certainty that war was imminent. "Now we shall have more lively times," Turnbull said. "It has been dull enough of late." "There has been nothing to grumble at," the surgeon said. "What would you have? Haven't we been sailing about like gentlemen, with nothing to do but to drink and sleep, and look at the islands, and take things easy altogether?" "Don't you talk, Doyle," Turnbull said, laughing. "There is no one who has grumbled more than yourself." "That is in the cause of science," the Irishman retorted. "How can I ever become a distinguished man, and show what is in me, and make all sorts of discoveries, if there is never a chance that comes in my way? There are my instruments all ready for use, they might as well be at the bottom of the sea. I hone them once a week, and well-nigh shed tears because of the good work they ought to be doing. It is all very well for you, Turnbull, you won't forget how to kill a man when the time comes; but let me tell you that any fellow who doesn't know his A B C can kill a man, whereas it takes a man of science to cure him." "There is a good deal in that, Doyle," Nat said, when the laugh had subsided, "though I don't know that I considered it in that light before; but that, perhaps, is because I have tried one and never tried the other." "It's a fine thing," Doyle said, "to be a surgeon. There you see a man with his legs shot off. If it was not for you he would die. You take him in hand, you amputate a bit higher up, you make him tidy and comfortable, and there he is walking about almost as well as if he had two legs; and although he is not fit for ship service again, he would be as good a man in a fight with a cudgel as ever he was. Now I ask you fairly, what is there that you can do to compare with that?" "Nothing in that way, I must admit," Nat laughed, "Well, you may be having an opportunity of showing your superiority before long. This is just the ground the French privateers are likely to choose. There are plenty of French ports for them to put into, hundreds of bays where they could lie hidden, and lots of shipping to plunder. No doubt they will be thick in the channel and down the straits, but our merchantmen will not think of going there unless in large fleets or under convoy of ships of war; while here, though they might be guarded on their way across the Atlantic, they would have to scatter as soon as they were among the islands. Well, we must look out that we are not caught napping. Of course, until we get news that war is declared we can't fire upon a Frenchman; while if one arrived with the news before we got it, he might sail up close by us and pour in a broadside." "At any rate we are likely to take some prizes," Lippincott said, "for the instant we get the news we can pounce upon any French merchantman." "Yes; those homeward-bound could hardly hear the news as soon as we do, while of those coming out many slow sailers will have left before war is declared, and may not be here for weeks after we hear of it. The great thing will be for us to put ourselves on the main line of traffic. As we have received no special orders we can cruise where we like. I should say that coming from France, they would be likely to keep down the coast of Spain and on to Madeira before they strike across, as in that way they would be altogether out of the line of the Gulf Stream. Then, if they were making for Hayti, they would probably be coming along west on or about the 20th parallel north; while, if making for Guadeloupe or Martinique, they would be some three or four degrees farther south. Probably privateers would follow the same lines, as before commencing operations they would want to take in provisions and water, to learn where our cruisers are likely to be, to pick up pilots, and so on. So I should say that we can cruise about these waters for another fortnight safely, and then go through the Caribbean Islands and cruise some seventy or eighty miles beyond them, carefully avoiding putting into any of our own islands as we pass." "Why should you do that?" Turnbull asked. "Because the chances are that we should find, either at Barbados or St. Lucia or Dominica--or, in fact, at any of the other islands, one of our frigates, or at any rate, some officer senior to me; and in that case, as we have no fixed orders from the admiral, we might be detained or sent off in some direction that might not suit us at all." "Good!" Doyle said. "It is always a safe rule to keep out of the way of a bigger man than yourself. I have always observed that a captain of a man-of-war or of a frigate is sure to be down on small craft, if he gets a chance. It is like a big boy at school fagging a little one; he could do quite as well without him, but it is just a matter of devilment and to show his authority. Heaven protect us against falling in with a frigate. If she were a Frenchman she would sink us; if she were a Britisher she would bully us." They reached the ground on which Nat had decided to cruise. Three days later the look-out at the mast-head shouted "Sail ho!" the words acting like an electric shock to those on deck. "How does it bear?" "About east by north, sir. There are three vessels; I can only see their topsails at present. Two of them are a bit bigger than the third. They look to me to be merchantmen. I should say the other, by the cut of his sails, is a Frenchman." A low cheer broke from the men. "Now, if that fellow brings news that war is declared, we are in luck," Nat said. "Either he is convoying two French merchantmen he has overtaken, or he has two British prizes he has picked up. If they are English, we shall not get so much prize-money; but then we shall have less difficulty with the privateer, if privateer she is, because she must have put a good many of her hands an board the prizes. So we can in either case count upon doing well. At any rate they are not likely to suspect that we are English, being French-built and French-rigged. Even if they have a doubt, they will be satisfied as soon as they see the name on our bows. We will not get up any more sail." "I will go up and have a look at her," Turnbull said; and slinging his glass over his shoulder he went aloft. "I think," he called down, after a long look at them, "that the middle ship is a good deal larger than she looks; and the others are carrying every stitch of canvas, but she has neither royals nor topgallant-sails. Her yards have a wide spread, and I am inclined to think that she is a frigate or a large corvette--certainly a French one. As to the others, I cannot say with certainty, but I rather fancy they are English; in which case she has captured them on the way, and, being much faster than they are, has to go under easy sail to keep with them." "Well, I hope she is not too big for us," Nat said, as Turnbull rejoined him. "What should you call too big, sir?" Turnbull asked with a smile. "Well, I should say that a fifty was too big." "I should think so indeed. A twenty-gun sloop would be a pretty formidable opponent." "Yes, a twenty would about suit us, especially as she may have fifty of her men on board the other craft--that is, if they are her prizes. It is the men that I am more afraid of than the guns. Two to one are no great odds in guns, especially as we generally work ours faster than the French do; but when it comes to a hundred and fifty men or so against forty, it may be very unpleasant if we get a spar knocked away and they come alongside of us. We may as well get the French flag up at once. With a good glass they could make it out a long way off. Let the men have their breakfast, it is a bad thing to fight fasting." The men were not long over their meal; by the time they came on deck again the strangers were within five or six miles. The wind was in the north-east, and the _Agile_ was almost close-hauled, while the others had the wind broad on their quarters. There was now no longer any doubt that the outside vessels were two large British West Indiamen, and the fact that they were in company with what was undoubtedly a French frigate was regarded as absolute proof that war had been declared, and that the French ship of war on her way out to the colonies with the news had overtaken and captured the two British ships, which were probably sailing in company. As they approached, the _Agile_ was luffed up more into the wind in order to pass between the Frenchman and the prize within a few cables' length to starboard of him. "How many guns do you make her out to be, Mr. Lippincott?" "I think that she has eighteen guns on a broadside." "The odds are pretty strongly against us," Nat said; "but we shall have the weather-gauge, that counts for a good deal. Anyhow, we shall be able to annoy her, and possibly, if we hang on to her, the sound of firing will bring up one of our cruisers from Barbuda or Antigua." An awning which was stretched over the quarter-deck had not been taken down, and as the brigantine approached the French frigate, there was no sign that her intentions were not of a peaceable nature. The French ensign floated from the peak, the sailors on deck were lounging about, some with their jackets on, others in their shirts, and only a few with hats on seemed to be watching with idle curiosity the approaching vessels. Nat and the officers retained their uniforms, for as only their heads and shoulders showed over the rail, there was nothing to distinguish them from those of a fine French privateer, for these generally adopted a regular naval dress. The two vessels were but fifty yards apart as they met. Nat sprang on to the rail, and in reply to the hail from the Frenchman, "What ship is that?" raised his cap in salute and shouted: "The _Agile_ of Bordeaux. Have you any news from France, sir?" "Yes, war has been declared with England." [Illustration: NAT SPRANG ON TO THE RAIL.] "Thank you, that is good news indeed," and he leapt down on to the deck. The vessels were both travelling at a speed of about eight knots an hour, and were already passing one another fast, when, as Nat waved his hand, the French flag was run down, an English ensign already fastened to the halyards was simultaneously run up, and a moment later the five guns, which had previously been trained to bear aft and double-shotted, poured their broadside into the quarters of the French frigate. Shouts of surprise and fury rose from her; no thought that the little craft so fearlessly approaching her was an enemy had crossed the mind of any on board, still less that if British she would venture to fire upon so vastly superior a foe. "About ship!" Nat said, the instant the guns had been fired. The sail-trimmers were at their places, the _Agile_ shot up into the wind, her head paid off, and she swept round on the other tack, crossing the stern of the Frenchman, her guns on the starboard side sending their shot in through his stern windows, and raking his whole length as they were brought to bear; then she wore round on her heel, the guns on the larboard side were reloaded, and she again raked the Frenchman. So far not a single shot had been fired in return. The din on board the frigate was prodigious, as the guns had to be cast loose, magazines opened, powder and shot carried up, and the sails trimmed to enable her to bear up so as to show her broadside to her puny foe. Before she could do so the _Agile_, true to her name, was again round. The Frenchmen, confused by the variety of orders issued, were slow at their work, and as their opponent came up into the wind the brigantine was again astern of them, and raked them this time with heavy charges of grape. A chorus of shrieks and cries from the frigate told how terrible was the effect. "By St. Patrick," the surgeon exclaimed to Lippincott, "it is grand! But it looks as if the captain wasn't going to give me a chance, and all me instruments laid out ready for action." "Never mind, doctor, you will be able to practise on the Frenchmen," Lippincott laughed. But the French captain knew his business, and putting his helm over again, ran off the wind, so that the two vessels were now on the same tack, with the _Agile_ on her opponent's quarter. Several of the French guns were now brought to bear, but their discharge was too hurried, and owing to the brigantine lying so much lower in the water, the shot flew between her masts or made holes in her mainsail. In a moment she was round again, and crossed her opponent's stern at a distance of some thirty yards, the word being passed along that the gunners were to aim at the rudder-post and to double-shot the guns. A loud cheer rose as two of the shots struck the mark. The Frenchman replied with a volley of musketry from the marines gathered on her poop. Three of the sailors fell, and several others were hit. The Frenchman was, when the _Agile_ delivered her last broadside, running nearly before the wind, and it was speedily evident that the injury to her rudder had been fatal, for although she attempted by trimming her sails again to bear up, each time she fell off, though not before some of her shot had hulled her active opponent. Seeing, however, that he must now be easily outmanoeuvred, the Frenchman made no further effort to change his course, but continued doggedly on his way, the topmen swarming aloft and shaking out more canvas. The _Agile_ followed the frigate's example, and placing herself on her stern quarter, kept up a steady fire, yawing when necessary to bring all her guns to bear, the French replying occasionally with one of their stern guns. Owing to the accelerated speed at which both vessels were now going, the Indiamen had been left behind. Half an hour later the frigate's mizzen-mast, which had been severely wounded by the first broadside, went over her side. Cheer after cheer rose from the _Agile_; her opponent was now at her mercy. She had but to repeat the tactics with which she had begun the fight. Just as Nat gave the order to do so, musket shots were heard in the distance. The crew of one of the merchantmen had been allowed to remain on deck, as, being under the guns of the frigate, there was no possibility of their attempting to overpower their captors. As soon, however, as it became evident that the frigate was getting the worst of it, they had been hurried below, and the hatches dropped over them. From the port-holes, however, they could obtain a view of what was going on ahead of them, and as soon as they saw the frigate's mast go by the board, they armed themselves with anything that would serve as weapons, managed to push up the after-hatch, and rushed on deck. The prize crew were all clustered forward watching the fight; a shout from the helmsman apprised them of their danger, and they rushed aft. They were, however, less numerous than the British sailors, and no better armed, for, believing that the frigate would easily crush her tiny assailant, they were unprepared to take any part in the fight. The contest was a very short one. Knowing that the frigate was crippled, and that the brigantine would soon be free to return to them, the Frenchmen saw that they must eventually be taken, and the officer in command being knocked senseless with a belaying-pin, they threw down their knives and surrendered. The other Indiaman at once put down her helm on seeing that the British flag was being run up on her consort. "We must not let that fellow get away," Nat said; "we can leave the frigate alone for half an hour. We will give him two more broadsides with grape through his stern windows, and then bear up after that lumbering merchantman. We shall be alongside in half an hour." In less than that time they were within pistol-shot of the West Indiaman, and the prize crew at once hauled down their flag. The _Agile_ went alongside, released the prisoners, who had been securely fastened in the hold, and replaced them by the French crew. The Indiaman's officers had been allowed to remain on deck. "Now, captain," Nat said to the English master, "please keep every sail full and follow us. It will not be long before we settle with the frigate, and we shall then run down to Barbados." The master, who was greatly surprised at the youth of the officer who had so ably handled his ship against an immensely superior foe, said: "Allow me to congratulate you on the splendid way in which you have handled your vessel. I could scarcely believe my eyes when you opened fire on the frigate. It seemed impossible that you should have thought of really engaging such an opponent." "You see, we had the weather gauge of her, captain, and the brigantine is both fast and handy. But I must be off now before they have time to get into fighting trim again." In another half-hour he was in his old position under the frigate's quarter, and was preparing to resume his former tactics, when the French flag fluttered down amid the cheers of the _Agile's_ crew, which were faintly repeated by the two merchantmen a mile astern. "I am heartily glad that they have surrendered," Nat said to Turnbull; "it would have been a mere massacre if they had been obstinate. Now, will you go on board and see what state she is in. Do not accept the officers' swords. They have done all that they could, but they really never had a chance after we had once got in the right position. Order all unwounded men below. As soon as you return with your report as to the state of things, I will send you off again with twenty men to take command. You had better bring the officers back with you. Mr. Lippincott, hoist a signal to the merchantmen to lie to as soon as they get abreast of us." Mr. Turnbull returned in twenty minutes. "It is an awful sight," he said. "The captain and the two senior lieutenants are killed, and it was the third lieutenant who ordered the flag to be lowered. Her name is the _Spartane_. She carried a crew of three hundred men, of whom fifty were on board her prizes. She has lost ninety killed, and there are nearly as many more wounded, of whom at least half are hit with grape, and I fancy few of them will recover; the others are splinter wounds, some of them very bad. There are two surgeons at work. I told them that ours would come to their assistance as soon as he had done with our own wounded." The third lieutenant and three midshipmen, who were the sole survivors of the officers of the _Spartane_, soon came on board. "Gentlemen," Nat said, "I am sorry for your misfortune, but assuredly you have nothing to reproach yourselves with. You did all that brave men could do, and did not lower your flag until further resistance would have been a crime against humanity." The officers bowed; they were too much depressed to reply. Their mortification was great at being overpowered by a vessel so much inferior in strength to their own, and the feeling was increased now by seeing that their conqueror was a lad no older than the senior of the midshipmen. Turnbull's cabin was at once allotted to the lieutenant, and a large spare cabin to the midshipmen. Leaving Lippincott in charge, with ten men, Nat went with Turnbull and the doctor on board the frigate, and the boat went back to fetch the rest of the crew. The merchantmen had been signalled to send as many men as they could spare on board the frigate, and not until these arrived did Nat feel comfortable. Of his own crew three had been killed and ten wounded; three of these were fit for duty, and formed part of Lippincott's party, and the twenty he had with him seemed lost on board the frigate. Although Turnbull had had hawsers coiled over the hatches, the thought that there were nearly a hundred prisoners there, and that there were enough comparatively slightly wounded to overpower the two men placed as sentries over each hatchway, was a very unpleasant one. The arrival, however, of thirty of the merchant sailors, armed to the teeth, altered the position of affairs. The first duty was to clear the decks of the dead. These were hastily sewn up in their own hammocks, with a couple of round shot at their feet, and then launched overboard. Those of the wounded able to walk were then mustered, and one of the French surgeons bandaged all the less serious wounds. After being supplied with a drink of wine and water, they were taken below, and placed with their companions in the hold. Then the wreck of the mizzen was cut away, and the frigate was taken in tow by the _Agile_, her own sails being left standing to relieve the strain on the hawsers. The two merchantmen were signalled to reduce sail, and to follow, and on no account to lose sight of the stern light of the frigate after it became dusk. Nat returned, with four of his crew, to the _Agile_, and four days later towed the _Spartane_ into the anchorage off Bridgetown, the chief port of Barbados, the two West Indiamen following. The _Isis_, a fine fifty-gun frigate, was lying there. She had arrived on the previous day, having been despatched with the news of the outbreak of war. As her captain was evidently the senior officer on the station, Nat was rowed on board. "Are you the officer in command of that brigantine?" the captain asked in surprise. "Yes, sir; my name is Glover." "Well, Lieutenant Glover, what part did your ship bear in the fight with that Frenchman? I see by her sails that she was engaged. Whom had you with you?" "We were alone, sir." "What!" the captain said, incredulously, "do you mean to say that, with that little ten-gun craft, you captured a thirty-six-gun frigate single-handed?" "That is so, sir." "Well, I congratulate you on it heartily," the captain exclaimed, shaking Nat by the hand with great cordiality. "You must tell me all about it. It is an extraordinary feat. How many men do you carry?" "We have forty seamen, sir, and two petty officers." "And what are your casualties?" "Three killed and ten wounded." "What were the casualties of the Frenchmen?" "Ninety killed, including the captain and the first and second lieutenants and five midshipmen, and eighty-three wounded." "And how many prisoners?" "In all, a hundred and thirty, sir, of whom five-and-twenty are on board each of those merchantmen, which had been captured by the frigate. The crew of one rose and mastered their captors as soon as they saw the frigate's mizzen-mast fall, and knew that we must take her. The prize crew in the other struck their flag as soon as we came within pistol-shot of her. I shall be glad to receive orders from you as to the disposal of the prisoners. I have had thirty men from the merchantmen on board the _Spartane_, for I could spare so few men that the prisoners might, without their assistance, have retaken her." "I will go ashore with you presently and see the governor, and ask whether he can take charge of them. If he cannot, you can hand over the greater part of them to me. I shall sail for Jamaica this evening. As to the prize, I should advise you to see if you cannot get some spars and rig a jury-mast; there are sure to be some in the dockyard. While that is being done you can go through the formalities of inspecting the Indiamen, for whose salvage you will get a very handsome sum. At any rate, if I were you I should keep them here until I was ready to sail, and then go with them and your prize to Kingston. I should go in in procession, as you did here. It is a thing that you have a right to be proud of." "We need lose no time about the mast, sir. We stripped the gear off and got it on board the _Spartane_, and towed her mast behind her, thinking that perhaps we might not get a suitable spar here. Of course the lower mast will be short, but that will matter comparatively little. What is more serious is that her rudder is smashed." "I doubt whether you can get that remedied here. I should advise you to rig out a temporary rudder. I'll tell you what I will do--I will send a couple of hundred men on board at once under my second officer. That will make short work of it, and I am sure that there is not a man on board who would not be glad to lend a hand in fitting up a prize that has been so gallantly won." He called his officers, who had been standing apart during this conversation, and introduced Nat to them, saying: "Gentlemen, I never heard Lieutenant Glover's name until a few minutes ago, but I can with confidence tell you that no more gallant officer is to be found in the service; and when I say that, with that little ten-gun brigantine and a crew of forty men, he engaged the French frigate that you see behind her and forced her to strike, after a fight in which she had a hundred and seventy men killed or wounded, that he took a hundred and thirty prisoners, and recaptured those two West Indiamen which were her prizes, I think you will all agree that I am not exaggerating. He is naturally very anxious to be off. The frigate's mizzen-mast is lying astern of her, and will make an excellent jury-mast, as all the gear is on board, and only requires shortening. Her rudder is smashed, and a temporary one must be rigged up; and, knowing that all on board will be ready and glad to help when they hear what I have told you, I am going to send two hundred men off at once to lend a hand. Will you take command, Mr. Lowcock? You will take with you, of course, the boatswain and his mates and the carpenters." "I should be glad to go too, sir," the first lieutenant said. "You and I will go together, Mr. Ferguson, after we have had a glass of wine and heard from Mr. Glover the details of this singular action." The order was at once given to lower the boats. The story that the French frigate and her two prizes had been captured single-handed by the brigantine speedily circulated, and the men hastened into the boats with alacrity. With them went the surgeon and his assistant to see if they could be of any help on board, while the captain, his first lieutenant, and Nat went into the cabin, and the latter related the details of the action. "Skilfully managed indeed, Mr. Glover!" the captain said when he had finished; "no one could have done better. It was fortunate indeed that your little craft was so fast and handy, for if that frigate had brought her guns to bear fully upon her she ought to have been able to fairly blow you out of the water with a single broadside. May I ask if this is your first action?" "No, sir; I was in a tender of the _Orpheus_ frigate when she captured a very strong pirate's hold near the port of Barcela in Caracas, destroying the place and capturing or blowing up three of their ships." "I remember the affair," the captain said, "and a very gallant one it was; for, if I am right, the frigate could not get into the entrance, but landed her men, captured two of the pirates' batteries, and turned the guns on their ships, while a schooner she had captured a few days before sailed right in and engaged them, and was nearly destroyed when one of the pirates blew up. The officer in command of her was killed, and a midshipman was very highly spoken of, for he succeeded to the command, and gallantly went on board another pirate and drowned their magazine." "Much more was said about it than necessary," Nat said. The captain looked surprised. "By the way," the lieutenant broke in, "I remember the name now. Are you the Mr. Glover mentioned in the despatches?" "Yes, sir; but, as I said, the captain was good enough to make more of the affair than it deserved." "I expect that he was the best judge of that," the captain said. "Well, after that?" "After that, sir, I had the command of a little four-gun schooner which was cruising along the coast of Hayti to pick up fugitives, when I came across the brigantine I now command in the act of plundering a merchantman she had just captured. She left her prize and followed me. I was faster and more weatherly than she was, and having had the luck to smash the jaws of her gaff after a running fight of seven or eight miles, was able to get back to the prize and recapture her before the pirate came up. The crew of the prize came up and manned their guns, and between us we engaged the brigantine and carried her by boarding. On taking her into Kingston the admiral gave me the command, and raised my crew from twenty to forty. We have now been cruising for four or five months, but not until we sighted the frigate and her prizes have we had the luck to fall in with an enemy." "Well, sir," the captain said, "even admitting that you have had some luck, there is no question that you have utilized your opportunities and have an extraordinary record, and if you don't get shot I prophesy that you will be an admiral before many officers old enough to be your father. Now, I am sure you must be anxious to get on board your prize as soon as possible, so we will take you to her at once." In a few minutes they were on the deck of the _Spartane_. It was a scene of extraordinary activity. The lower mast had already been parbuckled on to the deck, where sheer-legs had been erected by another party. The mast was soon in its place, and the wedges driven in, the shrouds had been shortened, and men were engaged in tightening the lanyards. The topmast was on deck ready to be hoisted. The carpenters were busy constructing a temporary rudder with a long spar, to one end of which planks were being fixed, so that it looked like a gigantic paddle. As soon as this was completed, the other end of the spar was lashed to the taffrail. Strong hawsers were then to be fastened to the paddle, and brought in one on each quarter and attached to the drum of the wheel. "Now, Mr. Glover," the captain said, after watching the work for some little time, "I will go ashore with you to the governor; you ought to pay your respects to him. Fortunately you will not require any assistance from him, for unless I am greatly mistaken these jobs will be finished this evening; the masts and rigging will certainly be fixed before dusk, and the carpenters must stick to their job till it is done. Like all make-shifts, it will not be so good as the original, but I think it will serve your turn, for there is little likelihood of bad weather at this time of year. I suppose you intend to keep the merchant seamen on board? If not, I will spare you some hands." "I am much obliged, sir, but I think we shall do very well. It is a fine reaching wind, and we shall scarcely have to handle a sail between this and Jamaica." "Very well, I understand your feeling, you would like to finish your business without help. That is very natural; I should do the same in your place." "How about the merchantman's papers, sir?" "I shall tell the governor that I have ordered them to be taken to Kingston, where there is a regular prize court, and therefore it will not be necessary to trouble with their manifests here." "Then, if I have your permission, captain, I will row off to them at once and tell them to get under sail now; we shall overhaul them long before they get to Jamaica. They mount between them six-and-twenty guns, and, keeping together, no French privateer, if any have arrived, would venture to attack them, especially as they cannot have received news yet that war is declared." "I think that would be a very good plan," the captain said, "for if you were to start with them it is clear that you would only be able to go under half sail. It is evident by your account that you are faster than the frigate, but with a reaching wind I suppose there is not more than a knot between you, and if the wind freshens you would find it hard to keep up with her." The visit was paid. The governor agreed that it would be better that the Indiamen should sail at once. Indeed, they had already started, and were two or three miles away before Nat and the captain arrived at the governor's house. When on shore Nat ordered two or three barrels of rum to be sent off in another boat to the frigate, and on its arrival an allowance was served out to all the workers. Before nightfall, save that the mizzen-mast was some twenty feet lower than usual, and that her stern and quarters were patched in numerous places with tarred canvas, the _Spartane_ presented her former appearance. When the majority of the crew had finished their work, the prisoners were transferred to the _Isis_. Two hours later the carpenters and boatswain's party had securely fixed the temporary rudder, and at daybreak the next morning the two frigates and the brigantine started on their westward voyage. CHAPTER XVIII ANOTHER ENGAGEMENT The three vessels kept company until, on the third day after sailing, they overtook the two merchantmen. Nat, supposing that the _Isis_ would now leave them, went on board to thank the captain for the great assistance that he had given him. "I shall stay with you now, Mr. Glover. The news of the outbreak of war will be known at Jamaica by this time, for the despatches were sent off on the day before we sailed from home, by the _Fleetwing_, which is the fastest corvette in the service. She was to touch at Antigua and then go straight on to Port Royal. I was to carry the news to Barbados, so that it does not make any difference whether I reach Kingston two hours earlier or later. There is a possibility that the French may have sent ships off even before they declared war with us, and as it is certain that there are several war-ships of theirs out here, one of these might fall in with you before you reach Jamaica. Therefore as my orders are simply to report myself to the admiral at Kingston, I think it is quite in accordance with my duty that I should continue to sail in company with you." "Thank you, sir. There certainly is at least one French frigate in the bay of Hayti, and if she has received the news she is quite likely to endeavour to pick up some prizes before it is generally known, just as the _Spartane_ picked up those merchantmen, and though possibly we might beat her off, I should very much prefer to be let alone." "Yes, you have done enough for one trip, and I should much regret were you to be deprived of any of your captures." The _Agile_ was signalled to prepare to pick up her boat, and Nat was soon on board his own craft again. He ran up to within speaking distance of the _Spartane_, and shouted to Turnbull that the _Isis_ was going to remain in company with them. Turnbull waved his hand, for although he had not entertained any fear of their being attacked, he felt nervous at his responsibility if a sudden gale should spring up and the temporary rudder be carried away. It was a comfort to him to know that, should this happen, the _Isis_ would doubtless take him in tow, for in anything like a wind the _Agile_ would be of little use. However, the weather continued fine, and in five days after leaving Barbados they entered Kingston harbour. Three hours before, the _Isis_ had spread all sail, and entered, dropping anchor half an hour before the _Agile_ sailed in in charge of the three large ships. The brigantine was heartily cheered by the crews of all the vessels in port, but it was naturally supposed that it was the _Isis_ that had done the principal work in capturing the _Spartane_. Her captain, however, had rowed to the flag-ship directly they came in port, leaving Mr. Ferguson to see to the _Spartane_ being anchored, and had given him a brief account of the nature of the procession that was approaching three or four miles away. "He is a most extraordinary young officer," the admiral said. "He first distinguished himself nearly three years ago by rescuing the daughter of a planter in Hayti, who was attacked by a fierce hound, and who would have been killed had he not run up. He was very seriously hurt, but managed to despatch the animal with his dirk. Since that time he has been constantly engaged in different adventures. He was in that desperate fight when the _Orpheus_ broke up a notorious horde of pirates on the mainland, and distinguished himself greatly. He was up country in Hayti when the negroes rose, and he there saved from the blacks a lady and her daughter, the same girl that he had rescued from the dog, and shot eight of the villains, but had one of his ribs broken by a ball. In spite of that, he carried the lady, who was ill with fever, some thirty miles across a rough country down to Cape François in a litter. "Then I gave him the command of a little cockle-shell of a schooner mounting four guns, carrying only twenty men. Hearing of a planter and his family in the hands of the blacks, he landed the whole of his crew, while expecting himself to be attacked by boats, and rescued the planter, three ladies, and six white men, and got them down on board, although opposed by three hundred negroes. Then he captured the brigantine he now commands, and a valuable prize that she had taken, and you say he has now captured a French thirty-six-gun frigate, after a fight in which she lost in killed and wounded half her crew, and recovered two Indiamen she had picked up on her way out." They went out on the quarter-deck, where the admiral repeated to his officers the story that he had just heard, and from them it soon circulated round the ship. Some of the crew had just cleaned the guns with which they had returned the salute fired by the _Isis_ as she entered the port on arriving for the first time on the station, but they were scarcely surprised when, as the brigantine approached, the first lieutenant gave the order for ten more blank cartridges to be brought up, and for the crew to prepare to man the yards. But the surprise of those on board the other ships of war and the merchantmen was great when they saw the sailors swarming up the ratlines and running out on the yards. "It is an unusual thing," the admiral remarked to the captains of the _Isis_ and his own ship, "and possibly contrary to the rules of the service, but I think the occasion excuses it." The brigantine did not salute as she came into the port, as she was considered to be on the station. "What can they be doing on board the flag-ship?" Nat said to Lippincott. "I think they are going to man the yards. It is not the king's birthday, or anything of that sort, that I know of; but as it is just eight bells it must be something of the kind." As they came nearly abreast of the flag-ship, the signal, "Well done, _Agile_!" was run up, and at the same moment there was a burst of white smoke, and a thundering report, and a tremendous cheer rose from the seamen on the yards. "They are saluting us, sir," Lippincott exclaimed. The ensign had been dipped in salute to the flag, and the salute had been acknowledged by the admiral five minutes before. Lippincott now sprang to the stern, and again lowered the ensign. The admiral and all his officers were on their quarter-deck, and as he raised his cocked hat the others stood bareheaded. Nat uncovered. He was so moved that he had difficulty in keeping back his tears, and he felt a deep relief when the last gun had fired, and the cheers given by his own handful of men and by those on board the prizes had ceased. For the next quarter of an hour he was occupied in seeing that the four vessels were anchored in safe berths. Then, as the signal for him to go on board the flag-ship was hoisted, he reluctantly took his place in the gig, and went to make his report. The admiral saw by his pale face that he was completely unnerved, and at once took him into his cabin. "I see, Mr. Glover," he began kindly, "that you would much rather that I did not say anything to you at present. The welcome that has been given to you speaks more than any words could do of our appreciation of your gallant feat. I do not say that you have taken the first prize since war was declared, for it is probable that other captures have been made nearer home, but at any rate, it is the first that has been made in these waters. I was surprised indeed when Captain Talbot told me that he had a hundred French prisoners on board, and some fifty wounded. As he had not the mark of a shot either in his sails or in his hull, I could not understand, until he gave me an outline of what had taken place--of how he had become possessed of them. Is your prize much injured?" "She has a good many shot-holes on each quarter, sir, and the stern lights and fittings are all knocked away. She suffered no very serious damage. She requires a new mizzen-mast; but there is not a hole in her canvas, which is all new, for we fired only at the stern, and it was just below the deck that her mast was damaged." "You have, I hope, written a full report of the engagement?" Nat handed in his report. It was very short, merely stating that, having fallen in with the thirty-six-gun French frigate the _Spartane_, convoying two prizes, he had engaged her, and after placing himself on her quarter, had raked her until her mizzen-mast fell, and her rudder was smashed; that, seeing that she could not get away, he had then returned to the prizes, which turned out to be the _Jane_ of Liverpool, of eight hundred tons burden, and the _Flora_ of London, of nine hundred and thirty. The crew of the latter, on seeing that the _Spartane_ was crippled, had risen and overpowered the prize crew. The other struck her colours when he came up to her. He then returned to the _Spartane_, which struck her flag without further resistance. "I desire to bring to your notice the great assistance I received from Lieutenant Turnbull, whom I afterwards placed in charge of the prize, and from Mr. Lippincott. It is also my duty to mention that assistant-surgeon Doyle has been indefatigable in his attentions to my own wounded and those of the _Spartane_." Then followed the list of his own casualties, and those of the _Spartane_. "A very official report, Mr. Glover," the admiral said with a smile, when he had glanced through it. "However, the admiralty will wish to know the details of an action of so exceptional a character, and I must therefore ask you to send me in as complete an account of the affair as possible, both for my own information and theirs. Now, I think you had better take a glass of wine. I can see that you really need one, and you will have to receive the congratulations of my officers. By the way, do you know anything of the cargoes of the two ships you retook?" "No, sir, I have really not had time to enquire. Till we left Barbados I was constantly employed, and on my way out I have kept close to the _Spartane_ in order to be able to assist at once if anything went wrong with the steering-gear. I should wish to say, sir, that I feel under the deepest obligations to Captain Talbot for the great assistance that he and his crew have rendered me in getting up the jury-mast, and fitting up the temporary rudder. Had it not been for that I might have been detained for some time at Barbados." Having drunk a glass of wine, Nat went out with the admiral on to the quarter-deck. The officers pressed round, shook hands, and congratulated him. It did not last long, for the admiral said kindly: "The sound of our cannon, gentlemen, has had a much greater effect upon Mr. Glover's nerves than had those of his prize, and I think we must let him off without any further congratulations for to-day. Besides, he has a long report to write for me, and a good many other things to see to." Nat was glad indeed to take his place in the gig, and to return to the _Agile_. He spent two hours in writing his report in duplicate. When he had done this he went ashore to the prize agent to enquire what formalities were needed with regard to the recaptured merchantmen; and having signed some official papers, he went up to Monsieur Duchesne's. Monsieur Pickard and his family had sailed months before for England, but the Duchesnes were still in possession of the house they had hired. They enjoyed, they said, so much the feeling of rest and security that they were by no means anxious for a sea voyage; and indeed Madame Duchesne was still far from well, and her husband was reluctant to take her to the cold climate of England until summer had well set in. "Ah, my dear Nat," Madame Duchesne said, "we were hoping that you would be able to spare time to call to-day. My husband would have gone off to see you, but he knew that you had a great deal to do. All the town is talking of your capture of the French frigate, and the recapture of the two prizes that she had taken. Several of our friends have come in to tell us about it; but of course we were not surprised, for your capturing the frigate with the _Agile_ was no more wonderful than your taking the _Agile_ with the _Arrow_." "It was a lucky affair altogether, Madame Duchesne." "I knew that you would say so," Myra said indignantly. "Whatever you do you always say it is luck, as if luck could do everything. I have no patience with you." "I will endeavour not to use the word again in your presence, Myra," Nat laughed. "But I have no time for an argument to-day, I have only just run in for a flying visit to see how you are. I have no end of things to see to, and I suppose it will be some days before all the business of the prizes is finished, the frigate formally handed over, and the value of the Indiamen and their cargo estimated. However, as soon as I am at all free I will come in for a long talk. You know that there is nowhere that I feel so happy and at home as I do here." It was indeed three days before he had time to pay another visit. "It is too bad of you, not coming to dinner," Myra said as he entered. "We really did expect you." "I hoped that I should be able to get here in time, but ever since I saw you I have been going backwards and forwards between the ships and the shore, calling at the dockyard and prize court. To-day there has been a regular survey of the Spartane. They were so long over it that I began to think I should not be able to get away at all." "You will be becoming quite a millionaire," Monsieur Duchesne said, "if you go on like this." "Well, you see, we were lucky--I beg your pardon, Myra--I mean we were fortunate. We had a very small crew on board the _Arrow_, and as it was an independent command, the whole of the prize-money for the capture of the _Agile_ and her prize was divided among us, with the exception of the flag share; and I found, to my surprise, that my share came to £2500. Without knowing anything of the cargoes of the prizes that I have recaptured now, and what will be paid for the _Spartane_, I should think that my share would come to twice as much this time, so that I shall be able before long to retire into private life--that is, if I have any inclination to do so." "But I suppose," Madame Duchesne said, "that if you marry you will want to settle down." "I am too young to think of such a matter, madame," Nat laughed. "Why, I am only just nineteen, and it will be quite soon enough to think of that in another eight or ten years. But there is no doubt that when the time comes I shall give up the sea. I don't think it is fair to a wife to leave her at home while you are running the risk of being shot. It is bad enough for her in time of peace, but in war-time it must be terrible for her, and it strikes me that this war is likely to be a long one. It seems to me that it is a question for a man to ask himself, whether he loves his profession or a woman better. If he cares more for the sea, he should remain single; if he thinks more of the woman, let him settle down with her." "That sounds very wise," Monsieur Duchesne said with a smile, "but when the time comes for the choice I fancy that most men do not accept either alternative, but marry and still go to sea." "That is all right when they have only their profession to depend upon," Nat said. "Then, if a woman, with her eyes open to the fact that he must be away from her for months, is ready to take a man for better or for worse, I suppose the temptation is too strong to be withstood. Happily it won't be put in my way, for even if I never take another ship I shall have enough to live on quietly ashore." "Now, you must tell us the story of the fight," Myra said. "The story is told in twenty words," he replied. "She did not suspect that we were an enemy until we had passed her, and our broadside told her what we were. As the _Agile_ is faster and much more handy than the frigate, we managed to keep astern of her, and, sailing backwards and forwards, poured our broadsides in her stern, while she could scarce get a gun to bear on us. We managed to cripple her rudder, and after this the fight was virtually over. However, she kept her flag flying till we shot away her mizzen, after which, seeing that she was at our mercy, and that her captain, two lieutenants, and more than half her crew were killed or wounded, she lowered her colours. Now, really that is the whole account of the fight. If I were telling a sailor, who would understand the nautical terms, I could explain the matter more clearly, but if I were to talk for an hour you would understand no more about it than you do now." An hour later, Nat went out with Monsieur Duchesne to smoke a cigar on the verandah, Myra remaining indoors with her mother, who was afraid of sitting out in the cool evening breeze. "Going back to our conversation about marriage, Nat," Monsieur Duchesne said, "it is a question which my wife and I feel some little interest in. You see, it is now more than three years since you saved Myra's life, after which you rendered her and my wife inestimable service. Now, I know that in your country marriages are for the most part arranged between the young people themselves. With us such an arrangement would be considered indecent. If your father and mother were out here, the usual course would be for your mother to approach my wife and talk the matter over with her. My wife would consult with me, and finally, when we old people had quite come to an understanding, your father would speak to you on the subject. All this is impossible here. Now, it seems to my wife and myself that, having rendered such inestimable services to us, and having been thrown with my daughter a good deal--who, I may say, without any undue vanity, is a very attractive young lady--you could scarcely be indifferent to her. "As you said, according to your British notions you are too young to think of marrying; and, at any rate, my wife has sounded Myra, and the girl has assured her that you have never said a word to her that would lead her to believe you entertained other than what I may call a brotherly affection for her. Now, I can tell you frankly, that one of our reasons for remaining here for the past six months has been that we desired that the matter should be arranged one way or the other. It has struck us that it was not your youth only that prevented you from coming to me and asking for Myra's hand, but a foolish idea that she is, as is undoubtedly the case, a very rich heiress. Before I go farther, may I ask if that is the case, and if you really entertain such an affection for my daughter as would, putting aside all question of money and of your youth, lead you to ask her hand?" "That I can answer at once, sir. Ever since I first met her, and especially since I saw how bravely she supported that terrible time when she might fall into the hands of the blacks, I have thought of your daughter as the most charming girl that I have ever met. Of course, I was but a lad and she a young girl--no thought of marriage at that time even entered my mind. During the past three years that feeling has grown, until I have found that my happiness depends entirely upon her. I felt, monsieur, that my lips were sealed, not only by the fact that she was an heiress and I only a penniless lieutenant, but because it would be most unfair and ungenerous were I, on the strength of any services I may have rendered, to ask you for her hand." "It is not on account of those services, much as we recognize them, that I offer you her hand, but because both her mother and herself feel that her happiness, which is the great object of our lives, is involved in the matter. In most cases, a young lady well brought up does not give her heart until her father presents to her an eligible suitor. This is an exceptional case. I do think that any girl whose life had been saved, as hers was, at the risk of that of her rescuer, and who, during a most terrible time, came to look up to him as the protector of herself and her mother, and who, moreover, was constantly hearing of his daring actions, and to whom her dearest friends also owed their lives, could not but make him her hero. I need not say that the subject has not been mooted to her, and it was because I desired the matter to be settled before we left for Europe that we have lingered here. I am glad indeed that I now know your feeling in the matter. I am conscious that in giving her to you we are securing her happiness. I have, of course, ever since the day when you saved her from that dog, watched your character very closely, and the result has been in all respects satisfactory. Now, I will go in and tell her that I will take her place by her mother's side, and that she may as well come out here and keep you company." In a minute Myra stepped out on to the verandah. "It is cool and nice here, Nat. I think it would do mother more good out here than keeping in the house, where in the first place it is hot, while in the second place it gives me the horrors to see the way the moths and things fly into the lights and burn themselves to death." "No doubt it is pleasanter here," Nat said, wondering how he ought to begin. "That was very soberly said, Nat," Myra laughed. "One would think that it was a proposition that required a good deal of consideration." "It was a proposition that received no consideration. In point of fact, just at present, dear, my head is a little turned with a conversation that I have just had with your father." "What do you mean?" she asked. "I mean that I see before me a great and unlooked-for happiness, a happiness that I had hardly ventured even to hope for, but at present it is incomplete; it is for you to crown it if you can do so. Your father has given his consent to my telling you that I love you. I do love you truly and earnestly, Myra, but I should not be content with anything less than your love. I don't want it to be gratitude. I don't want any thought of that business with the dog, or of the other business with the blacks, to have anything to do with it." "They must have something to do with it," she said softly, "for it was owing to these that I first began to love you. It was at first, no doubt, a girl's love for one who had done so much for her, but since then it has become a woman's love for the one man that she should choose out of all. I love you, Nat, I love you with all my heart." Ten minutes later they went hand in hand into the house. Monsieur Duchesne had told his wife what had occurred in the verandah, and as they came in she rose and threw her arms round Myra's neck and kissed her tenderly. "You have chosen wisely, my child, and have made us both very happy. We can give her to you, Monsieur Glover, without one misgiving; we know that in your hands her life will be a happy one. And now," she went on with a smile, "you will have to face that terrible problem you were discussing an hour since. You will have to choose between a wife and the sea." "The problem may be settled at once, madame," Nat said with a smile. "At any rate, there is no occasion to choose at present," Madame Duchesne went on. "Myra is but just past sixteen, and her father and I both think that it is as well that you should wait at least a couple of years before there is any talk of marriage, both for her sake and yours. After your brilliant services, especially in capturing the frigate, you are sure of rapid promotion, and it would be a pity indeed for you to give up your profession until you have obtained the rank of captain, when you could honourably retire. We shall leave for England very shortly, France is out of the question. As you said, you and my daughter are both young, and can well afford to wait." "That is so, madame, we quite acquiesce in your decision. As to your going to England, it is likely that I may be going there myself very shortly. The admiral hinted to-day that, as the dockyard people say that the _Spartane_ can be ready for sea in ten days or so, he will probably send me home in her. He very kindly kept back my report of the action, and merely stated that the French frigate _Spartane_ had been brought in in tow by his majesty's brigantine _Agile_, together with two merchantmen she had captured on her way out, which had also been retaken by the _Agile_, and said that he thought it was only fair that I should carry back my own report and his full despatch on the subject. Of course I may be sent out again, or I may be employed on other service. At any rate I shall be able to get a short leave before I go to sea again. I have been out here now six years, and feel entitled to a little rest. I would certainly rather be employed in the Mediterranean than here, for there is more chance of seeing real service." The next day Nat received an order from the admiral to hand over the command of the _Agile_ to Lieutenant Turnbull. Lippincott, who would pass his examination and receive his step, was to act as first lieutenant, and a midshipman from one of the ships on the station was to be second officer. Nat himself was ordered to superintend the repairs and fitting out for sea of the _Spartane._ "I am awfully sorry that you are going, Glover," Turnbull said. "Of course it is a great pull for me being appointed to the command, but I was very jolly and happy as I was. I don't think there ever was a pleasanter party on board one of his majesty's ships. However, of course it is a great lift for me. I shall try to keep things going as comfortably as you did." "I have no doubt that you will do that, Turnbull, and you have an able ally in Doyle." "Doyle was inconsolable when I came on board yesterday and told him that you were going home in the _Spartane_, and that I was to have the command." "It is the worst news that I have heard for many a day," Doyle had said. "You are very well, Turnbull, and I have no sort of complaint to make of you, but I am afraid that the luck will go with Glover. It is his luck and not the ship's; whatever he has put his hand to has turned out well. I don't say that he has not done his work as well as it could be done, but there is no doubt that luck is everything. If one of the _Agile's_ guns had knocked away a mast or spar from the _Arrow_ it would have been all up with you; and again, had a shot from the frigate crippled us, she would have been after taking the _Agile_ into a French port instead of our bringing her in here." "Yes, but then you see that upon both occasions Glover put his craft where it was difficult to get their guns to bear on her." "Yes, yes, I know that; but that does not alter it a bit. If there had been only one shot fired, and had we been an unlucky boat, it would, sure enough, have brought one of the spars about our ears." "Well, Doyle, it may be that it was my luck, and not Glover's, that pulled us through. You see, I should have been shot or had my throat cut by the pirates if we had been taken by them, so possibly I am the good genius of the boat; or it may be Lippincott." "Botheration to you!" the Irishman said, as he saw by a twinkle in Turnbull's eye that he was really chaffing him; "there is one thing certain, if you get wounded and fall into my hands, you will not regard that as a matter of luck." "Well, at any rate, doctor, Glover told me half an hour ago of a piece of luck in which none of us here can share. He is engaged to that very pretty French girl whom he is always calling on when we are in port." "I thought that was what would come of it, Turnbull," Lippincott said; "it would be rum if she hadn't fallen in love with him after all that he did for her." "I was greatly taken with her myself," the doctor said, "the first time she came on board, but I saw with half an eye that the race was lost before I had time to enter. Besides, I could not afford to marry without money, and one of these poor devils of planters, who have had to run away from Hayti with, for the most part, just the clothes they stood up in, would hardly make the father-in-law yours faithfully would desire. I wonder myself how they manage to keep up such a fine establishment here, but I suppose they had a little put away in an old stocking, and are just running through it. They are shiftless people, are these planters, and, having been always used to luxuries, don't know the value of money." Turnbull burst into a fit of laughter in which Lippincott joined, for in the early days of the cruise on the _Arrow_ they had heard from Nat how his friends had for generations laid by a portion of their revenues, and allowed the interest to accumulate, so that, now that the time had come for utilizing the reserve, they were really much richer people than they had been when living on their fine plantation. Doyle looked astonished at their laughter. "My dear Doyle," Turnbull went on, "it is too comical to hear you talking of a shiftless planter--you, belonging as you do to the most happy-go-lucky race on the face of the earth. Now, I will ask you, did you ever hear of a family of Irish squires who for generations put aside a tenth part of their income, and allowed the interest to accumulate without touching it, so that, when bad times came, they found that they were twice as well off as they were before?" "Begorra, you are right, Turnbull; never did I hear of such a thing, and I don't believe it ever happened since the first Irish crossed the seas from somewhere in the east." "Well, at any rate, Doyle, that is what the Duchesnes have done, and I should think, from what Glover says--though he did not mention any precise sum, for he did not know himself--but I should say that it must come to at least a hundred thousand pounds." "Mother of Moses!" the doctor exclaimed; "it is a mighty bad turn you have done me, Turnbull, that you never gave me as much as a hint of this before. I should have been sorry for Glover, who is in all ways a good fellow; still I should have deemed it my duty to my family, who once--as you know, is the case of almost every other family in the ould country--were Kings of Ireland. I should have restored the ancient grandeur of my family, built a grand castle, and kept open house to all comers--and to think that I never knew it!" "Then you think, doctor," Lippincott said, with a laugh, "that you only had to enter the lists to cut Glover out?" "I don't go quite so far as that; but, of course, now the thing is settled for good, it would be of no use trying to disturb it, and it would hardly be fair on Glover. But, you see, as long as it was an open matter, I might have well tried my luck. I should have had great advantages. You see, I am a grown man, whereas Glover is still but a lad. Then, though I say it myself, I could talk his head off, and am as good as those who have kissed the Blarney stone at bewildering the dear creatures." "Those are great advantages, no doubt, Doyle; but, you see, Glover had one advantage which, I have no doubt, counted with the lady more than all those you have enumerated. He had saved her life at the risk of his own, he had carried her, and her mother, through terrible dangers." "Yes, yes, there is something in that," Doyle said, shaking his head; "if the poor young fellow is satisfied with gratitude I have nothing more to say. At any rate, I have lost my chance. Now, perhaps, as you know all about this, you might put me up to some other lady in similar circumstances, but with a heart free to bestow upon a deserving man." "I should not be justified in doing so, Doyle. After what you have been saying about building a baronial castle, and keeping open house, it is clear that you would soon bring a fortune to an end, however great it might be; and, therefore, I should not feel justified in aiding you in any way in your matrimonial adventures." "It's a poor heart that never rejoices," the doctor said. "The tumblers are empty. Sam, you rascal, bring us another bottle of that old Jamaica, fresh limes, and cold water. It is one of the drawbacks of this bastely climate that there is no pleasure in taking your punch hot." One of the negroes brought in the materials. "Now, doctor," Turnbull said, "I know that in spite of this terrible disappointment you will drink heartily the toast, 'Nat Glover and Mademoiselle Duchesne, and may they live long and happily together!'" "That is good," Doyle said as he emptied his tumbler at a draught; "nothing short of a bumper would do justice to it. Hand me the bottle again, Lippincott, and cut me a couple of slices off that lime. Yes, I will take two pieces of sugar, please, Turnbull. Now I am going to propose a toast, 'The new commander of the _Agile_, and may she, in his hands, do as well as she did in those of Nat Glover.'" Three days later the _Agile_ started on another cruise. Nat spent his time in the dockyard, where he was so well known to all the officials that they did everything in their power to aid him to push matters forward, and a week after the brigantine had left the _Spartane_ was ready for sea. Nat had seen the admiral several times, but had heard nothing from him as to who were the officers who were to take the _Spartane_ home, nor whether he was to sail as a passenger bearing despatches or as one of the officers. When he went on board the flag-ship to report that all was ready for sea, the admiral said: "Mr. Winton, first lieutenant of the _Onyx_, is invalided home. He is a good officer, but the climate has never agreed with him, and, as his father has lately died and he has come into some property, he will, I have no doubt, go on half-pay for a time until he is thoroughly set up again. I shall therefore appoint him as first lieutenant of the _Spartane_; Mr. Plumber, second lieutenant of the _Tiger_, will go second. "I have decided, Mr. Glover, to give you the rank of acting commander. You captured the ship, and it is fair that you should take her to England. Mind, I think it probable enough that the authorities at home may not be willing to confirm your rank, as it is but little over two years since you obtained your present grade. I feel that I am incurring a certain responsibility in giving you the command of a thirty-six-gun frigate, but you have had opportunities of showing that you are a thorough seaman, and can fight as well as sail your ship." "I am immensely obliged, sir," Nat said hesitatingly, "but I have never for a moment thought of this, and it does seem a tremendous responsibility. Besides, I shall be over two officers both many years senior to myself." "I have spoken to both of them," the admiral said, "and pointed out to them that, after you had captured the frigate with the little brigantine you commanded, I considered it almost your right to take her home. I put it frankly to them that, if they had any objection to serving under one so much their junior, I should by no means press the point, but that at the same time I should naturally prefer having two experienced officers with you instead of officering her entirely with young lieutenants junior to yourself. I am glad to say that both of them agreed heartily, and admitted the very great claim that you have to the command. Mr. Winton is anxious to get home, and knows that he might have to wait some time before a ship of war was going. Mr. Plumber is equally anxious for a short run home, for, as he frankly stated to me, he has for three years past been engaged to be married, and he has some ground for hope that he may get appointed to a ship on the home station. So as these gentlemen are perfectly willing to serve under you there need be no difficulty on your part in the matter. We will therefore consider it as settled. "I have made out your appointment as acting commander. I sincerely hope that you will be confirmed in the rank. At any rate, it will count for you a good deal that you should have acted in that capacity. Here are your instructions. You will be short-handed; I cannot spare enough men from the ships on this station to make up a full complement. A hundred and fifty are all that I can possibly let you have, but I have told the masters of these two Indiamen that they will have to furnish a contingent. I have been on board both the ships to-day. I addressed the crews, and said that you were going to take home the _Spartane_ and were short of hands. I said that I did not wish to press any men against their will, but that I hoped that five-and-twenty from each ship would come forward voluntarily; that number had aided to bring the _Spartane_ in here; they knew you, and might be sure that the ship would be a comfortable one; and I told them that I would give them passes, saying that they had voluntarily shipped for the voyage home on my guaranteeing that they should, if they chose, be discharged from the service on their arrival. More than the number required volunteered at once, but I asked the captain to pick out for me the men who had before been on board the _Spartane_, and of whose conduct you had spoken highly. Three merchantmen will sail under your convoy." Nat went ashore after leaving the admiral, and naturally went straight to the Duchesnes. "Who do you suppose is going to command the _Spartane_?" he asked as he went in. "I know who ought to command her. You took her, and you ought to command her." "Well, it seems absurd, but that is just what I am going to do." Myra clapped her hands in delight. "Have they made you a real captain, then?" "No," he said with a laugh, "I shall be acting commander. That gives one the honorary rank of captain, but it may be a long time before I get appointed to that rank. The admiral has been awfully kind, but the people at home are not likely to regard my age and appearance as in any way suitable for such a position." "I am happy to say, Nat, that we shall sail under your convoy. I have been settling all my affairs and making my arrangements for leaving, and have this morning definitely taken cabins in the _Myrtle_. As the furniture is not ours, and we have not accumulated many belongings, knowing that we might be sailing at any moment, we can get everything packed by to-night and go on board to-morrow morning. The captain could not tell me at what hour we should sail. He said that it would depend upon the frigate." "I should like to start at eight if I could, but I cannot say whether everything will be quite ready. However, you had better be on board at that hour. It will be jolly indeed having you all so close to me." "Shall we be able to see each other sometimes?" Myra asked. "Many times, I hope; but of course it must depend partly on the weather. If we are becalmed at any time you might come on board and spend a whole day, but if we are bowling along rapidly it would scarcely be the thing to stop two ships in order that the passengers might go visiting." It was twelve o'clock on the following day when the _Spartane_ fired a gun, and at the signal the anchors, which had all been hove short, were run up, the sails shaken out, and the _Spartane_ and the three vessels under her charge started on their voyage. CHAPTER XIX HOME The voyage home was a pleasant but not an exciting one. No suspicious sails were sighted until they neared the mouth of the Channel. Then two or three craft, which bore the appearance of French privateers, had at different times approached them, but only to draw off as soon as they made out the line of ports of the _Spartane_. There had been sufficient days of calm and light winds to enable the Duchesnes to frequently spend a few hours on board the frigate. Nat had felt a little uncomfortable at first, but it was not long before he became accustomed to the position. Of course he could not be on the same familiar terms with his officers as he had been on board the _Agile_, but he insisted upon the first and second lieutenants dining with him regularly. "It will really be kind of you if you will," he said, "for I shall feel like a fish out of water sitting here in solitary state." And as he had drawn something on account of his prize-money and kept an excellent table, the two officers willingly agreed to the suggestion. "I have always thought, Mr. Winton," he said, "that there is a good deal more stiffness than is at all necessary or even desirable on board a ship of war. It is not so in the army. I dined several times at regimental messes at Kingston, and although the colonel was, of course, treated with a certain respect, the conversation was as general and as unrestrained as if all had been private gentlemen; yet, of course, on the parade ground, the colonel was as supreme as a captain on his quarter-deck. At sea, the captain really never gets to know anything about his officers, except with regard to their duties on board a ship, and I don't think it is good, either for him or the officers in general, that he should be cut off from them as much as if he were an emperor of China." "I agree with you so far," Mr. Winton said. "I do think the reins of discipline are held too tautly, and that where the captain is a really good fellow, life on board might be much more pleasant than it now is; but with a bad-tempered, overbearing sort of man your suggestion would act just the other way." "Well, we could easily put a stop to that," Nat said, "if the admiralty would refuse to appoint bad-tempered and overbearing men to any command." The other laughed. "That would help us out of the difficulty, certainly; but I think that any change had better be deferred until they perceive, as every junior officer in the service perceives, that such men are a curse to themselves and everyone else, that they are hated by the whole crew, from the ship's boys to the first lieutenant, and that a ship with a contented and cheerful crew can be trusted at all times to do her duty against any odds." Sailing south of the Isle of Wight, the _Spartane_ came in through the Nab Channel. There she left her convoy, who anchored on the Mother Bank, while she sailed into Portsmouth harbour, with the white ensign flying over the tricolour. As she entered she was greeted with loud cheers by the crews of the ships of war. As soon as she had picked up moorings Nat landed at the dockyard, and, proceeding to the admiral's, reported himself there. "The admiral is away inspecting the forts in the Needles passage," a young officer said. "Captain Painton might be able to give you any information that you require." "I only want formally to report myself before taking post-chaise to London." "Perhaps you had better see him," the other said, a little puzzled as to who this young officer could be who was in charge of despatches. "I think I had." "What name shall I say?" "Glover." The flag-captain was a short, square-built man, with keen eyes, and a not unpleasant expression, but bluff and hasty in manner. "Now, Mr. Glover, what can I do for you?" he asked shortly. "Well, sir, I hardly know the course of procedure, but as I want to start with despatches for London in a quarter of an hour I shall be glad to be able to hand over the ship I command, or, if it cannot be taken over in that summary way, to know whether my first officer is to retain charge of her until I can return from town." "And what is the vessel that you have the honour to command, sir?" Captain Painton said with a slight smile. "The _Spartane_ frigate, a prize mounting thirty-six guns, that entered the harbour a quarter of an hour ago." The captain had an idea that this was an ill-timed joke on the part of the young lieutenant. "Do you wish me to understand, sir," he said sternly, "that you are in command of that prize?" "That certainly, sir, is what I wish you to understand. I have brought her home from Jamaica, and have the honour to hold the appointment of acting commander. There, you see, are the official despatches of which I am the bearer, addressed to the Admiralty, and with the words 'In charge of Acting Commander Glover.'" "And your officers, sir?" suppressing with difficulty an explosion of wrath at what he considered a fresh sign that the service was going to the dogs. "The first officer is Lieutenant Winton, the second Lieutenant Plumber." "Very well, sir, I will go off myself at once. I will detain you no longer." Nat at once hurried off, while Captain Painton went into the office of another of the officials of the dockyard. "The service is going to the dogs," he said. "Here is a young lieutenant, who from his appearance can't have passed more than a year, pitchforked over the head of heaven knows how many seniors, and placed as acting commander of a thirtysix-gun frigate, French prize, sir. Just look up the records of the lieutenants under him." "One is a lieutenant of fifteen years' service, the other of twelve." "It is monstrous, scandalous. This sort of thing is destructive of all discipline, and proves that everything is to go by favouritism. Just at the outbreak of the war it is enough to throw cold water on the spirits of all who are hoping to distinguish themselves." Ignorant of the storm that had been excited in the mind of the flag-captain, Nat was already on his way, having as soon as he landed sent his coxswain to order a post-chaise to be got ready for starting in a quarter of an hour. It was eight o'clock when he dropped anchor, by nine he was on the road, and by handsomely tipping the post-boys he drew up at the Admiralty at half-past four. "What name shall I say, sir?" the doorkeeper asked. "Acting Commander Glover, with despatches from Jamaica." The admiral looked up with amazement as Nat was announced. The latter had not mounted the second epaulette to which as commander he was entitled, and the admiral on his first glance thought that the attendant must have made a mistake. "Did I understand, sir, that you are a commander?" "An acting one only, sir. I have come home in command of the _Spartane_, a prize mounting thirty-six guns. The admiral was good enough to appoint me to the acting rank in order that I might bring her home with despatches, and the report respecting her capture by the brigantine _Agile_, of ten guns, which I had the honour to command." "Yes, I saw a very brief notice of her capture in the _Gazette_ ten days ago, but no particulars were given. I suppose the mail was just coming out when she arrived." "That was partly the reason, no doubt, sir; but I think the admiral could have written more, had he not in his kindness of heart left it to me to hand in a full report. I may say that I had the good fortune to recapture two valuable West Indiamen that the _Spartane_ had picked up on her way out." The admiral rose from the table and took down a thick volume from the book-case. At the back were the words, "Records of Service." It was partly printed, a wide space being left under each name for further records to be written in. "Glover, Nathaniel. Is that your Christian name, Captain Glover?" Nat bowed. "An exceptionally good record. 'Distinguished himself greatly in the attack by the frigate _Orpheus_ on three piratical craft protected by strong batteries. Passed as lieutenant shortly afterwards. Appointed to the command of the schooner _Arrow_, four guns, charged to rescue white inhabitants off Hayti, and if possible to enter into communications with negro leaders and learn their views. In the course of the performance of this duty he landed with all his crew of twenty men, took off a French planter and family and eight other whites in the hands of a force estimated at three hundred and fifty blacks, and fought his way on board his ship again. Later on engaged a pirate brigantine, the _Agile_, of ten guns, which had just captured a Spanish merchantman. After a sharp fight, took possession of the prize, and with the aid of her crew capture the _Agile_.' And now with the _Agile_ you have taken the _Spartane_, a thirty-six gun frigate, to say nothing of recapturing two valuable West Indiamen, prizes of hers. And I suppose, Commander Glover, if we confirm you in your rank and command, you will go forth and appear next time with a French three-decker in tow. From a tiny schooner to a frigate is a greater distance than from a frigate to a line-of-battle ship." "Yes, sir," Nat said with a smile; "but the advantage of quick manoeuvring that one gets in a small craft, and which gives one a chance against a larger adversary, becomes lost when it is a frigate against a line-of-battle ship. The _Spartane_ is fairly handy, but she could not hope to gain much advantage that way over a bigger vessel." "I wonder the admiral had men enough to spare to send her home." "He could hardly have done so, sir, but fifty of the merchant sailors belonging to the recaptured prizes volunteered for the voyage, and were furnished by the admiral with discharges on arrival at Portsmouth." "A very good plan, for it is hard work to get men now that we are fitting out every ship at all the naval ports. Now, Commander Glover, I will detain you no longer. I shall carefully read through these despatches this evening, and shall discuss them with my colleagues to-morrow. I shall be glad if you will dine with me to-morrow evening at half-past six; here is my card and address." "I beg your pardon, sir, but I am altogether ignorant of such matters--should I come in uniform or plain clothes?" "Whichever would suit you best," the admiral replied with a smile. "As you have only just arrived to-day from the West Indies, and doubtless have had little time for preparations before you sailed, it is more than likely that you may not have had time to provide yourself with a full-dress uniform." "I have not, sir; and indeed, had I had time I should not have thought of buying one of my acting rank, which would naturally terminate as soon as the object for which it was granted was attained." "Very well, then, come in plain dress. I may tell you for your information, that when invited by an admiral to his official residence you would be expected to appear in uniform, but when asked to dine at his private residence it would not be considered as a naval function, and although I do not at all say that it would be wrong to appear in uniform, there would be no necessity for doing so." As everyone dressed for dinner in the West Indies for the sake of coolness and comfort, Nat was well provided in this way. After his dinner at the Golden Cross he went to a playhouse. He had posted a letter to his father, which was written before he landed, directly he reached town, saying that he was home; that of course he could not say how long it would be before he would be able to leave his ship, but as soon as he did so he would run down into Somersetshire and stay there until he received orders either to join another vessel or to return to the West Indies. The next afternoon the papers came out with the official news, and news-boys were shouting themselves hoarse: "Capture of a French frigate by a ten-gun British brig! Thirty-six guns against ten! Three hundred and fifty Frenchmen against fifty Englishmen! Nearly half the monsieurs killed or wounded, the rest taken prisoners! Glorious victory!" And Nat was greatly amused as he looked out of the window of the hotel at the eager hustling that was going on to obtain one of the broadsheets. "It sounds a big thing," he said to himself, "but there was nothing in it, and the whole thing was over in less time than it takes to talk about it. Well, I hope I shall either get off to Portsmouth again to-morrow or go down to the dear old pater. I wish this dinner was over. No doubt there will be some more of these old admirals there, and they will be wanting to learn all the ins and outs, just as if twenty words would not tell them how it was we thrashed them so easily. They know well enough that if you have a quick handy craft, and get her under the weather quarter of a slow-moving frigate the latter hasn't a shadow of a chance." Although not an official dinner, all the twelve gentlemen who sat down were, with the exception of Nat, connected with the admiralty. The first lord and several other admirals were there, the others were heads of departments and post-captains. "Before we begin dinner," the first lord said, "I have pleasure in handing this to you, Commander Glover. There is but one opinion among my colleagues and myself, which is that as you have captured the _Spartane_ and have come home as her commander, we cannot do less than confirm you in that rank and leave her in your charge. You are certainly unusually young for such promotion, but your career has been for the past four years so exceptional that we seem to have scarcely any option in the matter. Such promotion is not only a reward you have gallantly won, but that you should receive it will, we feel, animate other young officers to wholesome emulation that will be advantageous both to themselves and to the service in general." Nat could scarcely credit his ears. That he might be appointed second lieutenant of the _Spartane_ or some other ship of war was, he thought, probable; but the acme of his hopes was that a first lieutenancy in a smart sloop might possibly be offered to him. His two officers on the way home had talked the matter over with him, and they had been a little amused at seeing that he never appeared to think it within the bounds of possibility that his rank would be confirmed, although, as the admiral before sailing told them, he had most strongly recommended that this should be done, and he thought it certain that the authorities at home would see the matter in the same light. He had asked them not to give the slightest hint to Nat that such promotion might be awarded to him. "You never can tell," the admiral said, "what the Admiralty will do, but here is a chance that they don't often get of making a really popular promotion, without a suspicion of favouritism being entertained. Beyond the fact that he has been mentioned in despatches, I doubt if anyone at Whitehall as much as knows the young fellow's name, and the service generally will see that for once merit has been recognized on the part of one who, so far as patronage goes, is friendless." Nat returned to Portsmouth the following morning, and spent some hours in signing papers and going through other formalities. "The _Spartane_ will be paid off to-morrow, Captain Glover," the port admiral said; "she will be recommissioned immediately. I hope you will be able to get some of the men to re-enter, for there is a good deal of difficulty about crews. So great a number of ships have been fitted out during the past four or five months that we have pretty well exhausted the seafaring population here, and even the press-gangs fail to bring many in." Going on board, Nat sent for the boatswain and gunners, and informed them that as he was to recommission the _Spartane_ he was anxious to get as many of the hands to reship as possible. "I have no doubt that some of them will join, sir," the quarter-master said. "I heard them talking among themselves, and saying that she has been as pleasant a ship as they had ever sailed in, and if you was to hoist your pennant a good many of them would sign on." "I would not mind giving a couple of pounds a head." "I don't think that it would be of any use, sir. If the men will join they will join, if they won't they won't. Besides, they have all got some pay, and most of them some prize-money coming to them, and it would be only so much more to chuck away if they had it. And another thing, sir, I think when men like an officer they like to show him that it is so, and they would rather reship without any bounty, to show that they liked him, than have it supposed that it was for the sake of the money." After the men had been paid off the next morning, he told them in a short speech that he had been appointed to recommission the _Spartane_, and said that he would be glad to have a good many of them with him again. He was much gratified when fully two-thirds of the men, including the greater part of the merchantmen, stepped forward and entered their names. "That speaks well indeed for our young commander," the port admiral, who had been present, said to his flag-captain. "It is seldom indeed that you find anything like so large a proportion of men ready to reship at once. It proves that they have confidence in his skill as well as in his courage, and that they feel that the ship will be a comfortable one." It was expected that the _Spartane_ would be at least a month in the hands of the shipwrights, and the men on signing were given leave of absence for that time. As soon as all this was arranged, Nat took a post-chaise and drove to Southampton. There he found the Duchesnes at an hotel. Their ship had gone into the port two days previously, but all their belongings were not yet out of the hold, and indeed it had been arranged that they would not go up to town till they saw him. They were delighted to hear that his appointment had been confirmed, and that he was to have the command of the _Spartane_. "Now, I suppose you will be running down to see your people at once?" Myra said with a little pout. "I think that is only fair," he said, "considering that I have not seen them for six years. I don't think that even you could grudge me a few days." "Yeovil is a large place, isn't it?" she asked. "Yes; why do you ask?" She looked at her mother, who smiled. "The fact is, Nat, Myra has been endeavouring to persuade her father and me that it would be a nice plan for us to go down there with you and to form the acquaintance of your parents. Of course we should stay at an hotel. We are in no particular hurry to go up to London; and as while you are away we shall naturally wish to see as much as we can of your people, this would make a very good beginning. And perhaps some of them will come back to London with us when you join your ship." "I think it would be a first-rate plan, madame, the best thing possible. Of course I want my father and mother and the girls to see Myra." "When will you start?" "To-morrow morning. Of course we shall go by post. It will be a very cross-country journey by coach, and many of these country roads are desperately bad. It is only about the same distance that it is to London, but the roads are not so good, so I propose that we make a short journey to-morrow to Salisbury, and then, starting early, go through to Yeovil. We shall be there in good time in the afternoon. I shall only be taking a very small amount of kit, so that we ought to be able to stow three large trunks, which will, I suppose, be enough for you. Of course we could send some on by a waggon, but there is no saying when they would get there, and as likely as not they would not arrive until just as we are leaving there; of course Dinah will go on the box." At four o'clock, two days later, the post-chaise drove up to the principal hotel at Yeovil. Rooms were at once obtained for the Duchesnes, and Nat hired a light trap to drive him out to his father's rectory, some three miles out of the town. As he drove up to the house, three girls, from sixteen to two-and three-and-twenty, ran out, followed a moment later by his father and mother. For a few minutes there was but little coherent talk. His sisters could scarcely believe that this tall young officer was the lad they had last seen, and even his father and mother agreed that they would scarce have recognized him. "I don't think the girls quite recognize me now," he laughed. "They kissed me in a very feeble sort of way, as if they were not at all sure that it was quite right. Indeed, I was not quite sure myself that it was the proper thing for me to salute three strange young ladies." "What nonsense you talk, Nat," his eldest sister Mary said. "I thought by this time, now you are a lieutenant, you would have become quite stiff, and would expect a good deal of deference to be paid to you." "I can't say that you have been a good correspondent, Nat," his mother said. "You wrote very seldom, and then said very little of what you had been doing." "Well, mother, there are not many post-offices in Hayti, and I should not have cared to trust any letters to them if there had been. There is the advantage, you see, that there is much more to tell you now than if I had written to you before. You don't get papers very regularly here, I think?" "No, we seldom see a London paper, and the Bath papers don't tell much about anything except the fashionable doings there." "Then I have several pieces of news to tell you. Here is a _Gazette_, in which you will see that a certain Nathaniel Glover brought into Portsmouth last week a French thirty-six-gun frigate which he had captured, and in another part of the _Gazette_ you will observe that the same officer has been confirmed in the acting rank of commander, and has been appointed to the _Spartane_, which is to be recommissioned at once. Therefore you see, sisters, you will in future address me as captain." There was a general exclamation of surprise and delight. "That is what it was," the rector said, "that Dr. Miles was talking to me about yesterday in Yeovil. He said that the London papers were full of the news that a French frigate had been captured by a little ten-gun brigantine, and had been brought home by the officer who had taken her, who was, he said, of the same name as mine. He said that it was considered an extraordinarily gallant action." "We shall be as proud as peacocks," Lucy, the youngest girl, said. "Now as to my news," he went on. "Doubtless that was important, but not so important as that which I am now going to tell you. At the present moment there is at Yeovil a gentleman and lady, together with their daughter, the said daughter being, at the end of a reasonable time, about to become my wife, and your sister, girls." The news was received with speechless surprise. "Really, Nat?" his mother said in a tone of doubt; "do you actually mean that you have become engaged to a young lady who is now at Yeovil?" "That is the case, mother," he said cheerfully. "There is nothing very surprising that a young lady should fall in love with me, is there? and I think the announcement will look well in the papers--on such and such a date, Myra, daughter of Monsieur Duchesne, late of the island of Hayti, to Nathaniel, son of the Rev. Charles Glover of Arkton Rectory, commander in his majesty's navy." "Duchesne!" Ada, the second girl, said, clapping her hands, "that is the name of the young lady you rescued from a dog. I remember at the time Mary and I quite agreed that the proper thing for you to do would be to marry her some day. Yes, and you were staying at her father's place when the blacks broke out; and you had all to hide in the woods for some time." "Quite right, Ada. Well, she and her father and mother have posted down with me from Southampton in order to make your acquaintance, and to-morrow you will have to go over in a body." "Does she speak English?" Mrs. Glover asked. "Oh, yes, she speaks a good deal of English; her people have for the past two years intended to settle in England, and have all been studying the language to a certain extent. Besides that, they have had the inestimable advantage of my conversation, and have read a great many English books on their voyage home." "Is Miss Duchesne very dark?" Lucy asked in a tone of anxiety. Nat looked at her for a moment in surprise, and then burst into a fit of laughter. "What, Lucy, do you think because Myra was born in Hayti that she is a little negress with crinkley wool?" "No, no," the girl protested almost tearfully. "Of course I did not think that, but I thought that she might be dark. I am sure when I was at Bath last season and saw several old gentlemen, who, they said, were rich West Indians, they were all as yellow as guineas." "Well, she won't be quite so dark as that, anyhow," Nat said; "in fact I can tell you, you three will all have to look your best to make a good show by the side of her." "But this talk is all nonsense, Nat," the rector said gravely. "Your engagement is a very serious matter. Of course, now you have been so wonderfully fortunate, and are commander of a ship, you will, I have no doubt, have an income quite sufficient to marry upon, and, of course, you are in a position to please yourself." "We are not going to be married just at present, father. She is three years younger than I am, and I am not far advanced in years; so it has been quite settled that we shall wait for some time yet. By then, if I am lucky, my prize-money will have swelled to a handsome amount, and indeed, although I don't know the exact particulars, I believe I am entitled to from eight to ten thousand pounds. Moreover as the young lady herself is an only child, and her father is a very wealthy man, I fancy that we are not likely to have to send round the hat to make ends meet." The visit was duly paid the next day, and was most satisfactory to all parties, and, as the rectory was a large building, Mr. and Mrs. Glover insisted upon the Duchesnes removing there at once. "We want to see as much of Nat as we can," his mother urged, "and if he is to divide his time between Yeovil and the rectory, I am afraid we should get but a very small share of him." "I suppose your brother has told you all his adventures," Myra said the next morning, as she and all the party, with the exception of Mr. Glover and Nat, were seated in the parlour after breakfast was over. "No, he is a very poor correspondent. He just told us what he had been doing, but said very little about his adventures. I suppose he thought that girls would not care to hear about midshipmen's doings. He did tell us, though, that he had had a fight with a dog that had bitten you." Myra's eyes opened wider and wider as the eldest, Mary Glover, spoke. Her face flushed, and she would have risen to her feet in her indignation had not her mother laid her hand upon her arm. "I do not think, Miss Glover," Monsieur Duchesne said gravely, "that you can at all understand the obligation that we are under to your brother. The bite of a dog seems but a little thing. A huge hound had thrown Myra down, and had rescue been delayed but half a minute her death was certain. Your brother, riding past, heard her cries, and rushed in, and, armed only with his dirk, attacked the hound. He saved my daughter's life, but it was well-nigh at the cost of his own, for although he killed it, it was not until it had inflicted terrible injuries upon him--injuries so serious that for a time it was doubtful whether he would live. This was the first service to us. On the next occasion he was staying with us when the blacks rose. Thanks to our old nurse, there was time for them to run out into the shrubbery before the negroes came up, and then take refuge in the wood. My wife was seized with fever, and was for days unconscious. "The woods were everywhere scoured for fugitives. Six blacks, led by two mulattoes, discovered their hiding-place. Your son shot the whole of them, but had one of his ribs broken by a pistol-ball. In spite of that, he and Dinah carried my wife some thirty miles down to the town across rough ground, where every step must have been torture to him, and brought her and Myra safely to me. Equal services he performed another time to a family, intimate friends of ours, composed of a gentleman and his wife and two daughters, who, with six white men, were prisoners in the hands of the blacks, and would assuredly have suffered deaths of agonizing torture. Though he had but twenty men with him, he landed them all, marched them up to the place, rescued the whole party, and made his way down to his boat again through three hundred and fifty maddened blacks. No less great was the service he rendered when he rescued some fifteen ladies and gentlemen who had been captured by a pirate, and whose fate, had he not arrived, would have been too horrible to think of. As to his services at sea, the official reports have testified, and his unheard-of promotion shows the appreciation of the authorities. Never were more gallant deeds done by the most valiant naval captains who have ever lived." Myra had held her father's hand while he was speaking; her breath had come fast, and her eyes were full of tears. "Thank you, Monsieur Duchesne," Mrs. Glover said, gently; "please remember that all this is quite new to us. Now that we know something of the truth, we shall feel as proud of our boy as your daughter has a right to be." "Excuse me, Mrs. Glover," Myra said, walking across to her, and kissing her, "but when it seemed to me that these glorious deeds Nat has achieved were regarded as the mere adventures of a midshipman, I felt that I must speak." "It is quite natural that you should do so," Mrs. Glover said; "for, if fault there is, it rests with Nat, who always spoke of his own adventures in a jesting sort of way, and gave us no idea that they were anything out of the common." "They were out of the common, madame," Myra said; "why, when he came into Port Royal, with the great frigate in tow of his little brigantine, and two huge merchantmen he had recaptured from her, the admiral's ship and all the vessels of war in the harbour saluted him. I almost cried my eyes out with pride and happiness." "Myra does not exaggerate," her mother said; "your son's exploits were the talk of Jamaica, and even the capture of the French frigate was less extraordinary than the way in which, with a little craft of four guns, he captured a pirate which carried ten, and a crew four times as numerous as his own." "I hope you will tell us in full about all these things, Madame Duchesne," Mrs. Glover said, "for I fear that we shall never get a full account from Nat himself." Myra went across to Mary. "You are not angry with me, I hope," she said; "we are hot-tempered, we West Indians. When it seemed that you were speaking slightingly of the action to which I owe my life, I don't know what I should have said if my father had not stopped me." "I am not in the slightest degree angry," Mary said; "or, rather, if I am angry at all it is with Nat. It is too bad of him keeping all this to himself. You see, he was quite a boy when he left us, and he used to tell us funny stories about the pranks that the midshipmen played. Although we felt very proud of him when he told us that he had gained the rank of commander, we did not really know anything about sea matters, and could not appreciate the fact that he must have done something altogether out of the way to obtain that rank. But, of course, we like you all the better for standing up for him. I am sure that in future we girls shall be just as angry as you were if anyone says anything that sounds like running him down." The time passed rapidly, and, as the girls were never tired of listening to the tales of Nat's exploits, and Myra was never tired of relating them, Nat would have come in for any amount of hero-worship had he not promptly suppressed the slightest exhibition in that direction. It was but a few days after his arrival in England that Monsieur Duchesne learned by a letter from a friend, who was one of the few who escaped from the terrible scene, that their fears had been justified, and that Cape François, the beautiful capital of Hayti, had ceased to exist. Santhonax and Poveren had established a reign of terror, plunder, and oppression, until the white inhabitants were reduced to the most terrible state of suffering. The misery caused by these white monsters was as great as that which prevailed in France. At last General Galbaud arrived, having been sent out to prepare for the defence of the colony against an attack by the British. The two commissioners, however, refused to recognize his authority. Not only this, but they imperatively ordered him to re-embark, and return to France. Each party then prepared for fighting. The commissioners had with them the regular troops, and a large body of blacks. The governor had twelve hundred sailors, and the white inhabitants of the city, who had formed themselves into a body of volunteers. The fighting was hard; the volunteers showed the greatest bravery, and, had they been well supported by the sailors, would have gained the day. The seamen, however, speedily broke into the warehouses, intoxicated themselves with rum, and it was with difficulty that their officers could bring them back into the arsenal. The commissioners had, the night before, sent to a negro chief, offering pardon for all past offences, perfect freedom, and the plunder of the city. He arrived at noon on the 21st of June, and at once began the butchery of the white inhabitants. This continued till the evening of the 23rd, by which time the whole of the whites had been murdered, the city sacked, and then burned to the ground. Before Nat sailed in the _Spartane_, the Duchesnes had taken a house at Torquay. Here the climate would be better suited to madame, the summer temperature being less exhausting and the winter so free from extremes that she might reasonably hope not to feel the change. For five years Nat commanded the _Spartane_. If he did not meet with the exceptional good fortune that he had found in the West Indies, he had, at least, nothing to complain of. He picked up many prizes, took part in several gallant cutting-out adventures, and captured the French frigate _Euterpe_, of forty-six guns. For full details of these and other actions a search must be made in the official records of the British navy, where they are fully set forth. After a long and hard-fought battle, for which action he received post rank, he retired from the service, and settled down with Myra near Plymouth, where he was within easy reach of his own relations. As soon as he was established there, her father and mother took a house within a few minutes' walk of his home. He congratulated himself that he had not remained in the West Indies, for had he done so he would, like all the naval and military forces in the islands, have taken part in the disastrous attempt to obtain possession of the island of San Domingo. The Spaniards had ceded their portion to the French, and although the whites, mulattoes, and blacks were at war with each other, they were all ready to join forces against the British. The attempt to conquer an island so populous and strongly defended, and abounding with mountains in which the enemy could maintain themselves, was, if undertaken by a force of anything less than a hundred thousand men, foredoomed to failure. The force at first sent was ridiculously inadequate, and although it received reinforcements from time to time, these were not more than sufficient to fill the gaps caused by fever. Consequently, after four or five years' fighting, and the loss of fully thirty thousand men, by fatigue, hardship, and fever, the effort was abandoned, after having cost some thirty millions of money. At the end of the war, Toussaint was virtually Dictator of Hayti. He governed strongly and well, but as he was determined to admit no interference on the part of the French, he was finally treacherously seized by them, carried to France, and there died, it is said by starvation, in prison. His forebodings as to the unfitness of the blacks for self-government have been fulfilled to the letter. Civil wars, insurrections, and massacres have been the rule rather than the exception; the island has been gradually going down in the scale of civilization, and the majority of the blacks are as savage, ignorant, and superstitious as their forefathers in Africa. Fetish worship and human sacrifices are carried on in secret, and the fairest island in the western seas lies sunk in the lowest degradation--a proof of the utter incapacity of the negro race to evolve, or even maintain, civilization, without the example and the curb of a white population among them. * * * * * "Wherever English is spoken one imagines that Mr. Henty's name is known. One cannot enter a schoolroom or look at a boy's bookshelf without seeing half-a-dozen of his familiar volumes. Mr. Henty is no doubt the most successful writer for boys, and the one to whose new volumes they look forward every Christmas with most pleasure." --_Review of Reviews._ A LIST OF BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE By G. A. HENTY, KIRK MUNROE, JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY, ERNEST THOMPSON SETON, and Others Published by CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 153 to 157 Fifth Avenue New York * * * * * Other Volumes of the Henty Books Uniform with This Popular Edition IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE WITH LEE IN VIRGINIA WITH WOLFE IN CANADA THE LION OF ST. MARK IN THE REIGN OF TERROR NO SURRENDER UNDER WELLINGTON'S COMMAND WITH FREDERICK THE GREAT AT ABOUKIR AND ACRE BOTH SIDES THE BORDER A MARCH ON LONDON WITH MOORE AT CORUNNA AT AGINCOURT COCHRANE THE DAUNTLESS ON THE IRRAWADDY THROUGH RUSSIAN SNOWS A KNIGHT OF THE WHITE CROSS THE TIGER OF MYSORE IN THE HEART OF THE ROCKIES WHEN LONDON BURNED WULF THE SAXON ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S EVE THROUGH THE SIKH WAR A JACOBITE EXILE CONDEMNED AS A NIHILIST BERIC THE BRITON IN GREEK WATERS THE DASH FOR KHARTOUM REDSKIN AND COWBOY HELD FAST FOR ENGLAND * * * * * BY G. A. HENTY "Among writers of stories of adventures for boys Mr. Henty stands in the very first rank."--_Academy_ (London). THE TREASURE OF THE INCAS A Tale of Adventure in Peru. With 8 full-page Illustrations by WAL PAGET, and Map. $1.20 net. Peru and the hidden treasures of her ancient kings offer Mr. Henty a most fertile field for a stirring story of adventure in his most engaging style. In an effort to win the girl of his heart, the hero penetrates into the wilds of the land of the Incas. Boys who have learned to look for Mr. Henty's books will follow his new hero in his adventurous and romantic expedition with absorbing interest. It is one of the most captivating tales Mr. Henty has yet written. WITH KITCHENER IN THE SOUDAN A Story of Atbara and Omdurman. With 10 full-page Illustrations. $1.20 net. Mr. Henty has never combined history and thrilling adventure more skillfully than in this extremely interesting story. It is not in boy nature to lay it aside unfinished, once begun; and finished, the reader finds himself in possession, not only of the facts and the true atmosphere of Kitchener's famous Soudan campaign, but of the Gordon tragedy which preceded it by so many years and of which it was the outcome. WITH THE BRITISH LEGION A Story of the Carlist Uprising of 1836. Illustrated. $1.20 net. Arthur Hallet, a young English boy, finds himself in difficulty at home, through certain harmless school escapades, and enlists in the famous "British Legion," which was then embarking for Spain to take part in the campaign to repress the Carlist uprising of 1836. Arthur shows his mettle in the first fight, distinguishes himself by daring work in carrying an important dispatch to Madrid, makes a dashing and thrilling rescue of the sister of his patron, and is rapidly promoted to the rank of captain. In following the adventures of the hero the reader obtains, as is usual with Mr. Henty's stories, a most accurate and interesting history of a picturesque campaign. * * * * * STORIES BY G. A. HENTY "His books have at once the solidity of history and the charm of romance."--_Journal of Education._ TO HERAT AND CABUL A Story of the First Afghan War. By G. A. HENTY. With Illustrations. 12mo, $1.20 net. The greatest defeat ever experienced by the British Army was that in the Mountain Passes of Afghanistan. Angus Cameron, the hero of this book, having been captured by the friendly Afghans, was compelled to be a witness of the calamity. His whole story is an intensely interesting one, from his boyhood in Persia; his employment under the Government at Herat; through the defense of that town against the Persians; to Cabul, where he shared in all the events which ended in the awful march through the Passes from which but one man escaped. Angus is always at the point of danger, and whether in battle or in hazardous expeditions shows how much a brave youth, full of resources, can do, even with so treacherous a foe. His dangers and adventures are thrilling, and his escapes marvellous. WITH ROBERTS TO PRETORIA A Tale of the South African War. By G. A. HENTY. With 12 Illustrations. $1.20 net. The Boer War gives Mr. Henty an unexcelled opportunity for a thrilling story of present-day interest which the author could not fail to take advantage of. Every boy reader will find this account of the adventures of the young hero most exciting, and, at the same time a wonderfully accurate description of Lord Roberts's campaign to Pretoria. Boys have found history in the dress Mr. Henty gives it anything but dull, and the present book is no exception to the rule. AT THE POINT OF THE BAYONET A Tale of the Mahratta War. By G. A. HENTY. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.20 net. One hundred years ago the rule of the British in India was only partly established. The powerful Mahrattas were unsubdued, and with their skill in intrigue, and great military power, they were exceedingly dangerous. The story of "At the Point of the Bayonet" begins with the attempt to conquer this powerful people. Harry Lindsay, an infant when his father and mother were killed, was saved by his Mahratta ayah, who carried him to her own people and brought him up as a native. She taught him as best she could, and, having told him his parentage, sent him to Bombay to be educated. At sixteen he obtained a commission in the English Army, and his knowledge of the Mahratta tongue combined with his ability and bravery enabled him to render great service in the Mahratta War, and carried him, through many frightful perils by land and sea, to high rank. * * * * * BY G. A. HENTY "Mr. Henty might with entire propriety be called the boys' Sir Walter Scott."--_Philadelphia Press._ IN THE IRISH BRIGADE A Tale of War in Flanders and Spain. With 12 Illustrations by CHARLES M. SHELDON. 12mo, $1.50. Desmond Kennedy is a young Irish lad who left Ireland to join the Irish Brigade in the service of Louis XIV. of France. In Paris he incurred the deadly hatred of a powerful courtier from whom he had rescued a young girl who had been kidnapped, and his perils are of absorbing interest. Captured in an attempted Jacobite invasion of Scotland, he escaped in a most extraordinary manner. As aid-de-camp to the Duke of Berwick he experienced thrilling adventures in Flanders. Transferred to the Army in Spain, he was nearly assassinated, but escaped to return, when peace was declared, to his native land, having received pardon and having recovered his estates. The story is filled with adventure, and the interest never abates. OUT WITH GARIBALDI A Story of the Liberation of Italy. By G. A. HENTY. With 8 Illustrations by W. RAINEY, R.I. 12mo, $1.50. Garibaldi himself is the central figure of this brilliant story, and the little-known history of the struggle for Italian freedom is told here in the most thrilling way. From the time the hero, a young lad, son of an English father and an Italian mother, joins Garibaldi's band of 1,000 men in the first descent upon Sicily, which was garrisoned by one of the large Neapolitan armies, until the end, when all those armies are beaten, and the two Sicilys are conquered, we follow with the keenest interest the exciting adventures of the lad in scouting, in battle, and in freeing those in prison for liberty's sake. WITH BULLER IN NATAL Or, A Born Leader. By G. A. HENTY. With 10 Illustrations by W. RAINEY. 12mo, $1.50. The breaking out of the Boer War compelled Chris King, the hero of the story, to flee with his mother from Johannesburg to the sea coast. They were with many other Uitlanders, and all suffered much from the Boers. Reaching a place of safety for their families, Chris and twenty of his friends formed an independent company of scouts. In this service they were with Gen. Yule at Glencoe, then in Ladysmith, then with Buller. In each place they had many thrilling adventures. They were in great battles and in lonely fights on the Veldt; were taken prisoners and escaped; and they rendered most valuable service to the English forces. The story is a most interesting picture of the War in South Africa. * * * * * BY G. A. HENTY "Surely Mr. Henty should understand boys' tastes better than any man living."--_The Times._ WON BY THE SWORD A Tale of the Thirty Years' War. With 12 Illustrations by CHARLES M. SHELDON, and four Plans. 12mo, $1.50. The scene of this story is laid in France, during the time of Richelieu, of Mazarin and Anne of Austria. The hero, Hector Campbell, is the orphaned son of a Scotch officer in the French Army. How he attracted the notice of Marshal Turenne and of the Prince of Conde; how he rose to the rank of Colonel; how he finally had to leave France, pursued by the deadly hatred of the Duc de Beaufort--all these and much more the story tells with the most absorbing interest. A ROVING COMMISSION Or, Through the Black Insurrection at Hayti. With 12 Illustrations by WILLIAM RAINEY. 12mo, $1.50. This is one of the most brilliant of Mr. Henty's books. A story of the sea, with all its life and action, it is also full of thrilling adventures on land. So it holds the keenest interest until the end. The scene is a new one to Mr. Henty's readers, being laid at the time of the Great Revolt of the Blacks, by which Hayti became independent. Toussaint l'Overture appears, and an admirable picture is given of him and of his power. NO SURRENDER The Story of the Revolt in La Vendée. With 8 Illustrations by STANLEY L. WOOD. 12mo, $1.50. The revolt of La Vendée against the French Republic at the time of the Revolution forms the groundwork of this absorbing story. Leigh Stansfield, a young English lad, is drawn into the thickest of the conflict. Forming a company of boys as scouts for the Vendéan Army, he greatly aids the peasants. He rescues his sister from the guillotine, and finally, after many thrilling experiences, when the cause of La Vendée is lost, he escapes to England. UNDER WELLINGTON'S COMMAND A Tale of the Peninsular War. With 12 Illustrations by WAL PAGET. 12mo, $1.50. The dashing hero of this book, Terence O'Connor, was the hero of Mr. Henty's previous book, "With Moore at Corunna," to which this is really a sequel. He is still at the head of the "Minho" Portuguese regiment. Being detached on independent and guerilla duty with his regiment, he renders invaluable service in gaining information and in harassing the French. His command, being constantly on the edge of the army, is engaged in frequent skirmishes and some most important battles. * * * * * BY G. A. HENTY "Mr. Henty is the king of story-tellers for boys."--_Sword and Trowel._ AT ABOUKIR AND ACRE A Story of Napoleon's Invasion of Egypt. With 8 full-page Illustrations by WILLIAM RAINEY, and 3 Plans. 12mo, $1.50. The hero, having saved the life of the son of an Arab chief, is taken into the tribe, has a part in the battle of the Pyramids and the revolt at Cairo. He is an eye-witness of the famous naval battle of Aboukir, and later is in the hardest of the defense of Acre. BOTH SIDES THE BORDER A Tale of Hotspur and Glendower. With 12 full-page Illustrations by RALPH PEACOCK. 12mo, $1.50. This is a brilliant story of the stirring times of the beginning of the Wars of the Roses, when the Scotch, under Douglas, and the Welsh, under Owen Glendower, were attacking the English. The hero of the book lived near the Scotch border, and saw many a hard fight there. Entering the service of Lord Percy, he was sent to Wales, where he was knighted, and where he was captured. Being released, he returned home, and shared in the fatal battle of Shrewsbury. WITH FREDERICK THE GREAT A Tale of the Seven Years' War. With 12 full-page Illustrations. 12mo, $1.50. The hero of this story while still a youth entered the service of Frederick the Great, and by a succession of fortunate circumstances and perilous adventures, rose to the rank of colonel. Attached to the staff of the king, he rendered distinguished services in many battles, in one of which he saved the king's life. Twice captured and imprisoned, he both times escaped from the Austrian fortresses. A MARCH ON LONDON A Story of Wat Tyler's Rising. With 8 full-page Illustrations by W. H. MARGETSON. 12mo, $1.50. The story of Wat Tyler's Rebellion is but little known, but the hero of this story passes through that perilous time and takes part in the civil war in Flanders which followed soon after. Although young he is thrown into many exciting and dangerous adventures, through which he passes with great coolness and much credit. * * * * * BY G. A. HENTY "No country nor epoch of history is there which Mr. Henty does not know, and what is really remarkable is that he always writes well and interestingly."--_New York Times._ WITH MOORE AT CORUNNA A Story of the Peninsular War. With 12 full-page Illustrations by WAL PAGET. 12mo, $1.50. Terence O'Connor is living with his widowed father, Captain O'Connor of the Mayo Fusiliers, with the regiment at the time when the Peninsular war began. Upon the regiment being ordered to Spain, Terence gets appointed as aid to one of the generals of a division. By his bravery and great usefulness throughout the war, he is rewarded by a commission as colonel in the Portuguese army and there rendered great service. AT AGINCOURT A Tale of the White Hoods of Paris. With 12 full-page Illustrations by WALTER PAGET. Crown 8vo, olivine edges, $1.50. The story begins in a grim feudal castle in Normandie. The times were troublous, and soon the king compelled Lady Margaret de Villeroy with her children to go to Paris as hostages. Guy Aylmer went with her. Paris was turbulent. Soon the guild of the butchers, adopting white hoods as their uniform, seized the city, and besieged the house where our hero and his charges lived. After desperate fighting, the white hoods were beaten and our hero and his charges escaped from the city, and from France. WITH COCHRANE THE DAUNTLESS A Tale of the Exploits of Lord Cochrane in South American Waters. With 12 full-page Illustrations by W. H. MARGETSON. Crown 8vo, olivine edges, $1.50. The hero of this story accompanies Cochrane as midshipman, and serves in the war between Chili and Peru. He has many exciting adventures in battles by sea and land, is taken prisoner and condemned to death by the Inquisition, but escapes by a long and thrilling flight across South America and down the Amazon. ON THE IRRAWADDY A Story of the First Burmese War. With 8 full page Illustrations by W. H. OVEREND. Crown 8vo, olivine edges, $1.50. The hero, having an uncle, a trader on the Indian and Burmese rivers, goes out to join him. Soon after, war is declared by Burmah against England and he is drawn into it. He has many experiences and narrow escapes in battles and in scouting. With half-a-dozen men he rescues his cousin who had been taken prisoner, and in the flight they are besieged in an old, ruined temple. * * * * * BY G. A. HENTY "Boys like stirring adventures, and Mr. Henty is a master of this method of composition."--_New York Times_. THROUGH RUSSIAN SNOWS A Story of Napoleon's Retreat from Moscow. With 8 full-page Illustrations by W. H. OVEREND and 3 Maps. Crown 8vo, olivine edges, $1.50. The hero, Julian Wyatt, after several adventures with smugglers, by whom he is handed over a prisoner to the French, regains his freedom and joins Napoleon's army in the Russian campaign. When the terrible retreat begins, Julian finds himself in the rearguard of the French army, fighting desperately. Ultimately he escapes out of the general disaster, and returns to England. A KNIGHT OF THE WHITE CROSS A Tale of the Siege of Rhodes. With 12 full-page Illustrations by RALPH PEACOCK, and a Plan. Crown 8vo, olivine edges, $1.50. Gervaise Tresham, the hero of this story, joins the Order of the Knights of St. John, and proceeds to the stronghold of Rhodes. Subsequently he is appointed commander of a war-galley, and in his first voyage destroys a fleet of Moorish corsairs. During one of his cruises the young knight is attacked on shore, captured after a desperate struggle, and sold into slavery in Tripoli. He succeeds in escaping, and returns to Rhodes in time to take part in the defense of that fortress. THE TIGER OF MYSORE A Story of the War with Tippoo Saib. With 12 full-page Illustrations by W. H. MARGETSON, and a Map. Crown 8vo, olivine edges, $1.50. Dick Holland, whose father is supposed to be a captive of Tippoo Saib, goes to India to help him to escape. He joins the army under Lord Cornwallis, and takes part in the campaign against Tippoo. Afterwards he assumes a disguise, enters Seringapatam, and at last he discovers his father in the great stronghold of Savandroog. The hazardous rescue is at length accomplished, and the young fellow's dangerous mission is done. IN THE HEART OF THE ROCKIES A Story of Adventure in Colorado. By G. A. HENTY. With 8 full-page Illustrations by G. C. HINDLEY. Crown 8vo, olivine edges, $1.50. The hero, Tom Wade, goes to seek his uncle in Colorado, who is a hunter and gold-digger, and he is discovered, after many dangers, out on the Plains with some comrades. Going in quest of a gold mine, the little band is spied by Indians, chased across the Bad Lands, and overwhelmed by a snowstorm in the mountains. * * * * * BY G. A. HENTY "Mr. Henty is one of the best story-tellers for young people."--_Spectator_. WHEN LONDON BURNED A Story of the Plague and the Fire. By G. A. HENTY. With 12 full-page Illustrations by J. FINNEMORE. Crown 8vo, olivine edges, $1.50. The hero of this story was the son of a nobleman who had lost his estates during the troublous times of the Commonwealth. During the Great Plague and the Great Fire, Cyril was prominent among those who brought help to the panic-stricken inhabitants. WULF THE SAXON A Story of the Norman Conquest. By G. A. HENTY. With 12 full-page Illustrations by RALPH PEACOCK. Crown 8vo, olivine edges, $1.50. The hero is a young thane who wins the favor of Earl Harold and becomes one of his retinue. When Harold becomes King of England Wulf assists in the Welsh wars, and takes part against the Norsemen at the Battle of Stamford Bridge. When William of Normandy invades England, Wulf is with the English host at Hastings, and stands by his king to the last in the mighty struggle. ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S EVE A Tale of the Huguenot Wars. By G. A. HENTY. With 12 full-page Illustrations by H. J. DRAPER, and a Map. Crown 8vo, olivine edges, $1.50. The hero, Philip Fletcher, has a French connection on his mother's side. This induces him to cross the Channel in order to take a share in the Huguenot wars. Naturally he sides with the Protestants, distinguishes himself in various battles, and receives rapid promotion for the zeal and daring with which he carries out several secret missions. THROUGH THE SIKH WAR A Tale of the Conquest of the Punjaub. By G. A. HENTY. With 12 full-page illustrations by HAL HURST, and a Map. Crown 8vo, olivine edges, $1.50. Percy Groves, a spirited English lad, joins his uncle in the Punjaub, where the natives are in a state of revolt. Percy joins the British force as a volunteer, and takes a distinguished share in the famous battles of the Punjaub. * * * * * BY G. A. HENTY "The brightest of the living writers whose office it is to enchant the boys."--_Christian Leader_. A JACOBITE EXILE Being the Adventures of a Young Englishman in the Service of Charles XII. of Sweden. By G. A. HENTY. With 8 full-page Illustrations by PAUL HARDY, and a Map. Crown 8vo, olivine edges, $1.50. Sir Marmaduke Carstairs, a Jacobite, is the victim of a conspiracy, and he is denounced as a plotter against the life of King William. He flies to Sweden, accompanied by his son Charlie. This youth joins the foreign legion under Charles XII., and takes a distinguished part in several famous campaigns against the Russians and Poles. CONDEMNED AS A NIHILIST A Story of Escape from Siberia. By G. A. HENTY. With 8 full-page Illustrations. Crown 8vo, olivine edges, $1.50. The hero of this story is an English boy resident in St. Petersburg. Through two student friends he becomes innocently involved in various political plots, resulting in his seizure by the Russian police and his exile to Siberia. He ultimately escapes, and, after many exciting adventures, he reaches Norway, and thence home, after a perilous journey which lasts nearly two years. BERIC THE BRITON A Story of the Roman Invasion. By G. A. HENTY. With 12 full-page Illustrations by W. PARKINSON. Crown 8vo, olivine edges, $1.50. This story deals with the invasion of Britain by the Roman legionaries. Beric, who is a boy-chief of a British tribe, takes a prominent part in the insurrection under Boadicea; and after the defeat of that heroic queen (in A. D. 62) he continues the struggle in the fen-country. Ultimately Beric is defeated and carried captive to Rome, where he is trained in the exercise of arms in a school of gladiators. At length he returns to Britain, where he becomes ruler of his own people. IN GREEK WATERS A Story of the Grecian War of Independence (1821-1827). By G. A. HENTY. With 12 full-page Illustrations by W. S. STACEY, and a Map. Crown 8vo, olivine edges, $1.50. Deals with the revolt of the Greeks in 1821 against Turkish oppression. Mr. Beveridge and his son Horace fit out a privateer, load it with military stores, and set sail for Greece. They rescue the Christians, relieve the captive Greeks, and fight the Turkish war vessels. * * * * * BY G. A. HENTY "No living writer of books for boys writes to better purpose than Mr. G. A. Henty."--_Philadelphia Press._ THE DASH FOR KHARTOUM A Tale of the Nile Expedition. By G. A. HENTY. With 10 full-page Illustrations by JOHN SCHÖNBERG and J. NASH. Crown 8vo, olivine edges, $1.50. In the record of recent British history there is no more captivating page for boys than the story of the Nile campaign, and the attempt to rescue General Gordon. For, in the difficulties which the expedition encountered, in the perils which it overpassed, and in its final tragic disappointments, are found all the excitements of romance, as well as the fascination which belongs to real events. REDSKIN AND COW-BOY A Tale of the Western Plains. By G. A. HENTY. With 12 full-page Illustrations by ALFRED PEARSE. Crown 8vo, olivine edges, $1.50. The central interest of this story is found in the many adventures of an English lad, who seeks employment as a cow-boy on a cattle ranch. His experiences during a "round-up" present in picturesque form the toilsome, exciting, adventurous life of a cow-boy; while the perils of a frontier settlement are vividly set forth in an Indian raid. HELD FAST FOR ENGLAND A Tale of the Siege of Gibraltar. By G. A. HENTY. With 8 full-page Illustrations by GORDON BROWNE. Crown 8vo, olivine edges, $1.50. This story deals with one of the most memorable sieges in history--the siege of Gibraltar in 1779-83 by the united forces of France and Spain. With land forces, fleets, and floating batteries, the combined resources of two great nations, this grim fortress was vainly besieged and bombarded. The hero of the tale, an English lad resident in Gibraltar, takes a brave and worthy part in the long defence, and it is through his varied experiences that we learn with what bravery, resource, and tenacity the Rock was held for England. * * * * * A List of Books by Kirk Munroe A SON OF SATSUMA Or, with Perry in Japan. By KIRK MUNROE. With 12 illustrations by HARRY C. EDWARDS. $1.00 net. This absorbing story for boys deals with one of the most interesting episodes in our National history. From the beginning Japan has been a land of mystery. Foreigners were permitted to land only at certain points on her shores, and nothing whatever was known of her civilization and history, her romance and magnificence, her wealth and art. It was Commodore Perry who opened her gates to the world, thus solving the mystery of the ages, and, in this thrilling story of an American boy in Japan at that period, the spirit as well as the history of this great achievement is ably set forth. IN PIRATE WATERS A Tale of the American Navy. Illustrated by I. W. TABER. 12mo, $1.25. The hero of the story becomes a midshipman in the navy just at the time of the war with Tripoli. His own wild adventures among the Turks and his love romance are thoroughly interwoven with the stirring history of that time. WITH CROCKETT AND BOWIE Or, Fighting for the Lone Star Flag. A Tale of Texas. By KIRK MUNROE. With 8 full-page Illustrations by VICTOR PÉRARD. Crown 8vo. $1.25. The story is of the Texas revolution in 1835, when American Texans under Sam Houston, Bowie, Crockett, and Travis fought for relief from the intolerable tyranny of the Mexican Santa Aña. The hero, Rex Hardin, son of a Texan ranchman and graduate of an American military school, takes a prominent part in the heroic defense of the Alamo, and the final triumph at San Jacinto. THROUGH SWAMP AND GLADE A Tale of the Seminole War. By KIRK MUNROE. With 8 full-page Illustrations by V. PÉRARD. Crown 8vo, $1.25. Coacoochee, the hero of the story, is the son of Philip, the chieftain of the Seminoles. He grows up to lead his tribe in the long struggle which resulted in the Indians being driven from the north of Florida down to the distant southern wilderness. AT WAR WITH PONTIAC Or, the Totem of the Bear. A Tale Of redcoat and redskin. By KIRK MUNROE. With 8 full-page illustrations by J. FINNEMORE. Crown 8vo, $1.25. A story when the shores of Lake Erie were held by hostile Indians. The hero, Donald Hester, goes in search of his sister Edith, who has been captured by the Indians. Strange and terrible are his experiences; for he is wounded, taken prisoner, condemned to be burned, but contrives to escape. In the end all things terminate happily. THE WHITE CONQUERORS A Tale of Toltec and Aztec. By KIRK MUNROE. With 8 full-page Illustrations. Crown 8vo, $1.25. This story deals with the conquest of Mexico by Cortez and his Spaniards, the "White Conquerors," who, after many deeds of valor, pushed their way into the great Aztec kingdom and established their power in the wondrous city where Montezuma reigned in splendor. MIDSHIPMAN STUART Or, the Last Cruise of the Essex. A Tale of the War of 1812. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.25. This is an absorbing story of life in the American Navy during the stirring times of our war of 1812. The very spirit of the period is in its pages, and many of the adventures of the Essex are studied from history. * * * * * BY ERNEST THOMPSON SETON LIVES OF THE HUNTED Being a true account of the doings of four quadrupeds and three birds. With 200 Illustrations. $1.75 net. (Postage, 15 cents.) "Should be put with Kipling and Hans Christian Andersen as a classic."--THE ATHENÆUM (London). WILD ANIMALS I HAVE KNOWN With 200 Illustrations. $2.00. Mr. Ernest Thompson Seton's first and most famous book. More than 100,000 have been sold so far. BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY THE BOOK OF JOYOUS CHILDREN Profusely Illustrated. The sweetness, the grace, the laughter, and the tenderness of Mr. Riley's best verse are found to the full in this book of delightful poems for and about children. The illustrations have been made under the author's supervision, and portray the scenes and the little heroes and heroines of the poems with artistic fidelity. BY CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY IN THE WASP'S NET The Story of a Sea Waif. Illustrated. $1.50 net. (Postage, 16 cents.) A vigorous story of the war of 1812. The hero, a midshipman, serves gallantly aboard two famous American ships, each bearing the name of Wasp, having many adventures of storm, battle, and capture. BY THOMAS NELSON PACE A CAPTURED SANTA CLAUS Illustrated in Colors. This exquisite story of childhood is one of the most delicate that even Mr. Page has written. It is an episode of the Civil War in which children are the little heroes. The period is the Christmas time, and the scene is between the lines of the Union and Confederate Armies. * * * * * JEB HUTTON, A GEORGIA BOY By JAMES B. CONNOLLY. Illustrated. $1.20 net. (Postage, 13 cents.) A thoroughly interesting and breezy tale of boy-life along the Savannah River by a writer who knows boys, and who has succeeded in making of the adventures of Jeb and his friends a story that will keep his young readers absorbed to the last page. KING MOMBO By PAUL DU CHAILLU. Author of "The World of the Great Forest," etc. With 24 illustrations. $1.50 net. (Postage, 16 cents.) The scene is the great African forest. It is a book of interesting experiences with native tribes, and thrilling and perilous adventures in hunting elephants, crocodiles, gorillas and other fierce creatures among which this famous explorer lived so long. A NEW BOOK FOR GIRLS By LINA BEARD and ADELIA B. BEARD. Authors of "The American Girl's Handy Book." Profusely Illustrated. An admirable collection of entirely new and original indoor and outdoor pastimes for American girls, each fully and interestingly described and explained, and all designed to stimulate the taste and ingenuity at the same time that they entertain. SEA FIGHTERS FROM DRAKE TO FARRAGUT By JESSIE PEABODY FROTHINGHAM. Illustrations by REUTERDAHL. $1.20 net. (Postage, 14 cents.) Drake, Tromp, De Reuter, Tourville, Suffren, Paul Jones, Nelson and Farragut are the naval heroes here pictured, and each is shown in some great episode which illustrates his personality and heroism. The book is full of the very spirit of daring and adventurous achievement. BOB AND HIS GUN By WILLIAM ALEXANDER LINN. With 8 Illustrations. The adventures of a boy with a gun under the instruction of his cousin, an accomplished sportsman. The book's aim is to interest boys in hunting in the spirit of true sport and to instruct in the ways of game birds and animals.