"He is in great danger; indeed, indeed he is."
"Where are the soldiers?" asked Euphrosyne. "Do send for them directly:
and ask him to lock himself up in the safest place till they come."
"Tell me what you mean, and then--"
"I think he is in danger, now the white rulers are gone, from the people
of my colour," said Afra: "and I fear, this very night."
"Do you mean that they intend to murder him?"
"Perhaps so. Perhaps to seize him, and send him to Rigaud;--and that
will be only a slower murder."
"But how--"
"I will tell you. Euphrosyne and I sat rather late behind the
jalousies, in the dark, to see the people bring in flowers and fruit
from the country for the morning. I saw many mulattoes in the walk; but
none of them had fruit or flowers. I watched them. I know their ways,
their countenances, and their gestures. I saw they were gloomy and
angry; and I found out that it is with L'Ouverture. They were plotting
mischief, I am certain."
"But why so suddenly?--why to-night?"
"So we thought at first; and we went to rest, intending to tell
L'Ouverture to-morrow. But the more we thought and talked about it, the
more uneasy we grew. We were afraid to go to sleep without telling some
one in this wing; so we stole along the corridors in the dark, and saw
that there was a light in this library, and ventured to look in, hoping
it might be L'Ouverture himself."
"He is asleep in a room near. I will waken him. You are not afraid to
stay here a few moments, while I am gone?"
"Oh, no."
"He may wish to question you himself."
"Tell him," said Afra, speaking rapidly, "that the mulattoes are jealous
of him, because they think he wants to have all the power in his own
hands. They say--`There go the ships! There are no whites in power
now. So much the better! But here is Raymond displaced, and
L'Ouverture is all in all. We shall have every office filled with
blacks; and the only chance for our degraded colour is in the fields or
in the removal of this black.' Tell him this: but oh! be sure you tell
him my father and I do not agree in one word of it."
"She would do anything in the world to save him," said Euphrosyne.
"You are dear as a daughter to him," said Monsieur Pascal, with eyes of
love, as he left them.
"I wish I was sure of that," said Afra. "But what can be done,
Euphrosyne? He has no guard! And my father is not here, nor any one to
help us! I fancy every moment I hear them coming."
"I am not much afraid," said Euphrosyne, her teeth chattering all the
while. "He is so powerful! He never seems to want anybody to protect--
scarcely to help him."
"But asleep! After midnight! Think of it! If they should seize him
and bind him before he is awake!"
This fear was removed by his appearance, dressed, and like himself. He
smiled at the girls, offered them each an arm, and said he had a sight
to show them, if they would look at it without speaking. He led them in
the dark to a window, whence they looked down upon a courtyard, which
was full of soldiers, awake and armed. In another moment, Toussaint was
conducting them along the corridors, towards their own apartments, "You
knew!" whispered Afra. "We need not have come. I believe you always
know everything."
"I suspected a plan to prevent the publishing of the amnesty to-morrow,
and the filling up the offices of the colony with blacks. I suspected,
but was not certain. Your intelligence has confirmed me."
"What will happen?" asked Euphrosyne, trembling. "Will anybody be
killed?"
"Not to-night, I trust. You may go to rest secure that no blood will be
spilled to-night; and to-morrow, you know, is a holy-day. If you hear a
step in the corridor of this your wing, do not be alarmed. I am going
to send one of my own guard."
He left them at their door, after standing to hear them fasten it
inside.
The girls kept awake as long as they could, calling each other's
attention to every fancied noise. They could be sure of nothing,
however, but of the march of the sentinel along the corridor. They both
slept at last, and were wakened in broad daylight by the gouvernante,
who entered in great trepidation, to say that there had been a plot
against the Commander-in-chief;--that the window of his chamber had been
entered at two o'clock by a party of mulattoes, who had all been seized
by L'Ouverture's soldiers. How it came to end so--how soldiers enough
happened to be at hand at the right moment--how it was all done without
fighting, without noise enough even to break her rest (and she always
know if anybody stirred)--the gouvernante could not tell. All she knew
was, that L'Ouverture was the most considerate creature in the world.
As soon as the eleven mulattoes who had been taken were put into
confinement, L'Ouverture had sent one of his own guards into her
corridor to prevent her being alarmed for herself and her young charge.