General Brunet brought with him no more than his allotted twenty
soldiers, and a secretary. Christophe ascertained to his own
satisfaction, and let the household know, that not another French
soldier breathed within a circuit of some miles, when the evening closed
in; so that the ladies threw off constraint and fear together as the two
generals, with their secretaries, retired to the library, after coffee.
Placide had been with Christophe all day, and was the means by which the
household had been assured of the tranquillity of the neighbourhood. He
was of the patrol which was to watch the roads during the night. It
seemed improbable, however, that, of all nights, that should be chosen
for an assault when the Ouvertures must be particularly roused to
observation, and when a French general was in their hands. Of all
nights, this was probably the safest; yet Placide, glad, perhaps, of an
excuse to keep out of the way of a guest from Paris, chose to mount
guard with Christophe.
Denis was permitted to be in the library, as the business was not
private, and, to one who knew the country as well as he did, very
entertaining. For a time he found it so, while all the five were
stooping over the maps, and his father was explaining the nature of the
localities, and the interests of the inhabitants, and while words
dropped from General Brunet which gave an insight into that object of
Denis's strong curiosity--the French encampment on Tortuga. When all of
this kind had been said, and the conversation turned upon points of
military science or management, which he did not care about, Denis drew
off to the window, and thence into the balcony, where he looked out upon
the night--vainly, for it was cloudy, and there was yet no moon. The
air was cool and pleasant, however, and he remained leaning over the
balcony, revolving what he had heard, and picturing to himself the
little court of Madame Leclerc--so near, and yet out of his reach.
While thus absorbed, it is probable that some distant voice of song
instigated him to sing also. Like his race generally, Denis was almost
always singing; always when alone and meditative. It is probable that
some notes of the air sung by those who looked to August for freedom--
sung by the whole negro population--now caught his ear; for he began,
hardly to sing, but to murmur this popular air. The words were not
heard within; and it would not have mattered if they had been; for the
words were in the negro language. But the air was, by this time,
intelligible enough to the invaders. In the interest of conversation,
nothing escaped the eye of Toussaint. He saw an exchange of glances
between General Brunet and his secretary, and a half smile on the face
of each which he did not like.
He thought it best to take no notice; but, far from leaving off, Denis
sang louder as he sank deeper into reverie. Monsieur Pascal became
aware of some embarrassment, and of its cause.
"Denis, you disturb us," he called out from the table.
They heard no more of Denis; and their business proceeded. Vexed,
partly with himself, and partly at having been rebuked in General
Brunet's hearing, he went round the house by the balcony, and thence to
the upper gallery, which commanded the finest sea view in the day-time,
and the freshest sea breezes at night. There, in a somewhat perverse
mood, he sang for his own pleasure the air which he had been checked for
singing unconsciously. He remained there a long while--he did not know
how long--till the moon rose, when he remembered that it must be
midnight. As no one had called him, he supposed that the party in the
library were still in consultation.
As his eye rested on the bay, while he was considering whether he must
not go in, he perceived something dark lying on the waters between the
island and the shore. As he strained his sight, and as the waned moon
rose higher, he discovered that it was a ship. It was strange. No ship
ever had business there; though he had heard that there was a deep
channel, and good anchorage in that little bay. It was very strange.
But something stranger still soon met his ear--sounds, first odd, then
painful--horrible. There was some bustle below--on the beach, within
the little gate--he thought even on the lawn. It was a scuffle; there
was a stifled cry. He feared the guard were disarmed and gagged--
attacked on the side of the sea, where no one dreamed of an assault, and
where there was no Christophe to help. Denis knew, however, how to
reach Christophe. He did the right thing. Lest his purpose should be
prevented if he entered the house, he clambered up the roof to its
ridge, and swung the heavy alarm-bell. Its irregular clang banished
sleep in a moment from a circuit of many miles. It not only startled
the ladies of the family from their beds; but every fisherman rushed
from his hut upon the shore. Christophe and Placide were galloping to
Pongaudin almost before they had drawn a breath. Every beast stirred in
its lair; and every bird rustled in its roost. Rapid, however, as was
the spread of sound, it was too late to save L'Ouverture.
L'Ouverture himself had but a few moments of uncertainty to endure. In
the midst of earnest conversation, suspicious sounds were heard. The
two Frenchmen rushed to the door of the library, and Monsieur Pascal to
the balcony. Monsieur Pascal re-entered in an instant, saying--
"The house is surrounded--the lawn is crowded. Make no resistance, and
they may spare your life."
"Hark! The bell! There is hope," said Toussaint. "No resistance! but
let us gain time."
The door was burst open, and with General Brunet entered a personage
whom he introduced as Admiral Ferrari, followed by a file of grenadiers.
"What can be your errand at this hour?" asked Toussaint.
"I have orders from the Captain-General to arrest you," replied Admiral
Ferrari. "Your guards are disarmed and bound. Our troops are
everywhere. You are dead if you resist. Deliver up your sword!"
"I shall not resist such a force as you have thought it necessary to
bring against me," replied Toussaint, handing his sword to the admiral.
"Am I to be a prisoner here, in my own house?"
"No, indeed! I have orders to convey you and your family to Cap
Francais. No delay! To the boats this moment! You will find your
family on board the frigate, or on the way to it."
"Do what you will with me; but Madame L'Ouverture is in weak health.
Suffer her and my children to remain at home."
"Lose no more time. General. March! or we must carry you."
Voices of lamentation and of passion were heard in the corridor, which
quickened L'Ouverture's movements more than threats or insults could
have done. He left the library, and found the ladies of the household
in the corridor--Margot weeping and trembling, and Genifrede addressing
Monsieur Coasson in a tone of high anger.
"You here! Monsieur Coasson!" said Toussaint; "and availing yourself
once more of the weakness and woes of women, I perceive."
"I came as guide," replied Monsieur Coasson. "The admiral and his
troops needed some one to show them the way; and, as you are aware, I
was qualified to do so. I have always felt, too, that I had a sort of
appointment to fulfil with this young lady. Her kind expressions
towards the whites on my last visit might be considered a sort of
invitation to come again--with such a train as you see," pointing to the
stiff row of grenadiers who stood behind.
Genifrede groaned.
"Make yourself happy with your train," said Toussaint, as he seized the
wretch by the collar, hurled him back among the grenadiers, and kicked
him over as he lay, introducing great disorder into the formal
arrangements of that dignified guard.
This would have been the last moment of Toussaint, if General Brunet had
not drawn his sword, and commanded every one to stand back. His orders,
he said, were to deliver his prisoner alive.
"Come, my love," said Toussaint to Madame L'Ouverture. "We are to sleep
on board a frigate this night. Come. Genifrede! We may sleep in
peace. General Brunet will hardly be able to digest your hospitality,
my Margot; but _you_ may sleep. Who else?" he asked, as he looked round
upon his trembling household.
"We are following," said Monsieur Pascal, who had his wife and
Euphrosyne on either arm.
"Pardon me," said General Brunet. "Our orders extend only to General
Toussaint and his family. You must remain. Reverend father," he said
to Father Laxabon, "you will remain also--to comfort any friends of
General Toussaint whom you may be able to meet with to-morrow. They
will be all inconsolable, no doubt."
Monsieur Coasson whispered to the admiral, who said, in consequence,
bowing to Euphrosyne--
"I can answer for this young lady being a welcome guest to Madame
Leclerc. If she will afford to a countryman the pleasure and honour of
conveying her, it will give him joy to introduce her to a society worthy
of her."
"I do not wish to see Madame Leclerc," said Euphrosyne, speaking with
surprising calmness, though her cheek was white as ashes. "I wish to be
wherever I may best testify my attachment to these my honoured friends,
in the day of their undeserved adversity."
She looked from Monsieur Pascal to L'Ouverture.
"Stay with those who can be your guardians," said Toussaint.
"For our sakes," added Genifrede.
"Stay with us!" cried Monsieur Pascal and Afra.
"Farewell, then," said Euphrosyne, extending her arms to Madame
L'Ouverture.
"We are losing time," said General Brunet, as the clang of the
alarm-bell was heard again. By his order, some soldiers went in search
of the traitor who was ringing the bell; and others pushed the captive
family before them towards the door. Monsieur Coasson thrust himself
between the parting friends, and began to count the family, in order to
tell who was missing. It would not do, he observed, to leave any
behind.
"Lose no more time," said the admiral. "Those who may be left behind
are cared for, I promise you. We have a hundred of them safe already."
"A hundred of whom?" asked Toussaint, as he walked.
"Of your friends," replied Admiral Ferrari.
This was too true. A hundred of Toussaint's most attached adherents had
been seized this night. No one of them was ever again heard of in the
island.
At the door of the mansion Denis was brought forward, guarded. His eyes
were flashing fire.
"The country is up!" he cried. "I got good service out of the old bell
before they found me."
"Right, my boy! Thank you!" said his father, cheerfully.
"Give Genifrede to me, father. My mother is ready to sink."
Proudly he supported his sister to the boats, carrying her on so rapidly
as to prevent the need of any soldier speaking to her.
There was an array of boats along the shore of the bay. Distant firing
was heard during the whole time that the prisoners and the troops were
embarking.
"They must be very much afraid of us," observed Denis, looking round, as
soon as he had taken his place beside his sister in the boat. "They
have given us above a hundred guards, I believe."
"They are afraid of us," said Toussaint.
"There is terrible fighting somewhere," murmured the weeping Margot. "I
am afraid Placide is in the midst of it."
"He is in his duty if he be," said Toussaint.
Placide had discharged this kind of duty, however, and now appeared to
fulfil the other--of sharing the captivity of his parents. He leaped
into the boat, breathless, after it had pushed off from the shore.
"In time, thank God!" gasped he.
"He can hardly speak!" exclaimed his mother. "He is wet! He is
wounded--cruelly wounded!"
"Not wounded at all, mother. Whole in heart and skin! I am soaked in
the blood of our enemies. We have fought gloriously--in vain, however,
for to-night. Latortue is shot; and Jasmin. There are few left but
Christophe; but he is fighting like a lion."
"Why did you leave him, my son?" asked Toussaint.
"He desired me to come, again and again, and I fought on. At last I was
cut off from him. I could not give any more help there; and I saw that
my business lay here. They say this frigate is the _Creole_. Whither
bound, I wonder?"
"To Cap Francais," replied the officer in the stern: "to join the
_Heros_, now in the roads there."
"The _Heros_--a seventy-four, I think," said L'Ouverture.
"A seventy-four--you are correct," replied the officer. No one spoke
again.