“Shame!” also; while others applauded.
“I will defend my deed,” said Proteau, struggling with the hoarseness of his voice, and pouring out a glass of wine to clear his throat. His hand was none of the steadiest as he did so. “Hush that band! There is no hearing oneself speak. Hush! I say; stop!” and swearing, he passionately shook his fist at the musicians, who were still making the air of the Marseillaise peal through the room. They instantly stopped, and departed.
“There! you have sent them out to tell what you have done,” observed a deputy.
“I will defend my deed,” Proteau repeated, when he had swallowed the wine, “I am confident the negroes have risen. I am confident the fellow came with bad intent.”
“No fear but the negroes will rise, anywhere in the world, where they have such as you for masters,” said Odeluc.
“What do you mean, sir?” cried Proteau, laying his hand on the hilt of his dripping sword.
“I mean what I say. And I will tell you, too, what I do not mean. I do not mean to fight to-night with any white: and least of all with one who is standing in a pool of innocent blood, of his own shedding.” And he pointed to Proteau’s feet, which were indeed soaked with the blood of his slave.
“Hush! hush! gentlemen!” cried several voices. “Here is more news!”
“Hide the body!” said Bayou, and as he spoke he stooped to lift it. Monsieur Brelle made shorter work. He rolled it over with his foot, and kicked it under the table. It was out of sight before the master of the hotel entered, followed by several negroes from the plain, to say that the “force” had risen on several plantations, had dismantled the mills, burned the sugar-houses, set fire to the crops, murdered the overseers, and, he feared, in some cases, the proprietors.
“Where?” “Whose estates?” “What proprietors?” asked every voice present.
“Where did it begin?” was the question the landlord applied himself first to answer.
“It broke out on the Noé estate, sir. They murdered the refiner and his apprentice, and carried off the surgeon. They left another young man for dead; but he got away, and told the people on the next plantation; but it was too late then. They had reached Monsieur Clement’s by that time, and raised his people. They say Monsieur Clement is killed; but some of his family escaped. They are here in the town, I believe.”
Some of the deputies now snatched their hats, and went out to learn where the fugitives were, and thus to get information, if possible, at first hand.
“All is safe in our quarter, at present, I trust,” said Papalier to Bayou; “but shall we be gone? Your horse is here, I suppose. We can ride together.”
“In a moment. Let us hear all we can first,” replied Bayou.
“Do you stay for that purpose, then, and look to our horses. I will learn what the Governor’s orders are, and come here for you presently.” And Papalier was gone.
When Bayou turned to listen again, Odeluc was saying—
“Impossible! incredible! Gallifet’s force risen! Not they? They would be firm if the world were crushed flat. Why, they love me as if I were their father!”
“Nevertheless, sir, you owe your safety to being my guest,” said the landlord, with a bow as polite as on the most festive occasion. “I am happy that my roof should—”
“Who brought this report?” cried Odeluc. “Who can give news of Gallifet’s negroes?” And he looked among the black faces which were clustered behind the landlord. No one spoke thence; but a voice from the piazza said—
“Gallifet’s force has risen. The canes are all on fire.”
“I will bring them to their senses,” said Odeluc, with sudden quietness. “I have power over them. The Governor will give me a handful of men from the town guard, and we shall set things straight before morning. The poor fellows have been carried away, while I was not there to stand by them—but making speeches here, like a holiday fool! I will bring them to their senses presently. Make way, friends—make way.”
And Odeluc stepped out among the blacks on the piazza, that being the shortest way to Government-House.
“I hope he is not too confident,” whispered a town deputy to a friend from the south. “But this is bad news. Gallifet’s plantation is the largest in the plain, and only eight miles off.”
A sort of scream, a cry of horror, from one who stood close by, stopped the deputy.
“Boirien! what is the matter?” cried a deputy, as Boirien hid his face with his arms upon the table, and a strong shudder shook his whole frame.
“Do not speak to him! I will tell you,” said another. “Oh, this is horrible! They have murdered his brother-in-law on Flaville’s estate, and carried off his sister and her three daughters into the woods. Something must be done directly. Boirien, my poor fellow, I am going to the Governor. Soldiers shall be sent to bring your sister into the town. We shall have her here before morning; and you must bring her and her family to my house.”
No one could endure to stay and hear more. Some went to learn elsewhere the fate of those in whom they were interested. Some went to offer their services to the Governor; some to barricade their own houses in the town; some to see whether it was yet possible to entrench their plantations. Some declared their intention of conveying the ladies of their families to the convent; the place always hitherto esteemed safe, amidst all commotions. It soon appeared, however, that this was not the opinion of the sisters themselves, on the present occasion, nor of the authorities of the town; for the muffled nuns were seen hurrying down to the quay, under the protection of soldiers, in order to take refuge on board the vessels in the bay. All night long, boats were plying in the harbour, conveying women, children, plate, and money, on board the ships which happened to be in the roads.
The landlord would have been glad of the help of any of his guests, in clearing his house; but they had no sympathy to spare—no time to think of his plate and wines. As the whites disappeared from the room, the blacks poured in. They allowed the landlord to sweep away his plate, but they laid hands on the wines; and many a smart speech, and many a light laugh, resounded within those walls till morning, while consternation reigned without. When these thoughtless creatures sauntered to their several homes in the sunrise, they found that such of their fellow-servants as they had been accustomed to look up to, as abler and more trusted than themselves, had disappeared, and no one would tell whither they were gone—only that they were quite safe.
When Monsieur Papalier returned to the hotel, from his cruise for information, he found his neighbour Bayou impatiently waiting on horseback, while Henri, still in his white apron, was holding the other horse.
“Here, sir—mount, and let us be off,” cried Bayou. “We owe it to my friend Henri, here, that we have our horses. The gentlemen from the country very naturally took the first that came to hand to get home upon. They say Leroy is gone home on a dray-mule. I rather expect to meet Toussaint on the road. If he sees the fires, he will be coming to look after me.”
“He cannot well help seeing the fires,” replied Papalier. “They are climbing up the mountain-side, all the way along the Haut du Cap. We shall be singed like two porkers, if we do not ride like two devils; and then we shall be lucky if we do not meet two thousand
