It was at this moment that the little door that divided Sestrina’s chamber from the next apartment opened and revealed Claircine’s ebony-hued, smiling face. In her dusky hand she held a silver salver, whereon was a small decanter of light Haytian wine. Claircine had, and with commendable discreetness, kept in the background till that moment. She had heard voices, and had immediately jumped out of bed and, placing her eye to the keyhole, had seen Clensy and her mistress sitting on the settee, their faces turned one toward the other as they kissed and embraced.
“Mon Dieu, si aoe ma eperdi suka,” she had cried in the creole tongue as she lifted her hands to the ceiling in horror—and then peeped again.
“Ah, Claircine, is he not handsome?” whispered Sestrina as she and the negress stood trembling by the open casement through which Clensy a moment before had taken his undignified departure.
“You have now heard for yourself what he thinks of you and of your kind face and nice figure,” said Sestrina, referring to Clensy’s wicked flattery when he looked the negress straight in the eyes a few moments before.
“Ah, si ver du pero, ma seque,” murmured the old negress as she placed her dusky hand above her throbbing heart, little dreaming how Clensy had been shocked at the sight of her skinny legs an hour before!
Sestrina’s heart fluttered as she leaned over the balcony’s railing and watched her lover slowly descend, step by step, down the thick stems of the grape-vine. “Mon Dieu,” she wailed as she noticed that the moonrise was sending waves of pale light over the distant mountain ranges and far down into the valleys by the palace grounds, “he will be seen!” But her fears were needless. She saw Clensy’s form hasten across the yam patch far beyond the palace grounds. The next moment he had disappeared into the depths, under the great mahogany trees.
The next day Clensy suddenly walked into Biglow’s lodgings, near the market-place at Selle. Adams was sitting by the window that opened on to the veranda, tugging his side-whiskers. His face wore a serious expression, and was as red as boiled beetroot.
“Where yer been to?” he said in a husky voice as he stared up at Clensy.