"It is impossible, impossible, Yes!" cried Leon, throwing up his hands in protest. "I told Monsieur your father that it was impossible for him. And for you——"
A graphic shrug completed the sentence.
Stuart felt a sinking at the pit of his stomach, for he was no braver than most boys. But the twist of his determination held him up.
"Leon," he said, trying to keep his voice steady, though he felt it sounded a little choked, "isn't there the juice of some root which will turn the skin brown, nearly black?"
"But, Yes, the plavac root."
The Haitian peered at the boy.
"You would make yourself a black man?" he continued.
Stuart ignored argument.
"Can you get some? Tonight? Right away?"
"Ah, well; you know—" Leon began.