The boy had hoped, in some way, to get the negro out of the hut and to make a bolt for the woods where he might lie hidden, but this sudden action prevented any such ruse. He turned to the table to put into his knapsack the couple of changes of clothing he had brought. There was no way for him to take his father's clothes, but the boy opened the larger knapsack and took all the papers and documents.
"See here, Hippolyte," he said. "I give you all these clothes. I take the papers."
The negro grinned a white-toothed smile at the gift. He cared nothing about the papers. He would do what Jules had paid him to do, and no more.
As they left the hut, it seemed to Stuart that the nerve-racking beating of the tom-tom sounded louder and nearer. They walked a mile or so, then, as Hippolyte suggested, at a small half-abandoned plantation, they found mules. Once mounted, the negro set off at break-neck speed, caring nothing about the roughness of the road, all the more treacherous because of the dead-black of the shadows against the vivid green-silver patches where the tropical moonlight shone through.
"What's the hurry?" clamored Stuart, who could see no reason for this mad and reckless riding.
"The dance stop at dawn! I want to be back, Yes!"
They galloped on as before.
A few miles from the town, Stuart snatched at an idea which flashed upon him suddenly.
"Hippolyte," he said. "You want to get back for the voodoo dance?"
"But, Yes!"