"Have you a letter for me?" he asked quietly, supposing that his visitor had come with a message to him from one of the leaders of the rebellion.
Nat entered and closed the door behind him.
"Then you do not remember me, Toussaint?"
The negro recognized the voice, and the doubtful accent with which his visitor spoke French.
"You are the young English officer," he exclaimed, "though I should not have known you but for the voice. I heard that you were at Monsieur Duchesne's, and it was believed that you had fled to the woods with his wife and daughter. I am glad that they escaped."
"I have come from them, Toussaint—at least from the daughter, for the mother has had an attack of fever. She heard that the family here had also escaped, and she said at once that she felt sure you had aided them."
"I did so," the negro said quietly; "they were the family I served, and it was my duty to save them; moreover, they had always been kind to me. They are safe—I saw them down to the coast last night. I risked my life, for although the slaves round here respect me and look upon me as their leader, even that would not have saved me had they suspected that I had saved white people from death."
"But you are not with them, Toussaint, surely?"
The negro drew himself up.
"I am with my countrymen," he said; "I have always felt their position greatly. Why should we be treated as cattle because we differ in colour from others? I did my duty to my employers, and now that that is done I am free, and to-morrow I shall join the bands under François and Biassou. I regret most deeply that my people should have disgraced their cause by murders. Of the two thousand whites who have fallen fully one half are women and children, therefore there could have been but one thousand men who, if they had been allowed to go free down to the town, could have fought against us; and what are a thousand men, when we are half a million? It has been a mistake that may well ruin our cause; among the whites everywhere it will confirm their opinion of our race that we are but savages, brutal and bloodthirsty, when we have the opportunity. In France it will excite those against us who were before our friends, and French troops will pour into the islands, whereas, had the revolution been a peaceful one, it would have been approved by the friends of liberty there. It is terrible, nevertheless it makes it all the more necessary that those who have some influence should use it for good. Now that the first fury has passed, better thoughts may prevail, and we may conduct the war without such horrors; but even of that I have no great hope. We may be sure that the whites will take a terrible vengeance, the blacks will retaliate; it will be blood for blood on both sides. However, in a case like this the lives of individuals are as nothing, the cause is everything. I have myself no animosity against the whites, but many of my countrymen have just cause for hatred against them, and were any to try to interfere to prevent them from taking the vengeance they consider their right, it would cause dissension and so prejudice our chances of success. You can understand, then, that I shall hold myself aloof altogether from any interference. I am sorry for the ladies, but now that I have done my duty to my late employers, I have a paramount duty to discharge to my countrymen, and decline to interfere in any way."