Chapter Fourteen.
Spoiling Sport.
Nothing could exceed the astonishment of the Commissary on seeing Toussaint this morning. Hédouville was amusing himself, before the sun was high, alternately with three or four of his officers, in duetting with a parrot, which had shown its gaudy plumage among the dark foliage of a tamarind-tree in the garden. At every pause in the bird’s chatter, one of the gentlemen chattered in reply; and thus kept up the discord, to the great amusement of the party. Hédouville was just declaring that he had obtained the best answer—the loudest and most hideous—when he heard the swing of a gate, and, turning round, saw Toussaint entering from the barrack-yard.
“The ape!” exclaimed one of the officers, in a whisper.
“Who—who is it?” eagerly asked a naval captain, lately arrived.
“Who should it be but the black chief? No other of his race is fond enough of us to be for ever thrusting himself upon us. He is confoundedly fond of the whites.”
“We only ask him,” said Delon, another officer, “to like us no better than we like him, and leave us to manage our business our own way.”
“Say the word, Commissary,” whispered the first, “and he shall not go hence so easily as he came.”
“I should beg pardon, Commissary,” said Toussaint, as he approached, “for presenting myself thus—for entering by a back-way—if it were not necessary. The crisis requires that we should agree upon our plan of operations, before we are seen in the streets. It is most important that we should appear to act in concert. It is the last chance for the public safety.”