“Here, sir—mount, and let us be off,” cried Bayou. “We owe it to my friend Henri, here, that we have our horses. The gentlemen from the country very naturally took the first that came to hand to get home upon. They say Leroy is gone home on a dray-mule. I rather expect to meet Toussaint on the road. If he sees the fires, he will be coming to look after me.”
“He cannot well help seeing the fires,” replied Papalier. “They are climbing up the mountain-side, all the way along the Haut du Cap. We shall be singed like two porkers, if we do not ride like two devils; and then we shall be lucky if we do not meet two thousand devils by the way.”
“Do you suppose the road is safe, Henri?” asked Bayou. “I know you will tell me truth.”
“Indeed, master, I know nothing,” replied Henri. “You say you shall meet Toussaint. I will ride with you till you meet him, if you will. Our people all know him and me.”
“Do so, Henri. Do not wait to look for another horse. Jump up behind me. Mine is a strong beast, and will make no difficulty, even of your weight. Never mind your apron. Keep it for a flag of truce, in case we meet the enemy.”
They were off, and presently emerged from the comparative darkness of the streets into the light of the fires. None of the three spoke, except to urge on the horses up the steep, sandy road, which first presented an ascent from the town, and then a descent to the plain, before it assumed the level which it then preserved to the foot of the opposite mountains, nearly fifty miles off. No one appeared on the road; and the horsemen had, therefore, leisure to cast glances behind them, as they were slowly carried up the ascent. The alarm-bell was now sending its sullen sounds of dismay far and wide in the air, whose stillness was becoming more and more disturbed by the draughts of the spreading fires, as the canes caught, like torches, up the slopes to the right. Pale twinkling lights, sprinkled over the cape and the harbour-lights which looked like glow-worm tapers amidst the fiery atmosphere, showed that every one was awake and stirring in the town, and on board the ships; while an occasional rocket, mounting in the smoky air, from either the Barracks or Government-House, showed that it was the intention of the authorities to intimate to the inhabitants of the remoter districts of the plain that the Government was on the alert, and providing for the public safety.
On surmounting the ridge, Henri stretched out his hand, and pulled the bridle of Monsieur Bayou’s horse to the left, so as to turn it into a narrow, green track which here parted from the road.
“What now, sir?” cried Papalier, in a tone of suspicion, checking his horse, instead of following.
“You may, perhaps, meet two thousand devils, if you keep the high road to the plain,” answered Henri, quietly. To Monsieur Bayou he explained that Toussaint would probably choose this road, through Madame Ogé’s plantation.
“Come on, Papalier; do not lose time. All is right enough,” said Bayou. “The grass-tracks are the safest to-night, depend upon it.”