“I little thought,” he heard an old negro merchant say to a neighbour—“I little thought ever to see an Ouverture planting cannon against his own colour.”
“Nor do you see it now, friend,” said Moyse. “The insurgents in the plain are of all colours—almost as many whites as blacks are discontented with the Commissary, and—”
“Turn your guns upon the Commissary, then, young soldier!”
“There is no need, friend. We shall be rid of the Commissary by an easier method; and these guns will be wheeled home, as harmless as they came. My belief is that not a drop of negro blood will be shed; and to that end do we plant our cannon. If we tranquillise the whites of the town, and empty Government-house of the French, the negroes of the plain will find none but friends when they arrive.”
“Oh, ay! That is your policy, is it?”
“That is L’Ouverture’s policy. Tell it everywhere. He is the best friend of the blacks who best makes it known.”
The explanation passed from mouth to mouth; and the new proclamation, signed by Toussaint and Hédouville, from hand to hand. The proclamation was posted in the corners of the streets; it was read aloud in the squares; it was sent, by messengers of every colour, among the insurgents in the plain. The effect of this, connected with the report, which every moment gained strength, that the Commissary was about to quit the colony was so evident, that Toussaint’s wishes seemed likely to be accomplished. The insurgents did not, indeed, disband: they had been too often deceived by the Commissary’s bland promises to do that before they had gained their point: but there was every reason to believe that they would march upon the town, only to secure the departure of Hédouville and his adherents, and the fidelity of the government to the terms of the proclamation.
When Toussaint came forth from his conference with Raymond, Afra and Euphrosyne were awaiting him in the corridor. He would have passed them with a smile; but he saw that Afra was urging Euphrosyne to speak, and that the blushing Euphrosyne dared not do so. He therefore stopped to tell Afra that his daughters had sent their love to her; that she was going to Pongaudin in a day or two; and that her friends there would be very glad to see her.
“Am I really going? Does my father say that I may?”
“He is going too: he will be there before you.”