“They appear to forget that any form of evil but Ogé and you, father, ever entered their paradise. They say that, but for you, they might have been all this while in paradise. They have boasted of its wealth and its pleasures, till there is not a lady in the court of France who does not long to come and dwell in palaces of perfumed woods, marbles, and gold and silver. They dream of passing the day in breezy shades, and of sipping the nectar of tropical fruits, from hour to hour. They think a good deal, too, of the plate and wines, and equipages, and trains of attendants, of which they have heard so much; and at the same time, of martial glory and laurel crowns.”
“So these are the ideas with which they have come to languish on Tortuga, and be buried in its sands! These emigrants have much to answer for.”
“So Isaac and I perpetually told them; but they would not listen to anything said by an Ouverture. Nor could we wonder at this, when persons of every colour were given to the same boastings; so that Isaac and I found ourselves tempted into a like strain upon occasion.”
“It appears as if the old days had returned,” said Toussaint; “the days of Columbus and his crows. We are as the unhappy Indians to the rapacity of Europe. No wonder, if mulattoes and blacks speak of the colony as if it were the old Hayti.”
“They do, from Lanville, the coffee-planter, to our Mars Plaisir. Mars Plaisir has brought orders for I do not know how many parrots; and for pearls, and perfumes, and spices, and variegated woods.”
“Is it possible?” said Toussaint, smiling. “Does he really believe his own stories? If so, that accounts for his staying with you, instead of going with Isaac; which I wondered at. I thought he could not have condescended to us, after having lived in France.”
“He condescends to be wherever he finds most scope for boasting. On Tortuga, or among the ashes of Cap, he can boast no more. With us he can extol France, as there he extolled Saint Domingo. If August brings the destruction we look for, the poor fellow ought to die of remorse; but he has not head enough to suffer for the past. You can hold out till August, father?”
“If Maurepas joins us here with his force, I have no doubt of holding out till August. In these mornes, as many as will not yield might resist for life; but my own forces, aided by those of Maurepas, may effectually keep off the grasp of the French from all places but those in which they are actually quartered. A few actions may be needful,—morally needful,—to show them that the blacks can fight. If this lesson will not suffice, August, alas! will exterminate the foe. What do I see stirring among the ferns there? Is it more game?”
Placide started up.
“Too near us for game,” he whispered; and then added aloud, “Shall we carry home another deer? Shall I fire?”