“Toussaint L’Ouverture!” he heard again from afar, and bowed his head, overpowered with hope.
“Toussaint L’Ouverture!” repeated some light gay voices close at hand. His boys were come, choosing to bring themselves the news from Breda—that Margot and her daughters, and old Dessalines and Moyse were all there, safe and happy, except for their dismay at finding the cottage and field in such a state of desolation.
“They will not mind when they hear that they are to live in a mansion henceforward,” said Placide. “Jean Français had better have stood by his colour, as we do.”
“And how have you stood by your colour, my young hero?”
“I told Jean in the camp to-day—”
“Jean! In the camp! How came you there?”
“We were so near, that I galloped in to see what they thought of your leaving, and who had followed you.”
“Then I thank God that you are here.”
“Jean caught me; but the General bade him let me go, and asked whether the blacks made war upon children. I told him that I was not a child; and I told Jean that you had rather live in a cave for the sake of the blacks, than go off to the court of Spain—”
“What made you fancy I should go there?”