Leyden paused and stared into the viscid water beneath. The land breeze was fanning steadily now; the regular pulses of sound had swelled in volume, but the interval was unchanged.
He continued, without looking up. “‘Derrière mornes, gagner mornes,’ as the Haytian proverb has it,” he sighed. “But I did not guess what was behind their solicitude for my comfort. Fouchère politely denied any wish to retire, and Madame said that she would wait a little longer before asking to be excused.
“‘Come, we will smoke a fresh cigar,’ said Fouchère, presently. He clapped his hands, but no servant appeared.
“‘The rascals are all out,’ he said, apologetically. ‘If you will pardon me, I will go myself.’
“I turned to Madame. ‘Do you not find some of these customs rather terrifying?’ I asked; ‘and this country, with its glaring sunlight and impenetrable shade, its rank, exuberant, primordial peoples——’ I heard her give a short gasp in her throat; then she turned to me, bringing her white face, with its delicate features and great, luminous eyes, close to mine.
“‘They live!’ she answered, in a low, fierce voice. ‘They live, and feel, and their blood runs——’
“She sank back, and at this moment Dr. Fouchère returned and offered me a cigar, which I took thankfully, for I wanted to drown the sensual smell of plant and fern wafted from the woods beneath and the maddening odor of the stephanotis growing in the garden at our feet. If he had offered me strong drink, cognac, absinthe, or even opium, I might have taken it, too, for there was something in the darkness of the night that blinded the reason and voices in the soft air and scent-laden breeze that called insidiously to the senses; and all the while droned on the amphorous note of the drum, though now it seemed to come from the inside, impelling one to fervid action.
“‘Those fools will dance and drink and revel to-night,’ growled Fouchère, ‘and to-morrow there will not be one in the village fit to stand upon his feet.’
“‘Then,’ said I, with an attempt at jocularity, ‘they may seek your professional advice.’
“‘No,’ he muttered, ‘they will go to the papa-loi—the priest—the arch-devil——’