“At your service, sir.”
“President Hippolyte requests you to call on him at three o’clock this afternoon.”
“Present my compliments to the President and tell him I will be at the palace at that hour,” I replied.
Belford rejoined me when the aide was out of sight. He said he did not like the looks of things and advised me to go back on board the steamer, which was still in the harbor. I told him I thought he was unnecessarily alarmed, but that anyway I had come to Hayti as an American citizen on legitimate business, and I proposed to stay until it had been transacted.
In the middle of the afternoon I donned full evening dress, according to the court requirement, and presented myself at the palace, where I was at once ushered into Hippolyte’s private reception room.
“What brings you here, Captain Boynton?” was the sharp salutation of the old black butcher.
“I am selling munitions of war,” I replied, and handed him my card.
“Is that all?” he asked, with a look as keen as a razor and in a voice almost as cutting.
“That is all.”
With this assurance, which seemed to carry conviction, Hippolyte relaxed considerably and shook hands with me.