Zalee looked anxiously around upon the floor. I thought that I knew what he was searching for, but I did not help him out. Perhaps she had discovered her loss, and had sent him for the locket. The Haïtien shook his head with a look as if much disappointed. Then he took up the pail, beckoned to me to come, and together the Smith and I left the cave, following in Zalee's footsteps. I noticed that Zalee did not seem at all surprised at the presence of the Smith. Then I argued that he had undoubtedly seen him before, at the time when he was unseen by us, and was to us a weird and ghostly personality.
We followed docilely in the footsteps of Zalee. He guided us up the hill and along the path that led to the ruins of the house. He stopped a moment by the remains of our home and shook his head, then stepped briskly onward.
Zalee walked very quickly. We could hardly keep pace with him. I argued that he wished to be far from the place before morning. There was little of incident in our trip. The same sweet odours filled the air, but as we got farther away from the coast we felt the breeze less, and finally there was none. Now a gentle rain began to fall, and the wood was thick with a warm steam, which filled our eyes and nostrils and almost blinded us. The shadows in the wood were dark, and the great trees seen through the mist seemed like giants standing here and there to bar the way. We were all the time ascending, which made the journey a tiresome one. Finally we came out upon a plateau, and here it was bare of trees. We could look over the lower hills and the treetops where our house had been. We marked its situation by the column of smoke which rose steadily upward straight into the air. The rain had stopped as suddenly as it came, the mist gradually cleared away, the moon had a chance to shine out, and we stood for a moment looking downward across the waters of the indentation that we called the bay and out to sea. Then Zalee led us back to a thick fringe of trees which skirted the lower hill. As we turned to face it I saw the great citadel of Christophe, the grim and ghastly La Ferrière, loom out upon its mountain prominence, and I shuddered as I looked, for we were at least six miles nearer than we had been at the cave. Off to the left there was a steep precipice, and over this, in the uncertain light, I saw that many large birds hovered and swept downward.
I looked inquiringly at the Smith.
"The precipice of the Grand Boucan," said he.
I had heard of this place. So that was where King Henry of the North flung his prisoners and servants when they did not succeed in pleasing him! I almost fancied that at that very moment I could see some poor wretch being hurled into the abyss which led to eternity. It was like a dreadful nightmare, and I turned away.
"I pray that we shall never get any nearer to that black brute!" said I.
Zalee put his finger on his lip and beckoned us to follow him. We again took up our march. As we were nearing the next steep rise, suddenly he put his hand on my shoulder and forced me down among the weeds and underbrush. The Smith did as he saw us do. In a few minutes there passed by us three tall men, griffe in shade. They carried enormous clubs, the most deadly bludgeons that I had ever seen. They were dressed in some light cloth, tied across their shoulders, and otherwise but for a clout were quite naked. They had large gold hoops in their ears, and upon the hand of each there glittered a thick silver ring.
"The body guard of the King," whispered the Smith. "I once saw one as a captive. I remember the dress."
The men plunged down the hill with great strides. They carried their clubs with ease, and swung them in their hands as they walked. They moved with light step and fast, and were soon lost among the lower trees.