We kept up a desultory conversation, the Skipper and I, for an hour or more. I could not bear to hear him complain of the cold and hardness of the stones on which he sat. Northerners imagine, I believe, that one never feels cold in that tropic clime, but in that supposition they are quite mistaken. The heat and the constant exudations from the skin thin the blood, and when one is out of the sun and in the dark interior of the earth a sudden chill comes trembling over one, creeping, creeping, creeping, until the whole body is in an ague, which nothing but a little raiment and plenty of sunshine can relieve.
I judge that I had been in the cell for nearly an hour when I heard some hurried footsteps coming down the corridor. They stopped at my door. The bolt was withdrawn with a loud clatter, and two of the King's body guard stood in the doorway.
"Now I s'pose I'll never see you again," groaned the Skipper. Fearful that they would understand that we had been communicating and that we were friends, I made no reply, but looked round the cell, astonished at the sound of the voice. I addressed myself apparently to the guards in as fierce a tone as I could command. They thought me scolding at them, while my words were really addressed to the Skipper.
"Be quiet, for Heaven's sake!" said I. "They must not know that we are friends." My tone was so sharp and dictatorial, and I looked so squarely in the guard's eyes, that he began in a rough way to answer me, bowing slightly and beckoning me to follow. Then I heard the Skipper's voice in wonder:
"Why, Mr. Jones, are you speaking to me?"
Again I looked above, overhead, and round the walls of my room as if I were daft, and then fiercely at the guard. Again I spoke to the Skipper in my roughest way through these men, who could not understand a word.
"Don't be foolish, Captain," I said, glaring at the guard and shaking my fists in their faces. "They think I am talking to them. I am shaking my fist almost against their black noses, but they don't know that I am talking to you. Be careful, and don't, for Heaven's sake, address me while they are here."
I howled these words and danced up close, and glared at the tallest guard. "They will find us out surely. I'll tell you all about it when I get back, if they ever bring me back."
"Can't you lend me a trouser leg?" groaned the Skipper. But I saw that an answer would be more than foolish, and so turned and followed my guides where they led.
When I emerged from the corridor I found that I was facing toward the north. Our captors had brought us a long way round, so that we should go to the buildings where the offices, prisons, and the like were situated. To go to the palace itself we must walk northward. I had heard of this palace of Sans Souci, but no words had been powerful enough to give me an adequate idea of its wonderful beauty and grandeur. It was situated at the head of its beautiful and fertile valley, surrounded at the back and sides by hills, which, from their immediate rise, seemed to attain to the dignity of great mountains. The grand roads which Christophe had built and was still building ran down into the beautiful valley on their way to Le Cap. At the back of the palace there were gardens filled with rare flowers. Fruits were here, sunny arbours, and shady groves. Cascades of foaming water dashed downward from the neighbouring cliffs, and, caught at the base, were turned into irrigating channels or carried to the palace to supply its various needs. As I walked onward with my guard, I recalled the many facts that I had heard about the delights of this famous garden of the gods, and I wondered what manner of man it could be who could devise all this beauty during one phase of his existence, and fling helpless mortals to birds of prey at another.