“See,” the second companion pointed with his riding crop, “the harbor is practically landlocked. The entrance is only four miles wide and deep enough on both sides to permit the largest vessels to pass close to shore. At two hundred yards from land bottom is not touched with an eighty-fathom line.”
Douglass gazed in wonder. The waters of the bay spread out, smooth and unruffled as a great lake. The land on which they stood at the right of the entrance rose sharply. Opposite, a wooded plain extended. At the end of the bay clustered a group of buildings with the clear sheen of water right in the middle of them.
“Man could not have designed anything so perfect,” Douglass murmured.
The first Haitian spoke again.
“They say all the fleets in Europe could lie here secure from every wind. And the largest vessels in fifty fathoms of water could have cables on land.”
“It is incredible!”
The Haitian turned as if to mount his horse. He spoke carelessly.
“A powerful nation holding this harbor might easily control not only the Caribbeans but South America as well.”
“But a friendly nation,” Douglass reasoned with great sincerity, “with the means at hand might use this harbor to bring prosperity to all the Caribbean.”
“Ce soit possible!”