“Monsieur,” she said, in a very gentle voice, “what do you want?”
When about to speak to this being I experienced the sensation one would feel in presence of a sow to which it behoved one to say: “Madam.”
I did not quite know what to reply, and thought for a moment. Just then my gaze, wandering towards the window, fell upon a sort of picture that hung outside like a sign. It was a sign, as a matter of fact, a picture of a young and pretty woman, decolletée, wearing an enormous beplumed hat and carrying an infant in her arms; the whole in the style of the chimney boards of the time of Louis XVIII. Above the picture stood out this inscription in big letters:
Mme. BECOEUR
Midwife
BLEEDS AND VACCINATES
“Madam,” said I, “I want to see Mme. Bécoeur.”
The sow metamorphosed into a woman replied with an amiable smile:
“I am Mme. Bécoeur, Monsieur.”
II. PILLAGE. THE REVOLT IN SANTO DOMINGO.
I thought that I must be dreaming. None who did not witness the sight could form any idea of it. I will, however, endeavour to depict something of it. I will simply recount what I saw with my own eyes. This small portion of a great scene minutely reproduced will enable you to form some notion as to the general aspect of the town during the three days of pillage. Multiply these details ad libitum and you will get the ensemble.