“You are right,” replied Biassou. He then paused, as if to note what the effect would be upon me of what he was going to say, and then added, “But it will depend upon yourself whether you ever carry the message or not.”
“What do you mean?” exclaimed I, in astonishment.
“Why,” replied he, “that your life depends upon yourself, and that you can save it if you will.”
This sudden paroxysm of pity—the first, and no doubt the last, which had ever possessed Biassou—surprised me much, and astonished the Obi so greatly that he leapt from the position which he had so long maintained, and, placing himself face to face with the general, addressed him in angry tones.
“What are you saying? Have you forgotten your promise? Neither God nor you can dispose of this life, for it belongs to me.”
At that instant I thought that I recognized the voice; but it was but a fleeting recollection, and in a moment had passed away.
Biassou got up from his seat without betraying any anger, spoke for a few moments in whispers to the Obi, and pointed to the black flag which I had already remarked, and after a little more conversation the Obi nodded in sign of assent. Both of them then reverted to their former positions.
“Listen to me,” said the general, drawing from his pocket the dispatch which Jean François had sent to him. “Things are going ill. Bouckmann has been killed. The whites have slaughtered more than two thousand of our men in the district of Cul-de-Sac. The colonists are continuing to establish and to fortify military posts. By our own folly we have lost the chance of taking Cap, and it will be long before another occasion will present itself. On the eastern side our line of march has been cut by a river, and the whites have defended the passage by a pontoon battery and a fortified camp. On the south side they have planted artillery on the mountainous road called the Haut-du-Cap. The position is, in addition, defended by a strong stockade, at which all the inhabitants have laboured, and in front of it there is a strong chevaux de frise. Cap, therefore, is beyond our reach. Our ambush in the ravines of Dompté-Mulâtre was a failure; and, to add to all these misfortunes, the Siamese fever has devastated our camps. In consequence, the Grand Admiral (and I agree with him) has decided to treat with the Governor Blanchelande and the Colonial Assembly. Here is the letter that we have addressed to the assembly on this matter. Listen!
“ ‘Gentlemen of the House of Deputies,—
“ ‘In the great misfortunes which have afflicted this great and important colony we have also been enveloped, and there remains nothing for us to say in justification of our conduct. One day you will render us the justice that our conduct merits.