“Have you not heard that Bug-Jargal is a prisoner?” replied he, impatiently.
“Yes; but what has Bug-Jargal to do with you?”
In his turn he seemed astonished, and then in a grave voice he answered—
“I am Bug-Jargal.”
CHAPTER XLIV.
I had thought that nothing that related to this extraordinary man could have surprised me. I had experienced some feelings of astonishment in finding the slave Pierrot transformed into an African King, but my admiration reached its height, when from his own confession I learned that he was the courageous, and magnanimous Bug-Jargal, the chief of the insurgents of Morne-Rouge; and I understood the respectful demeanour shown by all the rebels, even by Biassou, to Bug-Jargal, the King of Kakongo. He did not notice the impression that his last words had made upon me.
“They told me,” continued he, “that you were a prisoner in Biassou’s camp, and I hastened to deliver you.”
“But you told me just now that you too were a prisoner.”
He glanced inquisitively at me, as though seeking my reason for putting this natural question.
“Listen,” answered he. “This morning I was a prisoner in the hands of your friends, but I heard a report that Biassou had announced his intention of executing, before sunset to-day, a young prisoner named Leopold d’Auverney. They doubled my guards, and I was informed that my execution would immediately follow yours, and that in the event of escape, ten of my comrades would suffer in my stead. So you see that I have no time to lose.”