"b.l.o.o.d.y doings!" Inocencio smiled admiringly upon his companion. "And who could cope with them better than yourself? You have a reputation, Excellency. The name of Pet.i.thomme Laguerre is known, even in my country."

"Indeed!" The black general's chest swelled.

"We have heroes of our own--men who have bathed in blood defending our rights--but our soldiers are only soldiers, they are not statesmen. We are not so fortunate as Hayti. We would welcome, we would idolize such a one. Would that we had him; would that we boasted a--Pet.i.thomme Laguerre."

The hearer was immensely gratified at this flattery and he straightened himself pompously, saying:

"But we are favored by G.o.d, we Haytians, and we have bred a race of giants. We have gained our proud position among the nations at the price of blood. Believe me, we are not ordinary men. Our soldiers are braver than lions, our armies are the admiration of the world, we have reached that level for which G.o.d created us. It requires strong hands to guide such a people. My country calls. I am her servant."

The moon was round and brilliant as they walked out upon the rotting wharf--all wharves in Hayti are decayed--the night had grown still, and through it came the gentle whisper of the tide, mingled with the babel from the town. Land odors combined with the pungent stench of the harbor in a scent which caused Inocencio's nostrils to quiver and memory to gnaw at him. He cast a worried look skyward, and in his unG.o.dly soul prayed for wind, for a breeze, for a gentle zephyr which would put his vengeance in his hands.

He had dropped anchor well offsh.o.r.e, hence the row was long, but as they neared the _Stella_ a breath came out of the open. It was hot, stifling, as if a furnace door had opened, and the yellow man smiled grimly into the night.

The crew were sleeping on the deck as the two came overside, but at sight of that glittering apparition of green and gold they rubbed their eyes open and stared in speechless amazement. They were reckless fellows, fit for any enterprise, but Inocencio had learned to keep a silent tongue, so they knew nothing of his present plans. They heard him saying:

"Into the cabin, Monsieur le General, if you will be so good. It is dark, yes, but there will be a light presently, and then--a sight for any soldier's eyes! Something that will gladden the heart of any patriot!" They went below, leaving the sailors open-mouthed. "A miserable place, Excellency," came the soft voice, "but the Cause! For Hayti one would suffer--A match, if you will be so kind. The lamp is at your hand." The skylight glowed a faint yellow, then was brightly illuminated. "For Hayti one would endure--much."

There followed the sound of a blow, of a heavy fall, then a loud, ferocious cry, and a subdued scuffling, during which the crew stared at one another. The giant 'Bajan crept forward finally and was met by Inocencio, emerging from the cabin. The captain was smiling, and he carefully closed the hatch before he gave orders to make sail.

The breeze was faint, so the schooner gathered headway slowly, but as the lights of Jacmel and of the anch.o.r.ed gunboat faded out astern Inocencio sat upon the deck-house and drummed with his naked heels upon the cabin wall. He lit one cigarette after another, and the helmsman saw that he was laughing silently.

Dawn broke in an explosion of many colors. The sun rushed up out of the sea as if pursued; night fled, and in its place was a blistering day, full grown. The breeze had died, however, and the _Stella_ wallowed in a gla.s.sy calm, her sails slatting, her booms creaking, her gear complaining to the drunken roll. The slow swells heeled her first to one side, then to the other, the decks grew burning hot; no faintest ripple stirred the undulating surface of the Caribbean. Afar, the Haytian hills wavered and danced through a veil of heat. The slender topmast described long measured arcs across the sky, like a schoolmaster's pointer; from its peak the halyards whipped and bellied.

"Captain!" The 'Bajan waited for recognition. "Captain!" Inocencio looked up finally. "There--toward Jacmel--there is smoke. See! We have been watching it."

The mulatto nodded.

"The smoke of a ship."

"Ah! A ship!" Inocencio smiled and the negro recoiled suddenly. All night long the master of the _Stella_ had sat upon the deck-house, staring at the sea and smoking. At times he had laughed and whispered to some one whom the helmsman could not see, but this was the first time he had smiled at any member of his crew. In fact, it was the first time the sailor had ever seen him smile. The 'Bajan withdrew and went forward to consult with his fellows. They eyed their employer curiously, fearfully, for much had happened to alarm them, not the least of which had been a furious commotion from below. Frightful curses had issued from the cabin, threats which had caused their limbs to tremble, but they had affected the captain like soothing music. It was very strange. It caused the sailors to look with concern upon that thin, low streamer in the distance; it led them to go aft in a body finally and speak their minds.

"The smoke is growing larger," they declared, and Inocencio roused himself sufficiently to look. "It is the war-ship. We are pursued. Who is this big man below?"

"He is a--friend of mine, Pet.i.thomme Laguerre--"

"Laguerre!"

"What did I tell you?" exclaimed the 'Bajan, breathlessly.

"What shall we do?" one of them inquired in a panic. "That smoke! The wind has forsaken us." He shuffled his bare feet uncomfortably. "We will be shot for this."

Inocencio tossed away his cigarette and rose; he lifted his eyes aloft.

The slim topmast arrested his attention as it swept across the sky, and he watched it for a moment; then to the giant sailor he said: "You will find a new rope forward. Make it fast to the end of this halyard and run it through yonder block." He slid back the hatch and descended leisurely into the cabin.

Laguerre was sitting in a chair with his arms and legs securely bound, but he had succeeded in working considerable havoc with the furnishings of the place as well as with his splendid uniform. His lips foamed, his eyes protruded at sight of his captor; a trickle of blood from his scalp lent him a ferocious appearance.

Inocencio seated himself, and the two men stared at each other across the bare table.

Laguerre spoke first, his tongue thick, his voice hoa.r.s.e from yelling.

Inocencio listened with fixed, unwavering gaze.

"You tricked me neatly," the former raved. "You are a government spy, I presume. The government feared me. Well, then, it was bold work, but you will listen to what I say now. We will settle this matter quickly, you and I. I have money. You can name your price."

The hearer curled his thin lips. "So! You have money. You offer to buy your life. Old Julien had no money; he was poor."

Pet.i.thomme did not understand. "I am too powerful to remain in prison,"

he declared. "The President would not dare harm me; no man dares harm me; but I am willing to pay you--"

"All Hayti could not buy your life, Laguerre!"

Some tone of voice, some haunting familiarity of feature, set the prisoner's memory to groping blindly. At last he inquired, "Who are you?"

"I am Floreal."

The name meant nothing. Laguerre's life was black; many Floreals had figured in it.

"You do not remember me?"

"N-no, and yet--"

"Perhaps you will remember another--a woman. She had a scar, just here."

The speaker laid a tobacco-stained finger upon his left cheek-bone, and Laguerre noticed for the first time that the wrist beneath it was maimed as from a burn. "It was a little scar and it was brown, in the candle-light. She was young and round and her body was soft--" The mulatto's lean face was suddenly distorted in a horrible grimace which he intended for a smile. "She was my wife, Laguerre, by the Church, and you took her. She died, but she had a child--your child."

The huge black figure shrank into its green-and-gold panoply, the bloodshot eyes rested upon Inocencio with a look of terrified recognition.

"I have no children, Laguerre; no wife; no home! I am poor and you have become great. There was an old man whom you stretched by the wrists, in the moonlight. Do you remember him? And the old woman, my mother, whom one of your soldiers shot? Maximilien did it, but I killed him and Congo! And now there is only you."

"That was--long ago." The prisoner rolled his eyes desperately; his voice was uncertain as he whined, "I am rich--richer than anybody knows."

"Others had more money than we, eh?"

The general nodded.

"Pierrine is dead, and you would have been the President. It is well that I came in time." Again Captain Ruiz smiled, and the corpulent soldier was shaken loosely as by an invisible hand. "Come now! Your friends are approaching and I must prepare you to greet them."

He untied the knots at Laguerre's ankles, then motioned him toward the cabin door.

That streamer of smoke had grown; it was a black smudge against the sky when the two gained the deck, and at sight of it the general shouted:

"My ship! The gunboat! Ho! If harm comes to me--"

Inocencio took one end of the new rope which had been run through the block at the masthead, and knotted it about his prisoner's wrists, then with his knife he severed the other bonds.

"Give way!" he ordered.

The crew held back, at which he turned upon them so savagely that they hastened to obey. They put their weight upon the line; Laguerre's arms were whisked above his head, he felt his feet leave the deck. He was dumb with surprise, choked with rage at this indignity, but he did not understand its significance.