d three engineers made up a party to "take in" the
masquerade.

Special permit was required to be absent after sundown, as we were under
war regulations. No time was lost in getting to the hotel. The landlord
piloted us to the ballroom. Two "gourdes" were charged each for
admission. A large store with a brick floor was the extemporized
ballroom. In one corner, on a platform, was the orchestra, and four
"niggers" with clarionets composed it. In another end of the room was
the office, with a window opening into the store-room, that place being
transformed into a temporary barroom, the window-sill being the bar over
which the drinks were served. Lieutenant Mullen belonged in Baltimore,
Md., and he had no use for "niggers" under any circumstances, but he did
like liquor, and it seemed to have very little effect on him. When the
music struck up we all chose partners, with the exception of Mullen,
that gentleman selecting one side of the window-sill and keeping it all
night. My partner was neatly dressed and genteel in appearance, and, as
she was closely masked, I could not tell whether she was pretty or not.
She wore white kid gloves, and, as part of her wrists was exposed, I
could see by the smooth skin that she was young, and probably a
quadroon. That girl had the advantage of me, as I had no mask, and she
knew with whom she was dancing while I did not. However, both of us
seemed satisfied, for we were partners in every waltz.

About two in the morning we had to leave our coloured partners, for the
boat was to be at the landing for us at that hour. In the streets there
were no lamps. A light, drizzling rain made the darkness more intense.
Our most direct route was by a street facing the beach. A number of
warehouses had large quantities of logwood piled in front, and the
pieces were very crooked and lying in all positions. The doctor and I
were walking together. His vision was concentrated on the logwood, and
finally he expressed himself:

"Say, Thompson, did you ever see so many anchors piled up in a street
before?"

Of course Cape Haitien had a military dock for the men-of-war boats to
land at. On the shore end was a small guard-house, and as we passed it I
noticed a light through the open doorway. Looking inside, I saw several
Haitien soldiers sleeping soundly. In one corner of the shanty was a
most primitive lamp--a glass tumbler partly filled with water, and a
small quantity of oil on the top of it with a lighted