s.

"Therese," said he, "what will you do this night and to-morrow? Who
will take care of you?"

"I know not--I care not," said she. "There are no whites here; and I am
well where they are not. Will you not let me stay here?"

"Did Jacques say, and say truly, that you are his wife?"

"He said so, and truly. I have been wretched, for long--"

"And sinful. Wretchedness and sin go together."

"And I was sinful; but no one told me so. I was ignorant, and weak, and
a slave. Now I am a woman and a wife. No more whites, no more sin, no
more misery! Will you not let me stay here?"

"I will: and here you will presently be safe, and well cared for, I
hope. My wife and my children are coming home--coming, probably in a
few hours. They will make this a home to you till Jacques can give you
one of your own. You shall be guarded here till my Margot arrives.
Shall it be so?"

"Shall it? Oh, thank God! Jacques," she cried, as she heard her
husband's step approaching. "Oh, Jacques! I am happy. Toussaint Breda
is kind--he has forgiven me--he welcomes me--his wife will--"

Tears drowned her voice. Toussaint said gently--

"It is not for me to forgive, Therese, whom you have never offended.
God has forgiven, I trust, your young years of sin. You will atone
(will you not?) by the purity of your life--by watching over others,
lest they suffer as you have done. You will guard the minds of my young
daughters: will you not? You will thank God through my Genifrede, my
Aimee?"

"I will, I will," she eagerly cried, lifting up her face, bright through
her tears. "Indeed my heart will be pure--longs to be pure."

"I know it, Therese," said Toussaint. "I have always believed it, and I
now know it."

He turned to Jacques and said--

"You declare yourself to be under my command?"

"Yes, Toussaint; you are my general."

"Well, then, I appoint you to the duty of remaining here, with a troop,
to guard my family (who are coming in a few hours), and this estate. I
have some hopes of doing what I want at Cap without striking a blow; and
you will be better here. You hate the whites too much to like my
warfare. Farewell, Therese! Jacques, follow me, to receive your
troop."

CHAPTER NINE.

THE MAN.

The town of Cap Francais was next morning in a hurry, which attracted
the attention of General Laveaux in his prison, and the French
commissary, Polverel, on board the vessel in the roads, in which he had
take