open eye, may teach as much as a prejudiced mind can learn in all Rome."

"So Loisir is of those who flatter men in power?" said Vincent,
laughing.

"I look further," said Loisir; "I am working for men unborn. I am
ambitious; but my ambition is to connect my name honourably with the
first great house built for a negro general. My ambition is to build
here a rival to the palaces of Europe."

"Do what you will, you will not rival your own tales of them--unless you
find Aladdin's lamp among these ruins."

"If you find it, you may bring it me. Azna has found something half as
good--a really fine statue in the grass."

Vincent was off to see it. He found the drawing party more eager in
conversation than about their work. Aimee was saying as he approached--

"General Vincent declares that he is as affectionate to us as if we were
the nearest to him of all the children of the empire.--Did you not say
so?" she asked, eagerly. "Is not the First Consul's friendship for us
real and earnest? Does he not feel a warm regard for my father? Is he
not like a father to my brothers?"

"Certainly," said Vincent. "Do not your brothers confirm this in their
letters?"

"Do they not, Genifrede?" repeated Aimee.

"They do; but we see that they speak as they think: not as things really
are."

"How can you so despise the testimony of those who see what we only hear
of?"

"I do not despise them or their testimony. I honour their hearts, which
forget injuries, and open to kindness. But they are young; they went
from keeping cattle, and from witnessing the desolations of war here, to
the first city of the world, where the first men lavish upon them
instructions, and pleasures, and flatteries; and they are pleased. The
greatest of all--the First of the Whites, smiles upon the sons of the
First of the Blacks; and their hearts beat with enthusiasm for him. It
is natural. But, while they are in Paris, we are in Saint Domingo; and
we may easily view affairs, and judge men differently."

"And so," said Aimee, "distrust our best friends, and despise our best
instructors; and all from a jealousy of race!"

"We think the jealousy of race is with them," said Moyse, bitterly.
"There is not a measure of L'Ouverture's which they do not neutralise--
not a fragment of authority which they will yield. As to friends, if
the Consul Bonaparte is our best friend among the Whites, may we be left
thus far friendless!"

"You mean that he