at their door, after standing to hear them fasten it
inside.

The girls kept awake as long as they could, calling each other's
attention to every fancied noise. They could be sure of nothing,
however, but of the march of the sentinel along the corridor. They both
slept at last, and were wakened in broad daylight by the gouvernante,
who entered in great trepidation, to say that there had been a plot
against the Commander-in-chief;--that the window of his chamber had been
entered at two o'clock by a party of mulattoes, who had all been seized
by L'Ouverture's soldiers. How it came to end so--how soldiers enough
happened to be at hand at the right moment--how it was all done without
fighting, without noise enough even to break her rest (and she always
know if anybody stirred)--the gouvernante could not tell. All she knew
was, that L'Ouverture was the most considerate creature in the world.
As soon as the eleven mulattoes who had been taken were put into
confinement, L'Ouverture had sent one of his own guards into her
corridor to prevent her being alarmed for herself and her young charge.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

THE GIFT AT THE ALTAR.

Poor Euphrosyne! She was not allowed by her grandfather to go to church
this day. Monsieur Revel insisted upon it that it would be an act of
treason for one of the French race to attend a thanksgiving for having
got rid of the French authorities. In vain did Euphrosyne represent
that the thanksgiving was for something very different--for the
deliverance of the town and district from war--for the security of white
and black inhabitants alike.--Neither Monsieur Revel nor Pierre would
hear a word of this. They were quite sure that the faster the dark
people thronged to the churches to rejoice, the more fervently should
the whites mourn and pray for mercy at home. Her grandfather said
Pierre should escort her to the chapel of the convent, where she might
go without being seen. That service was a fitting one for her to
attend; and he would spare her for a couple of hours, to be so spent,
under the eye of the abbess. This, however, Euphrosyne declined. She
preferred remaining to see from behind the blind what went on in the
Jesuits' Walk--to see Afra and her gouvernante dressed for church--to
see L'Ouverture set forth--to see the soldiers follow, marching in a
compact body, each man carrying a green bough, in token of rejoicing.
She did not know, any more than the crowd that lined