o them, as you say, Margot. And if Vincent should
win our Aimee, that will be another security for the lads; for no one
doubts his attachment to France."

"I hope Vincent will win her. But when will you send for the boys?
They have been gone very long. When will you send?"

"As soon as affairs will allow. Do not urge me, Margot. I think of it
day and night."

"Then there is some danger. You would not speak so if there were not.
Oh! my husband! marry Vincent to Aimee! You say that will be a
security."

"We must not forget Aimee herself, my love. If she should hereafter
find her heart torn between her lover and her parents--if the hour
should come for every one here to choose between Bonaparte and me, and
Vincent should still adore the First of the Whites, what will become of
the child of the First of the Blacks? Ought not her parents to have
foreseen such a struggle?"

"Alas! what is to become of us all, Toussaint?"

"Perhaps Genifrede is the happiest of our children, Margot. She looks
anxious to-day; but in a few more days, I hope even her trembling heart
will be at rest."

"It never will," said. Margot, mournfully. "I think there is some evil
influence upon our poor child, to afflict her with perpetual fear. She
still fears ghosts, rather than fear nothing. She enjoys nothing,
except when Moyse is by her side."

"Well, Moyse will presently be by her side; and for life.--I was proud
of him, Margot, last week, at Cap. I know his military talents, from
the day when we used to call the boy General Moyse. I saw by his eye,
when I announced him as General Moyse in Cap, that he remembered those
old days on the north shore. Oh, yes, I was aware of his talents in
that direction, from his boyhood; but I found in him power of another
kind. You know what a passionate lover he is."

"Yes, indeed. Never did I see such a lover!"

"Well, he puts this same power and devotedness into his occupation of
the hour, whatever it may be."

"Do you mean that he forgets Genifrede, when he is away from her?"

"I rather hope that it is the remembrance of her that animates him in
his work. I'm sure that it is so; for I said a few words to him about
home, which made him very happy. If I were to see him failing, as we
once feared he would--if I saw him yielding to his passions--to the
prejudices and passions of the negro and the slave, my reproof would be,
`You forget Genifrede.' Moyse has yet much to learn--and m