hen? is he dead?"
"He dies at sunrise. You think Genifrede may sleep till noon?"
Therese could not reply, and he proceeded--
"He is found guilty, and sentenced. There was no escape. His guilt is
clear as noonday."
"No escape from the sentence," said Therese, eagerly. "But there is
room for mercy yet. You hold the power of life and death over all the
colony--a power like that of God, and put into your hand by Him."
"A power put into my hand by Him, and therefore to be justly used.
Moyse's crime is great, and mercy to him would be a crime in me. I have
fault enough already to answer for in this business, and I dare not sin
yet further."
"You yourself have sinned?" said Therese, with a gleam of hope in her
countenance and tone.
"Yes. I ought to have discerned the weakness of this young man. I
ought to have detected the passions that were working in him. I was
misled by one great and prolonged effort of self-control in him. I
appointed an unworthy officer to the care of the lives and safety of the
whites. Many of them have gone to lay their deaths to my charge in
heaven. All I can now do is, by one more death (would to God it were my
own!) to save and to reassure those who are left. It is my retribution
that Moyse must die. As for Paul, as for Genifrede--the sin of the
brother is visited upon the brother--the sin of the father upon the
child."
"But," said Therese, "you speak as if you had caused the innocent to be
destroyed. Some few harmless ones may have died; but the greater
number--those who were sought by the sword's point--were factious
tyrants--enemies of your Government, and of your race--men who rashly
brought their deaths upon themselves. They were passionate--they were
stubborn--they were cruel."
"True--and therefore were they peculiarly under my charge. I have
guaranteed the safety of the whites; and none need my protection so much
as those who do not, by justice, obedience, and gentleness, by gaining
the good-will of their neighbours, protect themselves."
"But Moyse did not murder any. He was not even present at any death."
"It has just been proved that, while he knew that slaughter was going
on, he took no measures to stop it. The ground of his guilt is plain
and clear. The law of the revolution of Saint Domingo, as conducted by
me, is No retaliation. Every breach of this law by an officer of mine
is treason; and every traitor to the whites must die."
"Alas! why
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