ew plantations: that is all. We shall
soon--"

"The negroes!" echoed the voice. "You are sure it is only the negroes?"

"Only the negroes, madame. Can I be of service to you? If you have any
reason to fear that your force--"

"I have no reason to fear anything. I will not detain you. No doubt
you are wanted at home, Monsieur Bayou."

And she re-entered her house, and closed the doors.

"How you have disappointed her!" said Papalier. "She hoped to hear that
her race had risen, and were avenging her sons on us. I am thankful
to-night," he continued, after a pause, "that my little girls are at
Paris. How glad might that poor woman have been, if her sons had stayed
there! Strange enough, Paris is called the very centre of disorder, and
yet it seems the only place for our sons and daughters in these days."

"And strangely enough," said Bayou, "I am glad that I have neither wife,
son, nor daughter. I felt that, even while Odeluc, was holding forth
about the age of security which we were now entering upon--I felt at the
moment that there must be something wrong; that all could not be right,
when a man feels glad that he has only himself to take care of. Our
negroes are better off than we, so far. Hey, Toussaint?"

"I think so, sir."

"How many wives and children have you, Toussaint?" asked Papalier.

"I have five children, sir."

"And how many wives in your time?"

Toussaint made no answer. Bayou said for him--

"He has such a good wife that he never wanted more. He married her when
he was five-and-twenty--did not you, Toussaint?"

Toussaint had dropped into the rear. His master observed that Toussaint
was rather romantic, and did not like jesting on domestic affairs. He
was more prudish about such matters than whites fresh from the
mother-country. Whether he had got it out of his books, or whether it
really was a romantic attachment to his wife, there was no knowing; but
he was quite unlike his race generally in family matters.

"Does he take upon himself to be scandalised at us?" asked Papalier.

"I do not ask him. But if you like to consult him about your Therese, I
do not doubt he will tell you his mind."

"Come, cannot we go on faster? This is a horrid road, to be sure; but
poor Therese will think it is all over with me, if she looks at the red
sky towards Cap."

There were reasons enough for alarm about Monsieur Papalier's safety,
without looking over towards Cap. When the gentlem