s impossible," said Bellair. "Without previous knowledge, one
could not tell them from droves of bullocks and goats going to market at
Saint Marc."

"Except for their caps," said Euphrosyne. "I see a dozen or two of
feathers through the crowd. Do not you, Afra?"

"Yes, but where is their music? We should hear something of it here,
surely."

"Yes, it is a dumb march," said Dessalines, "at present. They will
strike up when they have turned the shoulder of that hill, no doubt.
There! now listen!"

All listened, so that the brook, half a mile behind, made its babbling
heard, but there was not a breath of music.

"Is it possible that Rochambeau should be in the way," asked Therese.

"He cannot be in the way," said her husband, "for where I stand, I
command every foot of the road, up to our posts; but he may be nearer
than we thought. I conclude that he is."

"Look! See!" cried several. "They are taking another road. Where are
they going! General Dessalines, what does it mean?"

"I would thank anyone to tell me that it is not as I fear," replied
Dessalines. "I fear Maurepas is effecting a junction, not with us, but
with some one else."

"With Rochambeau!"

"Traitor!"

"The traitor Maurepas!"

"His head!"

"Our all for his head!" cried the enraged gazers, as they saw Maurepas
indeed diverging from the road to the post, and a large body of French
troops turning a reach of the same road, from behind a hill. The two
clouds of dust met. And now there was no more silence, but sound enough
from below and afar. There was evidently clamour and rage among the
troops in the Plateaux; and bursts of music from the army of their foes,
triumphant and insulting, swelled the breeze.

"Our all for the head of Maurepas!" cried the group again.

"Nay," said Vincent, "leave Maurepas his head. Who knows but that peace
may come out of it? If all had done as he has now done, there could be
no war."

"In the same way," exclaimed Pascal, "as if all of your colour thought
as you do, there would then be no war, because there would be no men to
fight; but only slaves to walk quietly under the yoke."

"Be as angry as you will," said Vincent, in a low voice to Pascal. "No
one's anger can alter the truth. It is impious and vain, here as
elsewhere, to oppose Bonaparte. L'Ouverture will have to yield; you
know that as well as I do, Monsieur Pascal; and those are the best
friends of the blacks who help to render war im