r
L'Ouverture that your daughters' income from their estates shall be sent
to them at Paris, if you desire them to stay there; or the estates shall
be sold for their benefit; or, if you will trust them to my care--"

"No, no! Impossible!"

"I am the wife of a general, and second to no woman in the island," said
Therese, calmly. "I have power to protect your daughters; and, in an
hour like this, you cannot doubt my sincerity when I say that I have the
will."

"It cannot be, Therese. I do not doubt you--neither your word nor your
will. But it is impossible, utterly."

"Is there strength, even in the hour of death, to trample on the dark
race? Oh! better far to trample on the prejudices of race! Will you
not do this?"

"You talk absurdly, Therese. Do not trouble me with nonsense now. You
will undertake, you say, that Toussaint shall secure to my daughters the
estates I have left to them by will. That is, in case of the blacks
getting the upper hand. If they are put down, my will secures
everything. Happily, my will is in safe hands. Speak, Therese. You
engage for what I have just said?"

"As far as warranted by my knowledge of L'Ouverture and his intentions,
I do. If, through his death or adversity, this resource should fail,
your daughters shall not suffer while my husband and I have property."

"Your husband! property! It is strange," muttered Papalier. "I believe
you, however, I trust you, Therese; and I thank you, love."

Therese started at that old word--that old name. Recovering herself,
she inquired--

"Have you more to ask of me? Is there any other service I can render
you?"

"No, no. You have done too much for me--too much, considering the new
order of affairs."

"I have something to ask of you. I require an answer to one question."

"You require!"

"I do. By the right of an outraged mother, I require to know who
destroyed my child."

"Say nothing of that, Therese. You should know better than to bring
such subjects before a dying man."

"Such subjects lie before the dead. Better to meet them prepared--
atoned for, in as far as atonement is yet possible. For your own sake,
and by my own right, I require to be told who destroyed my child?"

"I did not, Therese."

"You did not! Is it possible? Yet in this hour you could not deceive
me. I have accused you of the deed, from that hour to this. Is it
possible that I have wronged you?"

"I do not say that I disapproved