mising to present
himself at Pongaudin on the tenth of June.

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

A FEAT.

General Brunet brought with him no more than his allotted twenty
soldiers, and a secretary. Christophe ascertained to his own
satisfaction, and let the household know, that not another French
soldier breathed within a circuit of some miles, when the evening closed
in; so that the ladies threw off constraint and fear together as the two
generals, with their secretaries, retired to the library, after coffee.

Placide had been with Christophe all day, and was the means by which the
household had been assured of the tranquillity of the neighbourhood. He
was of the patrol which was to watch the roads during the night. It
seemed improbable, however, that, of all nights, that should be chosen
for an assault when the Ouvertures must be particularly roused to
observation, and when a French general was in their hands. Of all
nights, this was probably the safest; yet Placide, glad, perhaps, of an
excuse to keep out of the way of a guest from Paris, chose to mount
guard with Christophe.

Denis was permitted to be in the library, as the business was not
private, and, to one who knew the country as well as he did, very
entertaining. For a time he found it so, while all the five were
stooping over the maps, and his father was explaining the nature of the
localities, and the interests of the inhabitants, and while words
dropped from General Brunet which gave an insight into that object of
Denis's strong curiosity--the French encampment on Tortuga. When all of
this kind had been said, and the conversation turned upon points of
military science or management, which he did not care about, Denis drew
off to the window, and thence into the balcony, where he looked out upon
the night--vainly, for it was cloudy, and there was yet no moon. The
air was cool and pleasant, however, and he remained leaning over the
balcony, revolving what he had heard, and picturing to himself the
little court of Madame Leclerc--so near, and yet out of his reach.
While thus absorbed, it is probable that some distant voice of song
instigated him to sing also. Like his race generally, Denis was almost
always singing; always when alone and meditative. It is probable that
some notes of the air sung by those who looked to August for freedom--
sung by the whole negro population--now caught his ear; for he began,
hardly to sing, but to murmur this popular air.