fore them towards the door. Monsieur Coasson thrust himself
between the parting friends, and began to count the family, in order to
tell who was missing. It would not do, he observed, to leave any
behind.

"Lose no more time," said the admiral. "Those who may be left behind
are cared for, I promise you. We have a hundred of them safe already."

"A hundred of whom?" asked Toussaint, as he walked.

"Of your friends," replied Admiral Ferrari.

This was too true. A hundred of Toussaint's most attached adherents had
been seized this night. No one of them was ever again heard of in the
island.

At the door of the mansion Denis was brought forward, guarded. His eyes
were flashing fire.

"The country is up!" he cried. "I got good service out of the old bell
before they found me."

"Right, my boy! Thank you!" said his father, cheerfully.

"Give Genifrede to me, father. My mother is ready to sink."

Proudly he supported his sister to the boats, carrying her on so rapidly
as to prevent the need of any soldier speaking to her.

There was an array of boats along the shore of the bay. Distant firing
was heard during the whole time that the prisoners and the troops were
embarking.

"They must be very much afraid of us," observed Denis, looking round, as
soon as he had taken his place beside his sister in the boat. "They
have given us above a hundred guards, I believe."

"They are afraid of us," said Toussaint.

"There is terrible fighting somewhere," murmured the weeping Margot. "I
am afraid Placide is in the midst of it."

"He is in his duty if he be," said Toussaint.

Placide had discharged this kind of duty, however, and now appeared to
fulfil the other--of sharing the captivity of his parents. He leaped
into the boat, breathless, after it had pushed off from the shore.

"In time, thank God!" gasped he.

"He can hardly speak!" exclaimed his mother. "He is wet! He is
wounded--cruelly wounded!"

"Not wounded at all, mother. Whole in heart and skin! I am soaked in
the blood of our enemies. We have fought gloriously--in vain, however,
for to-night. Latortue is shot; and Jasmin. There are few left but
Christophe; but he is fighting like a lion."

"Why did you leave him, my son?" asked Toussaint.

"He desired me to come, again and again, and I fought on. At last I was
cut off from him. I could not give any more help there; and I saw that
my business lay here. They say this frigate is the _