Creole_. Whither
bound, I wonder?"

"To Cap Francais," replied the officer in the stern: "to join the
_Heros_, now in the roads there."

"The _Heros_--a seventy-four, I think," said L'Ouverture.

"A seventy-four--you are correct," replied the officer. No one spoke
again.

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

TRUCE NO MORE.

When Toussaint set foot on the deck of the _Heros_, on the evening of
the next day, the commander stood ready to receive him--and not only the
commander. Soldiers also stood ready with chains, with which they lost
no time in fettering the old man's ankles and wrists. While they were
doing this, Toussaint quietly said to the commander--

"By my overthrow, the trunk of the tree of negro liberty is laid low;
only the trunk. It will shoot out again from the roots; and they are
many and deep."

The moment the soldiers stepped back, and allowed access to him, Aimee
was in his arms; and Isaac, in great agitation, presented himself.

"I will never leave you more, father!" said he. "These fetters!
Nothing should have made me believe such treatment possible. I trusted
Leclerc as firmly as I trusted you. I have been living with him while
he meditated chains for you. I am humbled for ever! All I can do now
is to devote myself to you, as Placide did at the right time. Would I
were Placide! I am humbled for ever!"

"No, my son: not for ever. It is a common lot to be humbled for the
credulous confidence of youth. It is a safer and a nobler error, Isaac,
than its opposite. It is better than unbelief in the virtue of man."

"You torture me with your goodness, father!"

"I deal with you as with myself, Isaac. In the young days of my freedom
I trusted falsely, as you have done. I believed in Bonaparte, as you
have believed in Leclerc. We have both received a lesson; but I do not
feel humbled for ever; nor must you."

"Would I were Placide!" was all that Isaac could say.

"You are so good to Isaac and me," said Aimee, timidly, "that perhaps
you would (could you?) see Vincent."

"No, my child. Vincent is not like Isaac. He cannot be made wise by
experience; and his folly is scarcely to be distinguished from
treachery. I cannot see General Vincent."

No choice was allowed, however. Vincent rushed forward, knelt before
Toussaint, and clasped his knees, imploring, in a convulsion of grief,
pardon for the past, and permission to devote every hour of his future
life to the family whom he had ru