the present occasion. He might now, therefore, have
the pleasure of wishing them a good evening.

Pointing to the two heaps of straw, he begged that his prisoners would
lay down their beds in any part of the cell which pleased them best.
Their food, and all that they wanted, would be brought to the door
regularly. As for the rest, they would wait upon each other. Having
thus exhausted his politeness, he quitted the cell; and lock, bolt, and
bar were fastened upon the captives.

By the faint light, Toussaint then perceived that his companion was
struggling with laughter. When Mars Plaisir perceived by his master's
smile that he had leave to give way, he laughed till the cell rang
again, saying--

"Wait upon each other! His Excellency wait upon me! His Excellency
wait upon anybody!"

"There would be nothing new in that. I have endeavoured to wait upon
others all my life. Rarely does Providence grant the favour to wait
upon so many."

Mars Plaisir did not comprehend this, and therefore continued--

"These whites think that we blacks are created to be serving, serving
always--always serving."

"And they are right. Their mistake is in not seeing that the same is
the case with all other men."

In his incessant habit of serving those about him, Toussaint now
remembered that it would be more kind to poor Mars Plaisir to employ
him, than to speak of things which he could not comprehend. He signed
to him, therefore, to shake down the straw on each side the fireplace.
Mars Plaisir sacrificed some of his own bundle to wipe down the wet
walls; but it was all in vain. During the silence, while his master was
meditating at the window, the melancholy sound of falling water--drip,
drip--plash, plash--was heard all around, within and without the cell.
When he had wiped down the walls, from the door in the corner round to
the door again, the place from which he had set out was as wet as ever,
and his straw was spoiled. He angrily kicked the wet straw into the
fire; the consequence of which was that the cell was filled with smoke,
almost to suffocation.

"Ask for more," said Toussaint.

Mars Plaisir shouted, knocked at the door, and used every endeavour to
make himself heard; but in vain. No one came.

"Take some of mine," said Toussaint. "No one can lie on this floor."

Mars Plaisir shook his head. He proceeded mournfully to spread the
other heap of straw; but a large flake of ice had fallen upon it from
the