themselves
alive through the dark years which followed the horrors of the black
uprising and the overthrow of the French rule. The courage of that lady
of France must have been very great. But she was near to the end of her
strength when she met Roderick Ralestone.

"Against the direct orders of the black despots in the land, young
Ralestone got de Roche and his daughter away on his ship. Her maid chose
to remain among her people. Ralestone hints that she was a sort of
priestess of Voodoo and that it had been her dark powers which had
protected the lives of those she loved.

"Ralestone took the refugees to Curacao, but de Roche did not survive.
He lived only long enough to see his daughter married to her rescuer and
to persuade his son-in-law to legally adopt the name of St. Jean de
Roche, that an old and honored family might not be forgotten. The
Comte's only son had been killed by the blacks.

"So it was as Roderick St. Jean--he dropped the 'de Roche' in time--that
he returned here in 1830. His wife was dead, worn out while yet in her
youth by the horrors of her girlhood. But Roderick brought with him a
ten-year-old boy who had the right to both the name of Ralestone and
that of de Roche.

"Roderick himself was greatly changed. Years of free-trading, both in
the Gulf and in the South Seas, had made him wholly sailor. A cutlass
cut disfigured his face and altered the line of his mouth. Anyone who
had known Roderick Ralestone would have little interest in Captain St.
Jean, the merchant adventurer. He discusses this point at some length in
his log, always concealing his real name.

"For the space of a year or two he was content to live quietly. He even
opened a small shop and dealt in luxuries from the south. Then the
desire to wander, which must have been the key-note of his life, drove
him out into the world again. He placed his son in the care of a certain
priest, whom he trusted, and went south to become one of the visionary
revolutionists who were fighting their way back and across South and
Central America. In one bloody engagement he fell, as his son notes in
the old logs which he was now using to record his own daily
experiences."

"Ricky said," Val mused, "that Roderick Ralestone never died in his bed.
What became of the son?"

"Father Justinian wanted him to enter the Church, but in spite of his
strict training he had no vocation. The money his father had left with
the priest was enough to establish h