"Father, I cannot yield to your admonition. Reprove me as you will, I cannot. There is a voice within me stronger than yours."
"I fear so, my son; nor can I doubt what that voice is, nor whence it comes. I will pray for you, that you may have strength to struggle with the tempter."
"Not so, father; rather pray that I may have strength to obey this new voice of duty, alone as I am, discountenanced as I shall be."
"Impossible, my son. I dare not so pray for one self-willed and precipitate; nor, till you bring a humble and obedient mind, can I receive your confession. There can be no absolution where there is reservation. Consider, my dear son! I only desire you to pause."
"Delay is treachery," said Toussaint. "This day the decree and proclamation will be made known through the forces; and if I remain, this night"s sun sets on my condemnation. I shall not dare to pray, clothed in my rank, this night."
"Go now, my son. You see it is dawning. You have lost the present opportunity; and you must now leave me to my duties. When you can return hither to yours, you will be welcome."
Toussaint paid him his wonted reverence, and left the tent.
Arrived in his own, he threw himself on the couch like a heart-broken man.
"No help! no guidance!" thought he. "I am desolate and alone. I never thought to have been left without a guide from G.o.d. He leaves me with my sins upon my soul, unconfessed, unabsolved; and, thus burdened and rebuked, I must enter upon the course which I dare not refuse. But this voice within me which bids me go--whence and what is it? Whence is it but from G.o.d? And how can I therefore say that I am alone? There is no man that I can rely on--not even one of Christ"s anointed priests; but is there not He who redeemed men? and will He reject me if, in my obedience, I come to Him? I will try--I will dare. I am alone; and He will hear and help me."
Without priest, without voice, without form of words, he confessed and prayed, and no longer felt that he was alone. He arose, clear in mind and strong in heart: wrote and sealed up his resignation of his commission, stepped into the next tent to rouse the three boys, desiring them to dress for early ma.s.s, and prepare for their return to their homes immediately afterwards. He then entered his own inner apartment, where Papalier was sleeping so soundly that it was probable the early movements of saint"s-day festivities in the camp would not awaken him.
As he could not show himself abroad till the General"s protection was secured, his host let him sleep on; opening and shutting his clothes"
chest, and going through the whole preparation for appearance on the parade in full uniform, without disturbing his wearied guest, who hardly moved even at the roll of the drum, and the stir of morning in the camp.
CHAPTER SEVEN.
THE ACT.
Papalier was probably the only person in the valley who did not attend ma.s.s on this saint"s-day morning. The Spanish general was early seen, surrounded by his staff, moving towards the rising ground, outside the camp, on which stood the church, erected for the use of the troops when the encampment was formed. The soldiers, both Spanish and negro, had some time before filed out of their tents, and been formed for their short march; and they now came up in order, the whites approaching on the right, and the blacks on the left, till their forces joined before the church. The sun had not yet shone down into the valley, and the dew lay on the gra.s.s, and dropped like rain from the broad eaves of the church-roof--from the points of the palm-leaves with which it was thatched.
This church was little more than a covered enclosure. It was well shaded from the heat of the sun by its broad and low roof; but, between the corner posts, the sides could hardly be said to be filled in by the bamboos which stood like slender columns at intervals of several inches, so that all that pa.s.sed within could be seen from without, except that the vestry and the part behind the altar had their walls interwoven with withes, so as to be impervious to the eye. The ground was strewn thick with moss,--cushioned throughout for the knees of the worshippers. The seats were rude wooden benches, except the chair, covered with damask, which was reserved for the Marquis d"Hermona.
Here the General took his place, his staff ranging themselves on the benches behind. Jean Francais entered after him, and seated himself on the opposite range of benches. Next followed Toussaint Breda, alone, having left his sons outside with the soldiers. Some few more advanced towards the altar; it being understood that those who did so wished to communicate. An interval of a few empty benches was then left, and the lower end of the church was thronged by such of the soldiery as could find room; the rest closing in round the building, so as to hear the voice of the priest, and join in the service.
There was a gay air about the a.s.semblage, scarcely subdued by the place, and the occasion which brought them to it. Almost every man carried a stem of the white amaryllis, plucked from among the high gra.s.s, with which it grew thickly intermixed all over the valley; and beautiful to the eye were the snowy, drooping blossoms, contrasted with the rich dark green of their leaves. Some few brought twigs of the orange and the lime; and the sweet odour of the blossoms pervaded the place like a holy incense, as the first stirring airs of morning breathed around and through the building. There were smiles on almost every face; and a hum of low but joyous greetings was heard without, till the loud voice of the priest, reciting the Creed, hushed every other. The only countenance of great seriousness present was that of Toussaint, and his bore an expression of solemnity, if not of melancholy, which struck every one who looked upon him--and he always was looked upon by every one. His personal qualities had strongly attracted the attention of the Spanish general. Jean Francais watched his every movement with the mingled triumph and jealousy of a superior in rank, but a rival in fame; and by the negro troops he was so beloved, that nothing but the strict discipline which he enforced could have prevented their following him in crowds wherever he went. Whenever he smiled, as he pa.s.sed along, in conversation, they laughed without inquiring why; and now, this morning, on observing the gravity of his countenance, they glanced from one to another, as if to inquire the cause.
The priest, having communicated, at length descended from before the altar, to administer the water to such as desired to receive it. Among these, Toussaint bent his head lowest--so low, that the first slanting sunbeam that entered beneath the thatch seemed to rest upon his head, while every other head remained in the shadow of the roof. In after days, the negroes then present recalled this appearance. Jean Francais, observing that General Hermona was making some remark about Toussaint to the officers about him, endeavoured to a.s.sume an expression of deep devotion also; but in vain. No one thought of saying of him what the General was at that moment saying of his brother in arms--"G.o.d could not visit a soul more pure."
When the blessing had been given, and the few concluding verses of Scripture read, the General was the first to leave his place. It seemed as if he and Toussaint moved towards one another by the same impulse, for they met in the aisle between the benches.
"I have a few words of business to speak with you, General--a work of justice to ask you to perform without delay," said Toussaint.
"Good!" said the General. "In justice there should be no delay. I will therefore breakfast with you in your tent. Shall we proceed?"
He put his arm within that of Toussaint, who, however, gently withdrew his, and stepped back with a profound bow of respect. General Hermona looked as if he scarcely knew whether to take this as an act of humility, or to be offended; but he smiled on Toussaint"s saying--
"It is not without reasons that I decline honour in this place this morning--reasons which I will explain. Shall I conduct you to my tent?
And these gentlemen of your staff?"
"As we have business, my friend, I will come alone. I shall be sorry if there is any quarrel between us, Toussaint. If you have to ask justice of me, I declare to you I know not the cause."
"It is not for myself, General, that I ask justice. I have ever received from you more than justice."
"You have attached your men to yourself with singular skill," said the General, on their way down the slope from the church, as he closely observed the countenances of the black soldiers, which brightened, as if touched by the sunlight, on the approach of their commander. "Their attachment to you is singular. I no longer wonder at your achievements in the field."
"It is by no skill of mine," replied Toussaint; "it is by the power of past tyranny. The hearts of negroes are made to love. Hitherto, all love in which the mind could share has been bestowed upon those who degraded and despised them. In me they see one whom, while obeying, they may love as a brother."
"The same might be said of Jean Francais, as far as your reasons go; but Jean Francais is not beloved like you. He looks gayer than you, my friend, notwithstanding. He is happy in his new rank, probably. You have heard that he is enn.o.bled by the court of Spain?"
"I had not heard it. It will please him."
"It evidently does. He is made a n.o.ble; and his military rank is now that of lieutenant-General. Your turn will come next, my friend; and if promotion went strictly according to personal merit, no one would have been advanced sooner than you."
"I do not desire promotion, and--"
"Ah! there your stoical philosophy comes in. But I will show you another way of applying it. Rank brings cares; so that one who is not a stoic may have an excuse for shrinking from it; but a stoic despises cares. Ha! we have some young soldiers here," he said, as Moyse and his cousins stood beside the way, to make their obeisance; "and very perfect soldiers they look, young as they are. They seem born for military service."
"They were born slaves, my lord; but they have now the loyal hearts of freemen within them, amidst the ignorance and follies of their youth."
"They are--"
"My nephew and my two sons, my lord."
"And why mounted at this hour?"
"They are going to their homes, by my direction."
"If it were not that you have business with me, which I suppose you desire them not to overhear--"
"It is as you say, General."
"If it had not been so, I would have requested that they might be at our table this morning. As it is, I will not delay their journey."
And the General touched his hat to the lads, with a graciousness which made them bend low their uncovered heads, and report marvels at home of the deportment of the Marquis d"Hermona. Seeing how their father was occupied, they were satisfied with a grasp of his hand as he pa.s.sed, received from him a letter for their mother, and waited only till he and his guest had disappeared within the tent, to gallop off. They wondered at being made the bearers of a letter, as they knew that his horse was ordered to be ready beside his tent immediately after breakfast, and had not a doubt of his arriving at the sh.o.r.e almost as soon as themselves.
Papalier was lounging on the couch beside the table where breakfast was spread, when General Hermona and his host offered. He started up, casting a look of doubt upon Toussaint.
"Fear nothing, Monsieur Papalier," said Toussaint; "General Hermona has engaged to listen to my plea for justice. My lord, Monsieur Papalier was amicably received by your lordship on crossing the frontier, and, on the strength of your welcome, has remained on the island till too late to escape, without your especial protection, a fate he dreads."
"You mean being delivered up as a republican?"
"Into the hands of my own negroes, my lord," said Papalier, bitterly.
"That is the fate secretly designed for any unfortunate planter who may yet have survived the recent troubles over the frontier."
"But how can I protect you? The arrangement is none of mine: I cannot interfere with it."
"Only by forgetting in this single instance the point of time at which we have arrived, and furnishing me with a pa.s.s which shall enable me to sail for Europe, as I acknowledge I ought to have done long ago."
"So this is the act of justice you asked from me, Toussaint. Why did you not say favour? I shall do it with much more pleasure as a slight favour to one whom I strongly regard. You shall have your safe-conduct, Monsieur Papalier. In the meantime--"