escort when a young mulatto of about fifteen, after having followed for
some time, hiding in the ravines or the swamps, on seeing the troop take
the road to Devil's Cliff, started with all haste for Macouba.

Thanks to his perfect knowledge of the country and of certain roads not
open, this slave reached Father Griffen's parish very soon. It was about
four o'clock in the afternoon; the good priest was taking his afternoon
nap, comfortably extended in one of the hammocks so ingeniously made of
rushes by the Caribbeans. The young mulatto had the greatest difficulty
in persuading one of the priest's two slaves to awaken his master;
finally Monsieur concluded, after long hesitation, because of the deep
and peaceful sleep of the priest, to do so.

"What do you want?" said the priest.

"Master, a young mulatto has come in haste from Fort Royal and wishes to
speak to you at once."

"A mulatto from Fort Royal," said Father Griffen, springing from his
hammock. "Let him come in quickly. What do you want, my child?"
continued he, addressing the young slave; "have you come by direction of
Monsieur Morris?"

"Yes, Father. Here is a letter from him. He told me to follow an escort
of troops leaving Fort Royal this morning, and directed me, if they took
the road to Devil's Cliff, to come and tell you, Father. His letter will
explain the rest."

"Very well, my child, the troop----"

"Plunged into the Goyaviers valley, and took the road to the Black
Rocks; that leads only to Devil's Cliff."

Father Griffen, much disturbed, broke the seal of the letter and seemed
overcome at its contents. He re-read it with evidence of the greatest
surprise, and then said to the mulatto, "Go quickly and find Monsieur."

The mulatto went at once.

"An envoy from France has arrived; he had a long interview with the
governor, and I fear he has started with armed men for Devil's Cliff, as
Monsieur Morris believes," said the priest, walking up and down
agitatedly. "Monsieur Morris does not know, cannot know more. But
I--I--I tremble to think of the consequences of this visit. Doubtless
the mystery has been unveiled. And how, how? Who can have put them on
the scent? Did not the secret die with De Crussol? His letter is my
guarantee. Did they not quiet the governor and cause him to give up all
pursuit of this unhappy woman?" Then, referring to Monsieur Morris'
letter, the priest continued: "'A French frigate which remains at anchor
outside the road