n refuge from the mulattoes, and where he held himself in readiness
to set sail for France, in case of any grave disaster befalling the
General or the troops. From his cell, Laveaux heard in the streets the
tramp of horses and of human feet; and from the deck of the _Orphee_,
Polverel watched through his glass the bustle on the wharves, and the
putting off of more than one boat, which prepared him to receive news.

The news came. The report was universal in the town that Toussaint
Breda had gone over from the allies to the side of republican France;
and that this step had been followed by a large defection from the
allied forces. Messengers had arrived, one after another, with
dispatches which had been intercepted by the mulattoes. These who
brought them, however, had given out that some posts had been
surrendered, without a summons, into the hands of the French. This was
certainly the case with Marmalade and Plaisance; and others were
confidently spoken of.

"Offered to our hands just when our hands are tied, and we cannot take
them!" said Polverel. "If our fresh regiments would only arrive to-day,
and help us to wrench the prison keys from the hands of those devils of
mulattoes, and let out Laveaux, the colony would be ours before night."

As he spoke, he swept the horizon to the north and east with his glass;
but no welcome sail was visible.

"Now look the other way," said the commander of the vessel; "if there is
no help at sea, try if there be none on land. I have been watching that
mountain-side for some time; and, if I am not much mistaken, there is an
army of dusky fellows there."

"Dusky! mulattoes! then we are lost!" cried Polverel. "If the mulattoes
from the south have come up in any numbers--"

"They are black as the night that is just gone," said the commander,
still keeping his eye fixed on the western heights above the town.
"See, the sun strikes them now. They are blacks. The negroes under
Toussaint himself, very probably. I shall not have the pleasure of
carrying you to France just yet, Monsieur Polverel."

Notwithstanding the display of black forces on the Haut-du-Cap, the
bustle of the town seemed to be in the opposite direction. A few shots
were fired in the south-east quarter, and some smoke arose from thence.
This was soon explained by the news that Henri Christophe had approached
the town from the plain, with four or five thousand men, and was forcing
an entrance that way. Ther