uld be
concentrated, the cultivators raised and collected, stores provided in
the fastnesses, and the new acquisitions of the enemy rendered useless
to them. Never had the heads of these two able men, working in perfect
concert, achieved such a mass of work in a single night.

A little after sunrise, the French party appeared in the salon, where
already almost every member of the household was collected; all being
under the impression that a crisis had arrived, and that memorable words
were about to be spoken.

Toussaint acknowledged the apparent discourtesy of appointing the hour
for the departure of his guests; but declared that he had no apology to
offer:--that the time for courteous observance was past, when his guests
were discovered to be sent merely to amuse and disarm him for the hour,
while blows were struck at a distance against the liberties of his race.
In delivering his despatches, he said, he was delivering his farewell.
Within an hour, the deputation and himself must be travelling in
different directions.

Monsieur Coasson, on receiving the packets, said that he had no other
desire than to be on his way. There could be no satisfaction, and
little safety, in remaining in a house where, under a hypocritical
pretence of magnanimity and good-will, there lurked a spirit of hideous
malice, of diabolical revenge, towards a race to whom nature, and the
universal consent of men, had given a superiority which they could never
lose.

In unaffected surprise, Toussaint looked in the face of the envoy,
observing that, for himself, he disclaimed all such passion and such
dissimulation as his household was charged with.

"Of course you do," replied Coasson: "but I require not your testimony.
The men of a family may, where there is occasion, conceal its ruling
passion: but, where there is occasion, it will be revealed by the
women."

Toussaint's eyes, like every one's else, turned to the ladies of his
family. It was not Madame L'Ouverture that was intended, for her
countenance asked of her husband what this could mean. It could not be
Aimee, who now stood drowned in tears, where she could best conceal her
grief. Genifrede explained. She told calmly, and without the slightest
confusion, that Monsieur Coasson had sought a conversation with her, for
the purpose of winning over her feelings, and her influence with her
father, to the side of the French. He had endeavoured to make her
acknowledge that the whole f