BLACK SHADOWS
ginia, "a fairyland, . . . a dream place . . . in all but the harsh, rough climate." His face saddened. "How it could be done in Hayti! What an elysium it might be were it not for the sloth of my people!"
"You shall teach them," said Virginia.
"It is to be my work; but I could never teach them this," he waved his hand toward the fair prospect. "They would not understand—it is not in the Haytian blood; perhaps it is a matter of climate—where nature does so much, man refuses to do anything. Perhaps it is the very harshness of your climate which leads you English to work so hard to beautify your homes." He paused. "Do you know Hayti?" he asked abruptly, turning to Virginia. "It is a near neighbor; Giles tells me you are American {{..|3}} but no doubt your knowledge of Hayti is even less than mine of the States." His black features were crossed by a fierce gleam. "I have never been but once in the United States and that was but for a day."
"I have not seen my native country since I was a child," replied Virginia, "and I am ashamed to say that I know absolutely nothing of Hayti."
"It is a savage island lying midway between Cuba and Porto Rico; beautiful beyond description, rich beyond belief; favorable to human well-being by virtue of every God-given natural condition, and yet a country which promises no safety to life or property, because it is a negro republic, and the negro has not yet learned to govern himself or others."
The rich voice ceased. Virginia, glancing at Dessalines' face, was strangely moved; such words from such a source were startling; more so was the calm certainty with which they were delivered.
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