JULES, "THE RAVEN"
son!" Dessalines, though not cruel, was as merciless as an animal. He slipped a strap from his portmanteau, then looked curiously at his catch.
He saw a meager little individual of perhaps thirty years. At the moment the creature was standing where the Haytian had hurled him, his birdlike head cocked to one side, his black, beady eyes fixed upon his captor with a regard less frightened than fascinated. The scrutiny puzzled the Haytian; aroused his self-consciousness; put him ill at ease.
"Why do you stare at me in that way?" he demanded.
"Because I have never seen a gentleman of the magnificent proportions of monsieur, and it is to admire," replied the little fellow, in a curiously discordant voice.
Dessalines' susceptible, negro vanity was flattered, but he was suspicious.
"And I suppose that is the reason why you have been spying upon me," he observed.
"It is true, monsieur," replied the man candidly. "Monsieur possesses for me a fascination. It is not possible that monsieur desires a valet de chambre? I would serve him at a nominal wage, so attractive to me is the personality of monsieur!" He tilted his narrow face with its birdlike profile to the other side, and studied Dessalines with a curious mixture of admiration and impudence. The fact that he showed no sign of fear without doubt saved him a beating.
Dessalines' fancy was keenly tickled; a Parisian valet! The idea was very chic; it would increase his prestige at home and abroad; there was also something in the manner of the creature which stroked his vanity.
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