THE SAVAGE ISLAND
One caught a glimpse of fluttering garments through slanting jalousies; heard stifled laughter from shadowy recesses.
As they entered the yard a young lad of perhaps fifteen years approached Calisthène. The boy was a shade lighter in hue than his father; a handsome boy, with great, soft eyes and rather delicate, rounded features.
"Ah, petit Justitian!" cried the parent. "Salute the Comte Dessalines who is to be our guest."
The boy saluted Dessalines with respectful graciousness, then turned to his father.
"Dear papa, General Miragoâne received a message which made it necessary for him to return at once to Gonaïves. He set out immediately and left this note for you; also, he requested me to express his regrets for his sudden departure."
The boy's French was Parisian, perfect; the voice soft and musical.
"Hélas!" cried Calisthene, "it is a pity; he has missed meeting his old comrade." Again Dessalines felt the examining eyes upon him. "But never mind; we will be gay. Justitian, my heart, bid the servants fetch lights and if you love me, some fruit. It will be long since Comte Dessalines has tasted a mango."
The boy departed.
"A charming child," said Dessalines.
"Is he not? My youngest, a child by placage; his mother is a Dominican, almost white. Next year I shall send him to Paris for his education. He is very bright and a charming musician. You shall hear him play the flute. And now tell me all about our dear Paris; would you believe it, it is four years since I was last there.
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