THE SAVAGE ISLAND
a golden green; peaks, uplifting gray, heavy masses of rain-cloud, loomed beyond. The Haytian proverb flashed across his mind: "Derrière mornes, gagner mornes,"—behind mountains there are mountains. The darkening valley swept away toward the sea, where it widened, became brighter, lost the sinister shadows of a chasm, and became flecked instead with bright tiled roofs. Beyond lay the sea; farther still, an azure cloud, the island of Gonâves was poised at the junction of sea and sky.
It was almost dark when he drew rein before the villa of Dr. Fouchère. It was a picturesque spot, pitched on the brink of a slope so steep as to be almost a precipice. Beneath, the valley of darkest green stretched away to the sea. Beyond, lay the city of Port au Prince, at this range a beauty spot; at close range, a foul ulcer teeming with a life of poisonous corruption. On the other hand one caught a vista of the lakes, far beneath, shimmering azure, dazzling with the reflected brilliance of the late sun. Above, rose the mountain.
As Dessalines drew in his tired but still willing horse, Jules hurried from the rear where he had been bandying blague with a handsome negress, the maid of Madam Fouchère, an old friend of the little Frenchman.
"Madam has been resting," he said. "She has left orders to be called upon the arrival of Monsieur le Comte."
"Then I will dare to countermand the order," replied Dessalines. "Do not permit her to be disturbed. And the doctor?"
"He is in Port au Prince. He is expected home this evening. We thought it probable that you would meet."
223
