THE BAMBOULA
one district in England. As a boy I was Catholic, but later was accidentally brought to the true faith."
"How droll! But it would interest you to see a bamboula."
"It is a sinful, pagan orgy … the curse of our nation."
"But do you not think it your duty as the father of your country to be acquainted with its curses in order that you may stamp them out?"
Dessalines hesitated. He had known a clergyman who informed him that he frequently visited the brothels of London for this purpose."
"Of course," pursued madam, "it is impossible that the orgy could interest you more than as a savage spectacle. Listen!"
From deep in the shadow there came a hollow, rhythmic sound; even, monotonous, varying no fraction of time.
Dessalines bristled, twitched, felt his muscles quiver; tremors, cold as ice, ran through each nerve. His heart began to pound furiously; his breath quickened; his mouth grew dry. A wolf reared among dogs might have so quivered at the distant midnight howl of one of his own kind; a tiger, reared on milk, might have so quivered at the scent of warm, fresh blood.
He recovered himself with an effort; he did not notice the agitation of madam.
"When I am in power," he said in a low voice, "I will investigate and abolish such practices."
Presently the drum ceased its beating. Dessalines breathed deeply with relief.
"You are fatigued," said madam presently. "You would like to retire?"
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