. ?” “It will all be attended to,” she cut him short, just as the bastard boy whom we already know came rushing in; whereupon she ordered Toni, who stood before a mirror with her back to the stranger, to take up the basket of provisions in the corner of the room; and mother, daughter, the boy, and the stranger went up to his bedroom.

Here, easing herself slowly into a chair, the old woman told how they’d seen the fires of General Dessalines shimmering all night long on the mountains that blocked the horizon, a verifiable fact indeed, although not a single Negro from his army advancing in a southwestern direction toward Port au Prince had shown his face in the immediate surroundings. She thereby succeeded in sending the stranger into a frenzied panic, which she promptly managed to still with the assurance that, even in the worst-case scenario, if soldiers were quartered in her house, she would do everything possible to ensure his safety. And upon the latter’s imploring reminder that, under these circumstances, his family at least be furnished with provisions, she took the basket from her daughter’s hands, and handing it to the boy, instructed him to go to the clearing at the edge of the seagull pond and bring it to the officer’s family that was camped out there. “The officer himself is safe,” she told him to tell them, “friends of the whites, who, on account of their sympathies, had been made to suffer much at the hands of the blacks, have given him shelter.” In conclusion, she said to assure them that, as soon as the highway was free of the armed Negro bands they expected soon, efforts would be made to bring the family here too and offer them safe haven in this house. “Do you understand?” she asked. Hoisting the basket onto his head, the boy replied that he was very familiar with the seagull pond, where he liked to go fishing with his friends, and that he would do everything he’d been told to help the stranger’s family camping out there for the night. And upon the old woman’s question if he had anything to add, the stranger proceeded to pull a ring from his finger and gave it to the boy, instructing him to pass it to the head of the family, Monsieur Strömli, as a sign that the conveyed message was true. Hereupon the old woman took numerous precautionary measures to assure the stranger’s safety, as she maintained; she ordered Toni to close the shutters, and in order to shed a little light in the darkness, she ignited, not without difficulty, as the flint at first refused to function, a kerosene lamp on the mantelpiece. The stranger took advantage of this moment of chaos to gently sling an arm around Toni and whisper in her ear: “How did you sleep?” And: “Should I not inform your mother of what happened?” But Toni ignored the first question, and pulling herself free of his embrace, whispered back a hasty “No!” in response to the second. “If you love me, don’t say a word!” She did her best to hide the terror that all these deceitful maneuvers stirred up in her; and with the pretext of having to prepare the stranger’s breakfast, she scrambled down to the dining room.

Taking from her mother’s cupboard the note the stranger had written to his family, in which he had, in all innocence, invited them to the house, she decided to follow the boy to their camp; and having resolved, if worst came to worst, and her mother noticed it was missing, to share her lover’s death, she rushed after the boy who had already set off along the highway. For she now no longer saw the young officer, before God, in her heart of hearts, as merely a wanderer to whom she had given shelter, but as her betrothed husband-to-be, and she was determined, once his kinfolk had entered the house in full force, to openly declare this to her mother without worrying about her stupefied reaction. “Nanky,” she gasped, out of breath, having run after and finally caught up with the boy on the highway, “mother changed her plan concerning the family of Monsieur Strömli. Take this letter! It is addressed to Monsieur Strömli himself, the old head of the family, and contains an invitation for them all to come spend a few days at our place. Use your head and do everything in your power to bring it off without a hitch; Congo Hoango will reward you upon his return!” “Good, good, Miss Toni!” the boy replied. And carefully folding and stashing the letter in his pocket, he asked: “And am I to serve them as a guide on the walk back?” “Definitely,” said Toni, “since they don’t know the way. But to avoid running into any troops that might be patrolling the highway you’ll have to hold off your return until after midnight, but then make sure to walk quickly so as to get them here before the break of day. Can I count on you, Nanky?” she asked. “You can count on Nanky!” the boy replied. “I know why you’re luring these white fugitives to the plantation, and Hoango will be well pleased!”

Hereupon Toni rushed back to the house and brought the stranger his breakfast; and after bringing back the dirty dishes, the daughter rejoined her mother in the front dining room to attend to household chores. A little while later, without fail, the mother went to the cupboard and, of course, found the message missing. Doubting her memory, she put her hand to her head and asked Toni: “Where in Heaven’s name could I have put the letter the stranger gave me?” After a moment’s silence, during which she looked down at the floor, Toni replied: “As I recall, the stranger took it back and tore it up in our presence in his room!” The mother gave the girl a puzzled look: “I’m quite sure I remember him handing me the letter and my putting it in that cupboard for safekeeping!” But after rummaging through all the shelves and still not finding it, not trusting her memory, on account of several such apparent lapses, she finally had no other recourse but to believe her daughter’s recollection. In the meantime, busying herself with other tasks, she could not hide her considerable vexation, muttering that the letter would have been of the greatest importance to the Negro Hoango, as it would have enabled them to lure the entire family to the plantation. At lunch and again at suppertime, as Toni served the stranger his meal, Babekan, who kept him company at table, took advantage of the opportunity to ask after the letter; but as soon as the talk turned to this dangerous issue, Toni managed skillfully to deflect or muddle the conversation, such that the mother was unable to make hide or hair of the stranger’s explanation concerning the letter. And so the day went by; after the evening meal, Babekan locked the stranger’s door, for his safety, she assured him; and after hashing out with Toni by what ruse she might lay her hands on such a letter the next day, she retired for the night and likewise told her daughter to go to bed.

But as soon as Toni got to her room and assured herself that her mother was sound asleep, having longed for this moment, she took the painting of the Holy Virgin from where it hung on the wall beside her bed, set it on a chair, and knelt down before it with folded hands. In a fervent prayer, she implored, her godly Son, the Savior, to grant her the courage and perseverance to confess to the young man, her betrothed, all the crimes that burdened her young bosom. She swore not even to hide from him, however painful it might be to reveal, her merciless and terrible intent when she lured him into the house the previous day; but for the sake of the things she’d done since then to save him, she begged him to forgive her and to take her with him to Europe as his faithful wife. Feeling wonderfully fortified by this prayer, she rose, and reaching for the pass key to every room in the house, slowly made her way in the dark down the narrow corridor that ran through the middle of the house, feeling her way toward the stranger’s room. Quietly she unlocked the door and walked over to his bed, where he lay fast asleep. The moon lit up his radiant face, and the night wind that wafted through the open window played with the hair on his forehead.