Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 7, 1928 — page 76: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

66 lamp-oil in Cap Francois that night, and Gefondo sought to account for it. “No doubt that blaze is a fire in the public square,” he said. ‘ And it is quite likely that Henri Christophe is in the town.” They hurried on. Basil still clung to the idea that he might gain an audi- ence with the black emperor. He had out-stripped Gefondo and raced on un- til they reached a road, where their pace slowed to a walk. They passed black women bearing hampers of fruit on their heads, bodies as sinuous as serpents; and laughing, white-toothed black men beside them. The grins changed to scowls at sight of the strangers, and tempered even Basil’s impudent courage. For they saw in the dark faces the hatred of all white men, and to Trelawney there came a memory of his childhood when he listened to tales of horror told of the reign of terror in France when news came that Louis XVI was beheaded and more dreadful, the fate of his queen, Marie Antoinette. White men, Frenchmen, had done such things to their own race. Basil regarded the blacks as men caught in the maelstrom of revolution, irrespon- sible murderers, instruments of fate which seemed to favor the cause of the mob. There was need of caution. They came to the fringes of the town, -huts and small houses hidden deep in flam- ing bougainvillzea and poinciana trees, and here Gefondo led them up a lane dark shadowed by overhanging trees, where pigs scuttled out of their path, and children, naked as black Cupids, played and yelled. Gefondo led them through a gate sunk in a wall and to a door on which he tapped lightly. It opened and a negress stared at them all, then reached for Gefondo’s arm and drew him in- side. He-summoned Butts and Trelawney by a gesture, then closed the door. They stood in a kitchen where fire from an ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. open hearth lighted the walls and clean scrubbed table, and the negress flung her arms about the hunchback, speak- ing in a language which smacked of both French and Spanish, yet which Basil, who knew both tongues, did not understand. ‘She used endearing terms as to a child, and Gefondo bore her embraces, then spoke rapidly, evidently explaining who his companions were. Before the fire were spits turned by a small black boy on which chickens browned slow- ly, their juices dripping into a platter of golden yams and batter cake. Weary to exhaustion, Basil dropped on a bench, and Gefondo assumed again the attitude on board ship, fetch- ing him a calabash in which water, lemon juice, and sugar were mixed to make a refreshing drink. “Here, we are safe and may rest. Chilena shall watch for you while I seek for garments befitting a ‘T're- lawney, young master. But venture not abroad until I return. There’s a bed, if you would rest.” “J want to wash and sleep most of all in the world,” Basil sighed. Ge- fondo explained his need, and the negress led Trelawney to an outroom with a tub. She carried water in buck- ets and filled it, then brought him un- dergarments so fine that Basil fingered them with delight. Bathed and dressed, he stretched on a cot, and the negress pulled curtains of cotton netting about him and closed the window shutters. He slept for some time and awak- ened in darkness. He could hear dis- tant shouting of voices and sound of cheering. By the candle burning in an- other room opening off the one where he lay, he saw fine garments of blue satin, silk hose, and a brave hat with a plume. Dressing quickly he went to the win- dow and threw open the shutters. Light blazed somewhere, for its reflection tinted the darkness. Basil decided to explore the town because he was weary EOMIG OOO KS (E@)