Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 14, 1928 — page 77: what you’re looking at

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

HIS SERVICE TO FOLLY. Englishman, and we are not at war with England. Besides, he sings and dances well and amuses me. I grow weary of affairs of state and troubles never ending. I’ll have him dance for you, my Jam-pot. You'll burst your -stays laughing.” His voice was wheedling, but his lady was not to be cajoled readily. Under whips of the drivers the horses plunged and panted on the steep grades and the heavy coach rolled alarmingly. “It is a sign of evil portent when ghosts are seen,” went on the queen. “Tl keep this Frenchwoman with my ladies. You were always willing to try the advice of that fool, De Marmalade, about contenting the submissive whites by giving Haiti a white queen.” “My Honey-hive, my Sugar-cane, I have said she was already wed and to this Englishman I’ve made jester for my throne. But you say that Des- salines and Sans Souci have been seen. They are dead so long ’twould seem they might stay quiet. “And if any man sees ghosts, it should be that rogue De Banana at Plantation Grand Pré. I had no hand in the death of Dessalines—and I re- gret the hasty taking off of Sans Souci. He hated to die, my Bread-and-Butter. And because he loved Grand Pré, he. might come back there from Purga- tory. Dessalines and Sans Souci, you say—and their ghosts walk.” From the strangely awed tone of his mutterings, Basil knew that fear had him by the throat. Christophe was childishly superstitious, and grew more alarmed over the possibility of ghosts walking than the real peril of discon- tent among his conquered enemies on the island and courageous denunciation of the priest at Limonade. On the driver’s seat, swaying with the coach, Basil pieced together bits of a puzzle, the keynote of which was that name of “ Grand Pré.” The chateau of Tourraines near Rouen had that same name. It was also the home of Violette’s kinsmen 215 in Haiti, a plantation ravaged by Chris- tophe, its ower foully murdered and the estates given to De Banana. Another crime in the long score. And already vengeance was in pursuit. The ghosts of conscience troubled Christophe! CHAPTER X, THE DRUMS OF HAITI. S Basil followed the emperor over the paved courtyard of the Cita- del, which crowned like a close- fitting cap the cliffs of Bonnet L’Evéque, the arduous exertions of the long day seemed suddenly to drop a weight of weariness over his mind and body. Excitement and danger had kept him alert, but he was no longer able to feel either fear or caution, nor even amazement at the marvelous engineer- ing which erected this fortress of stone that had been quarried and hatled by man-power up the terrible and steep hill roads. The huge gates clanged shut after the carriages. Great doors of the in- ner walls swung open. Torches, car- ried by black retainers clad in bright colors, made a path of smoky flickering light. Inside the passageway, Basil felt the chill of its stone walls which glistened with moisture and were green-veined with fungus growth between the hewn blocks of masonry. Then as they threaded a winding trail which led to the stairs, he gained some idea of the wall thickness. The whole fortress had the aspect of a pris- on. It was built in a long triangle, and they went toward the apex which point- ed north. Here was a great hall, well lighted, with fires blazing in open hearths, and a long table spread with heavy damask. Lights shone on silver and crystal. There was the ruby gleam of Bohe- mian glassware, and the rare blue of SS Gomichboo (E@)