Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 14, 1928 — page 89: what you’re looking at

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

HIS SERVICER TO FOLLY. ing vociferous rantings which in the excitement of the hunchback were of- ten French phrases that Basil could in- terpret. “Christophe has betrayed you. Christophe takes a white queen. Chris- tophe plays a traitor’s part. He grows fat and weak of will, and fond of his wine and women. It is time, oh, brothers, another king ruled in the Cit- adel. “To-night, Christophe lifts the white-faced French woman to his throne and puts away his Bread-and- Butter. ~“ Here, in the fire burns the man of Haiti whom Christophe killed. Here burns our brother in blood. Vengeance calls from the fire. Blood cries from the ground. Shall it cry and call in vain?” A shout answered him. “Bring jungle wine, my brothers. Pour wine and blood as Christophe has poured them. Spit on his image as he would spit on his vows. The blood of our brother wails through the forest. The emperor has taken his enemies in- to the Citadel. A French queen will rule Haiti, and the black man shall wear chains if we forget the blood spilled when our brother died last night.” Half of the dancers darted into the gloom beyond, and returned carrying gourds. Basil saw the beginning of an orgy whose horrors he could not imag- ine, for above the din he heard screams in a human voice, wild shouting, and then a cessation of the terror-stricken cry. He fought the thought which came unbidden. He was helpless to prevent what happened at that fire in the woods where Voodoo lifted its scaled and hideously fanged head. He caught Violette in his arms and retraced his way on the path to where it branched off. ‘There was no danger of their being seen by the absorbed de- votees of that dread rite, but he faced the fact that he was lost in the Haitian jungle at night, with Violette depend- 227 ent on him. He said no word to her, but forged on and on, and she surprised him by her endurance. : Insects droned -and clacked and hummed. ‘There were strange rus- tlings and movements in the thickets, but the path was clearly defined and, by the glimpses he had of Bonnet L’Evéque, he knew they traveled away from it and toward the highway he had seen like a gray ribbon under the hot sun of afternoon. That highway would lead to Cap Francois one way, and Limonade the other. decide which direction to take. Then when it seemed as if the jungle was less dense and the stars showing thicker between the scarcer branches overhead, came a sound so close and startling that Basil’s arms caught Vio- lette, and she sobbed in sudden hysteria on his breast. “Mon Dieu, it is the end—death!’”’ she cried. His knife was in his hand. ‘They dared not go back. They faced an un- known possibility. He was conscious of only one thought, that if the inter- vening bushes screened the horror he magined, he would strike swiftly. Vio- lette must not leave his arms for that Voodoo fire. Death was heaven for her compared to that hell. CHAPTER XII. WHERE GHOSTS DANCE. IOLETTE did not realize it, but the point of Basil’s knife lay along her side. One quick up- ward thrust and her young heart would be stilled forever. His arm still held her while they waited. There had come no second raucous noise startling in the night stillness. The tensity of his fear was almost breaking his control into a wild shriek of hysteric laughter, for the sound which so frightened both was the sten- torian bray of a donkey. Gomichbooks When it was reached, he must (E@)