A SUMMONS
swept from Dessalines in a breath; throwing back his great head he exploded with laughter.
Giles, uncomfortable, vexed, puzzled, stared at him resentfully.
"Don't be angry, Giles; I lose my temper each time I think of the indignities"—the shadow fell again—"but the expression of your face was—amusing." The broad smile swept away the shadow which returned on the instant. "I will not tell you what happened, Giles; it is enough to say that I was outraged, insulted, humiliated from the time that I set foot upon the gang plank to go ashore; and at last I was maddened. My race develops early, Giles, and even at that age I was physically powerful and had never been taught the necessity of controlling my temper. You can imagine the result. I was in jail, bruised and bleeding, before I had been an hour ashore."
The expression of savagery returned. This time Giles understood, although, being an Englishman, he was unable to conceive the conditions which would attend a negro in Dessalines' position in the New York of fifteen years before.
"Fortunately I had plenty of money," said Dessalines, "so I sent for the captain of the steamer, a friend of my father's, and he straightened matters with the authorities. The municipal administration of New York being no different from that of Hayti it was only a question of money enough to set me at liberty. The following day I sailed on the French steamer, and since then when I have crossed it has been always by the French mail from Martinique."
"But I fancy you must have been a bit cheeky,
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