DESSALINES' HOUR
"They told me at the house that I would find some one in the garden"—his voice was like the purr of a well-fed tiger—"but I see only flowers."
Virginia raised herself, flushed, breathless, startled. It was the first time that Dessalines had ventured to pay her a direct compliment. It gave her something of the sensation one might feel if, while wandering in a tropical jungle, a tiger were to slip from the striped shadows, fall at one's feet, and lick the hand with a rough tongue.
"It is evident that the French influence has made itself felt in Hayti," said Virginia lightly, for by this time Dessalines had lost much of his emotional excitement for her, although still holding an odd, negative attraction.
"It is to-day that I have first appreciated its advantage," said Dessalines. "There are many things which I have only commenced to appreciate lately." He looked fixedly at Virginia, who turned away breathless, nervous, dreading, yet perversely attracted at the thought of a confidence, the thought of being shown the dark, hidden recesses of this sinister soul. "You have taught me much, Miss Moultrie."
"I am glad," said Virginia feebly. "I also have learned much from you; you have given me a valuable impression of your race—its lost grandeur and its possibilities. I—I—shall follow your career with interest and sympathy."
Dessalines' metallic eyes flashed; with a quick gesture he caught the girl's hand, bent down from his great height, and brushed it with his lips.
At that moment Manning and Leyden entered the garden from the far end.
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