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When he lights is tu'ned out, Mista Raffin will be given fifteen minutes in which to summon de supernat'ral proofs whatevah dey may be of his bein' Voodoo. Den Mista Travis will be given his chanct." Amid the hushed whisperings of the assemblage the committee, six men and six women, Aphrodite included, took their places in the circle.
Benedict Young People's Guild, the sight of the coveted Miss Aphrodite whirling in the arms of the hated Raffin almost overcame him. Finally the lovesick Mr. Travis decided to call upon the lady of his heart and demand an explanation. After some rehearsal of what he wanted to say, Ambrose betook himself to the tenement in which the Tate family dwelt.
To win away his last cent to humble him to ruin him and then to break him in two and kick the pieces through the San Juan causeways, as per programme! This would be a revenge indeed! Ambrose noted with satisfaction that Mr. Raffin was already at play, and crossing the smoke-filled room he threw down some money and took his place in the game. Now, Mr.
An assenting murmur arose from the crowd, with much rolling of eyes and nodding of heads. Ambrose held up his hand for silence. A serious expression came over his features, and he towered tall and straight before them. "Gennlemen," he said, "Ah sho appreciates yo' good sperit in dis hyar unfo'tunate affair. But Ah tells you-all hyar an' now dat Dominique Raffin ain't no mo' Voodoo den Ah is.
Ambrose looked bewildered at the torn clothing he held in his hand, and then at the limp form of his late antagonist. Mr. Raffin lay groaning, naked from the waist up. Ambrose strode across to administer further chastisement, but was halted by a cry from one of the onlookers. This man stood pointing at Dominique's naked back pointing, and staring with eyes that rolled with genuine negro terror.
The Abbe Raffin, who knew his man and who never lost his temper, burst out laughing. "Well, yes, I'll tell your father my little story; but you, my lad, you'll come to church." Houlbreque extended his hand in order to give a solemn assurance: "On the word of a poor man, if you do this for me, I promise that I will." "Come, that's all right. When do you wish me to go and find your father?"
San Juan, fearing the Raffin mulatto and his ghostly powers, had held its respectful distance ever since the evening when Ambrose and his rage had revealed them. Familiarity breeding contempt, Miss Aphrodite knew her man, and feared him not. They found the rooms of the social club full of excited negroes, for never before in San Juan's history had such a momentous event been scheduled.
Miss Aphrodite gazed on the imposing figure of Ambrose with more than a little admiration. Comparing him with the trembling Raffin, she found much in his favour. All but his footwear. Accustomed as she had become to the glistening patent leathers affected by Raffin, Ambrose's clumsy congress gaiters somewhat marred his gorgeousness. Nevertheless, she felt her affections wavering.
Her feelings was likely to git the better of her at any moment; in which event Mr. Travis had better watch out, that was all jest watch out. The astounded Mr. Travis did his best to pacify this Amazon; to explain that he had merely come to inquire the reason for her displeasure; to learn in what respect Mr. Raffin had proved himself so sweetly desirable. The answer was brief and crushing.
The old man raised toward him an anxious eye full of suspicion, and, foreseeing danger, he was getting ready to climb up his ladder when the Abbe Raffin laid his hand on his shoulder and shouted close to his temple: "I want to have a talk with you, Father Amable." Cesaire had disappeared, taking advantage of the door being open.
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