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Updated: September 4, 2025
The poor girl was sobbing violently, while Moyse was declaring that he would marry her, with or without consent, and carry her with him, if he was henceforth to live in the east of the island. "Patience, foolish boy!" cried his father. "You go not with me. I commit you to my brother. You will stay with him, and yield him the duty of a son a better duty than we heard you planning just now."
If I were to see him failing, as we once feared he would if I saw him yielding to his passions to the prejudices and passions of the negro and the slave, my reproof would be, `You forget Genifrede. Moyse has yet much to learn and much to overcome; yet I look upon Genifrede as perhaps the most favoured of our children. It is so great a thing to be so beloved!" "It is indeed the greatest thing."
I should have been mad!" "You are mad, Moyse," cried Genifrede, shrinking from him in terror. "I do not believe a word you say. I love another! they kill you! It is all false! I will not hear another word I will go." To go was, however, beyond her power. As she sank down again, trembling, Moyse said in the imperious tone which she both loved and feared "I am speaking the truth now.
"I remember my promise," said Toussaint; "but I must not leave my family unprotected. You will attend them to Pongaudin: and then let me see you at Cap, with the speed of the wind." "With a speed like your own, if that be possible," said Moyse. "Is there danger, father?" asked Genifrede, trembling.
"I rejoice to hear you say so, brother," said Toussaint. "Then, father, you will let me go," cried Moyse. "You will give me your gun, and let me go to the camp." "Yes, Moyse: rather you than I. You are a stout lad now, and I know nothing of camps. You shall take the gun, and I will stay and fish." "Leave your father his gun, if he chooses to remain, Moyse. We will find arms for you. Placide!
He turned, and walked back to his seat, when he saw his uncle and the priest. "You expected Genifrede?" asked Toussaint. "I did naturally." "She is asleep, and she must not be awakened. You would be the last to wish it, Moyse." "Must not be awakened," repeated Moyse to himself, with something of doubt in his tone something of triumph in his countenance.
He never rests. Your father would leave us in peace; but he has committed you to one who knows not what rest is." "Nor ever will," said Moyse. "If he closed his eyes, if he relaxed his hand, we should all be sunk in ruin." "We? Who? What ruin?" "The whole negro race. Do you suppose the whites are less cruel than they were?
She must be as well aware as himself that he was now wholly at her father's mercy, as regarded all his prospects in life; and that this would justify any eagerness to see him. "At his mercy," repeated Genifrede; "and he is merciful. He does acts of mercy every day." "True true. You see now you were too much alarmed." "But, Moyse, how came you to need his mercy?
It was Moyse who led his cousins to the part of the beach where portions of wrecks were most likely to be found, and who lent the strongest hand to remove such beams and planks as Dessalines wanted for his work. A house large enough to hold the family was soon covered in. It looked well, perched on a platform of rock, and seeming to nestle in a recess of the huge precipices which rose behind it.
And Toussaint crushed the ring to dust with the heel of his boot, and dashed the phial against the ceiling, from whence the poisonous water sprinkled the floor. "You spoke of treachery just now," said Moyse. "How do you propose to answer to my father for the charge he left you in me?" "Be silent, my poor son," said Father Laxabon. "Do not spend your remaining moments in aggravating your crimes."
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