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Updated: June 15, 2025
Genifrede heard from the direction in which they were, sometimes smothered laughter, but, for the most part, a never-ending, low murmur of voices, as if they were telling one another interminable stories. Genifrede never could make out what Isaac and Aimee could be for ever talking about.
"Well, I will go," said Therese, gently. "One kiss, Aimee, for Genifrede's sake!" "For your own," said Aimee, tenderly embracing her. "Bring back poor Genifrede! Tell her we will devote ourselves to her." "Bring back my child," said Margot. "Be sure you tell her that there may be good news yet. Moyse may have explanations to give; he may do great things yet."
"If," said Madame, in a whisper to Genifrede, "if these honours that they speak of come from Bonaparte if he has answered your father's letter, your father will think his happiness complete now we know that the boys are well." "The First Consul has written, or will write, no doubt," said Aimee. "It must be pleasant to him as to my father, to greet a brother in destiny and in glory.
"Father!" said Genifrede, appealing to Toussaint, with a grave countenance, "you say that none but brave and steady souls must go with you on your way to martyrdom. You know me to be cowardly as a slave, and unstable as yonder boat now tossing on the waves. Do you see that boat, father?" "Surely yes; it is Paul;" said Toussaint, looking through his glass. "Paul is coming to say farewell."
After repeated entreaties that she would say one word, Moyse raised her up, and, looking in her face, said authoritatively "You will do as I say, Genifrede?" "Moyse, I dare not. No, no, I dare not! If, when we are dead, you should be dead to me too! And how do we know?
You should have repented sooner: it is too late now." "I do not repent, Genifrede; but I mourn, my child." "There are no more such," pursued she. "He was gallant." "He was." "He was all life: there was no deadness, no coldness he was all life." "He was, my child." "And such a lover!" she continued, with something of a strange proud smile. "He was a lover, Genifrede, who made your parents proud."
"And it was the French," said Euphrosyne, "who made this last commotion. If they had let L'Ouverture alone, how happy we might all have been! Now, Genifrede will never be happy again. If L'Ouverture could only have forgiven this once! But, father, I have no comfort and never shall have comfort, as long as I think that men have been murdered for injuring us." "Pray for comfort, my child.
On this occasion, the sun was still half-an-hour above the horizon, when Madame Dessalines appeared, in her riding-dress, and, as she said, in haste. She spoke apart with Madame L'Ouverture and Toussaint; and presently called Genifrede to the conference. Therese had of late wanted help at Saint Marc help in directing the nursing of the sick. Now she must have it.
"Genifrede is better," said Euphrosyne; "better since we came here better every day: and I should wonder if she were not. No one can long be sullen here." "Do not be hard, Euphrosyne, my love `Sullen' is a hard word for my poor, unhappy child." "Nay, madam; no one can be more sorry for her than I am; as you will find, if you ask Father Gabriel.
I can direct you to one, near at hand, who prepares the red water, and knows me well. I will give you an order for red water enough for us both. You will come your father will not refuse our joint request you will come to me as soon as the trial is over; and then, love, we will never be parted more." Genifrede sat long with her face hidden on her lover's shoulder, speechless.
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