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 her with exultation even while his labored doubts led her heart out to him in his uncertainty.

"I believe in you, Count Dessalines!" she cried impulsively, and half-reached him her hand. It was a swift gesture, but before she could recover he had turned with the lithe, quick grace of a tiger, caught the hand in his huge black one, and stooped over it.

A thousand shudders swept through the girl as the thick lips, bulging, surplus, soft as the cheek of a mushroom, brushed her fingers; every nerve, fiber, tendril in her exquisite organization screamed in shocked protest against the physical contact; every invisible barrier which separates the races seemed struggling to resist. This flood of outraged impulses overcame her for the instant; objects whirled; the sea arose in a great tidal wave about to inundate the earth; her pulses sang in her ears; and then, as her will grappled with her instincts and clamped them to do her bidding, the swift sensation passed. Dessalines had loosed her hand, and glancing at him Virginia saw that his features were twitching and his eyes brimming with tears. Pity, sympathy, swept away the last of her qualms.

"Ah, Miss Moultrie!" he cried, "if you could realize what that belief means to me! If you knew how I am torn between confidence and doubts! You are the only person to whom I have told these things—expressed my fears of my own strength, my power, my ability—whatever it is which goes to make a ruler! What is it?" he demanded fiercely. "I have education, money, influence, advice; there is an army of picked men ready to respond to my call; the Haytians are not a fighting people; in ten days' time the arms and munitions will be 190