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 though doubting that Miragoâne possessed the key to the cipher. Still, if he did not, he might get it the sooner to Dessalines.

"Here are five gourdes besides. Perhaps the general may pay you more. Now go quickly."

"Oui, m'cher, merci, m'cher—oh, oh!" he shambled to the gate, remounted, and rattled off into the darkness.

For several minutes after he had gone Jules remained plunged in meditation; his master's cause was to his mind as good as lost; his master's fortune as well! He walked through the house to the veranda which overhung the valley, now laden with the night. Up from the depths welled in even, unruffled cadence the tireless beat of the drum. The mist-laden darkness hung like a wet pall, a shroud, a bier cloth. Jules looked down; he shivered.

"Peste!" muttered the faithful fellow. He twiddled the note in his fingers. "It is triste below, but—but"

He walked rapidly through the house, closing the door behind him.

"Peste!" he said again. "A thief could walk through the side of one of these ridiculous houses!"

He had located the path during the day; that is, he had strayed as far as the edge of the jungle. Jules shivered again but held upon his course.

He passed through the bananas, over the brink, entered the gloom. The shadows closed in about him.

These black shadows were his pall; the mist hanging from the treetops his winding sheet; the valley his tomb. 248