Stone That the Builder Refused - Madison Smartt Bell [211]
“Leave the curtains shut. The night air is noxious, especially to an invalid.”
But he could not tell whom she addressed; she seemed to be alone in the room. The bed she sat beside was illuminated by white wax tapers fixed to each of its four posts. Amid the four flames the Captain-General Leclerc writhed feverishly in the sheets which would become his cerements. The mosquito lit on his pale, waxy throat. Pauline wept wretchedly at the bedside; Toussaint felt a touch of surprise that this accomplished courtesan could feel so much at the loss of one little husband. Leclerc twitched and shuddered as the mosquito’s needle-snout probed into his gullet for a final drop of blood. Pauline sobbed—could she be only acting? Then the blood was found, and all the thirst of the Invisibles joined in the frail machine of this one mosquito to share its winy taste.
Part Three
LA CRÊTE À PIERROT
February–March 1802
Vainqueurs partout, nous ne possédions rien au delà de nos fusils. L’ennemi ne tint nulle part, et pourtant il ne cessa pas d’être maître du pays.
—Lieutenant Moreau de Jonnes
Though victorious everywhere, we possessed nothing but our guns. The enemy did not hold out anywhere, and yet remained the master of the country.
21
At the center of the dawn bustle of the French camp at Ennery, Captain-General Leclerc positioned himself on a camp stool by the rolled flaps of his tent door, and extended first one foot, then the other, that his orderly might brush and polish his elegant high-topped boots. Cyprien and Daspir watched him at a little distance. Leclerc, who was perusing his dispatches, affected to ignore both the staff officers nearer to him and the orderly busy at his feet.
“That makes a week or better that he has not taken off his boots,” Daspir remarked, as he sliced into one of the perfectly ripe avocados he’d managed to acquire from a passing marchande an hour earlier. He’d slept uneasily and awakened before daylight, his unrest channeled into hunger. During his several trips through these mountains he’d learned that the market women traveled before dawn, and today he’d put the knowledge to good use.
“You don’t think he removes them when alone in his tent?” Cyprien sniffed.
“But no—our general is too much the man of honor.” Daspir popped the seed from his avocado and bit into the yellow-green flesh, his top teeth scraping the inside of the peel.
“Or too much governed by his pride,” said Cyprien. “Well, perhaps he does sleep in his boots—if not, his orderly would betray him.”
“It must be desperately uncomfortable,” Daspir said. “To wear one’s boots both night and day.”
“I think there are a good many soldiers in our command who would be glad to suffer so.”
“Well yes,” said Daspir. “I won’t dispute you there.” In fact, several supply ships had gone astray from the main fleet, one carrying a cargo of new boots, and for that reason a good number of the French soldiers marched in broken shoes, and a few went barefoot.
“Try an avocado?” Daspir said. “There are several, and I also managed a couple of oranges.”
“No thank you,” Cyprien replied. “I seldom have much appetite before a battle. Though I do hope we shall sup well tonight—in Gonaives.”
“Likewise,” said Daspir. He licked avocado paste from his fingers, letting the peel drop on the ground. “And may our commander pull off his boots this evening, and let his toes go free in the fresh air.”
“Yes,” said Cyprien. “It’s been a little longer than he wagered.”
What of their own wager, Daspir thought, but he said nothing of it. Cyprien