Stone That the Builder Refused - Madison Smartt Bell [22]
Daspir sat down and dealt the cards. Cyprien and Paltre folded three times in succession, while Guizot bet heavily and lost. Guizot said nothing, but Cyprien could sense his rising anger; he had a weak head for liquor as well as for cards. Perhaps Daspir was aware of the strained mood also, for he squared the deck again and poured another dose of brandy all around.
“Your health, gentlemen,” he said, and when they’d drunk, “How long do you suppose we’ll be about this business?”
“Judging by tonight’s progress,” Paltre said, “you’ll have parted us from the remains of our substance in another week’s time.”
“In Saint Domingue, I mean,” said Daspir, with one of his fey giggles.
“Oh,” Paltre said, raising eyebrows in mock surprise. “In Saint Domingue.”
“How long can it possibly take to put down a nigger insurrection?” Guizot burst out. But Daspir kept looking quietly at Cyprien, who picked up his cup of brandy and drank. Guizot was already drunk, that was plain, and angry over his losses at the table.
“One rag-headed monkey at the head of a band of brigands,” Guizot grumbled. “Why, the four of us might go out and arrest him and put an end to the whole affair in a week.”
“Quiet,” Cyprien snapped, glancing pointedly at the partition in the bow. “You know that we have no such orders.”
“Nonsense.” Guizot belched. “They are sleeping. And if they heard, what would they understand . . .”
Daspir had begun to shuffle the cards again. His soft olive hands, with the neatly trimmed fingernails, moved smoothly over the deck. Cyprien exchanged a glance with Paltre. This nigger insurrection had been going on for ten years, though the two of them had thought no more of it on their first trip out than Guizot did now. During that earlier mission there had been some idle chatter of the same sort: a mere handful of men might arrest Toussaint, and never mind all Hédouville’s tedious temporizing. A couple of those chatterers, young officers with whom Cyprien and Paltre had struck up a short-term friendship, had been found dead on the road outside Gonaives, victims of an ambush which had never been explained or punished.
“Ours is a peaceful mission,” Cyprien said, reciting the official line. “As Toussaint Louverture professes loyalty to France, he must certainly bow to the authority of the Captain-General Leclerc.”
“Oh, to be sure,” Guizot snorted. “And for that one requires twentyfive thousand troops of the line. No, you speak of Hédouville and his style of diplomacy—and Hédouville ran home with his tail between his legs.”
Cyprien flattened his hands on the splintery surface of the packing case. For a long moment there was no sound audible above the ocean’s rhythm except the fluttering of the cards. A ship’s rat ran along the groove of the wall and deck and squeezed through a crack in the bow partition.
“I am sure you do not mean to insult me,” Cyprien said.
“Certainly not.” Daspir had spoken; he put down the cards. “Nor you nor Captain Paltre, I am sure.” Daspir looked at Guizot, his eyes grown chill.
“Not in the least, my friends.” Guizot, who was seated between Paltre and Cyprien, looked quickly from one to the other. “No, you are both men of courage and honor.” He hiccuped. “Enough word-mincing, is all I mean to say. Are we to be outfaced by some gilt nigger in a general’s suit? Are we not soldiers?”
Guizot reached for Cyprien’s and Paltre’s hands. Cyprien let his own be taken. At once he felt a surge of confused emotion, as if Guizot had communicated it with his touch. Daspir joined hands with them to close the circle.
“Come, shall we make a pact?” Guizot said. This time it was he who gave a meaning look at the bow partition. “We may be placed to have some special opportunity—and there’d be glory in it. Let it be the four of us who bring the rebel in.”
Cyprien thought of his comrades dead by the roadside, of Hédouville’s abrupt departure, which did have the taste of ignominy. For a second he caught Paltre’s eye. Shadows stroked across their faces with the swinging of the lamp. After all, there was something here to be