WE left Nassau the following morning. On the third day we passed the Inaguas and sighted Tortuga. They were days rich with the tropical outpourings of Dr. Ulswater, into whose warm Gulf Stream of conversation Mrs. Mink now and then dropped cool comments and punctuations that excited his luxuriant praise. What Mrs. Mink thought of Dr. Ulswater was not so clear.

The green cliffs of Haiti overhung a white surf, and the lapping mouths of half-submerged caves below; above was the tangle of the forest, great pendant leaves, sweeping and coiling creepers. It was the hot morning of the fourth day. There was a thin, shining mist about, and Dr. Ulswater quoted:

“... soft and purple mist

Like a vaporous amethyst,

... red and golden vines

Piercing with their trellised lines

The rough dark-skirted wilderness.

“Vaporous amethyst!” he murmured, sentimentally. “Gaseous spirit of jewel! Ah, Mrs. Mink! Lyric poetry, is it not a religion?”

Mrs. Mink shook her head.

“You see a distinction. You are right. You would say, in the worship of beauty the ethical element is too subsidiary. You would point out the lack of rigidity and purpose.”

Mrs. Mink did not commit herself. We watched the smoke of a steamer coming toward us from the east.

“I see the deep's untrampled floor!” murmured Dr. Ulswater.

The steamer, a dilapidated side-wheeler, drew nearer, and a small cannon was plainly to be seen in the prow, but the only men in sight were a negro at the wheel and another walking the bridge. As they came within hailing, the cannon went off suddenly, the ball boomed overhead, and struck, spat! against the cliff, and on the deck a crowd of negroes sprang up and fell to dancing, howling, waving their guns. Mrs. Mink said, “For goodness' sake!” while Dr. Ulswater and I went to join Captain Jansen.

“Yas,” he said, “I didn't know. If I know, I got avay.”

Three boat-loads of negroes were coming to board us. In the prow of the first was one tall and thin, with a gold-laced regimental coat, a tasselled sword, a wide-brimmed straw hat, and the dignity of a commodore. They drew under the side, and Dr. Ulswater and this Commodore talked Haitian French.

Then they scrambled aboard, marched aft in an orderly manner, squatted on the deck against the rail at the edge of the flowered carpet. Most of them grinned sociably and chattered to each other. The crew of the Violetta remained forward discussing them. Dr. Ulswater, the Commodore, Captain Jansen, and I sat down under the awning in the upholstered chairs, together with Mrs. Mink. Dr. Ulswater explained, cheerfully:

“He says he's an insurrection. He admits that we're not the enemy, but says he's got to have the Violetta in order to triumph over the tyrant of Haiti. When he has triumphed we will be rewarded,—meaning he'll be in a position to pay damages. He thinks our consciences will reward us, too. He thinks that's a strong point,—maybe stronger than the other. He has only that one war-ship, and he needs another in order to attack the navies of the tyrant. If you ask whether he's innocent or clever, why, I give it up, but I guess he's superlatively one of them. He appears to be calm.”

“Do you mean he wants me to give him the Violetta?” asked Mrs. Mink, sharply.

“Something resembling that, and it's not so unnatural,”—Dr. Ulswater waved his hand balmily,—“you know, from his point of view——”

“Nonsense! I sha'n't do anything of the kind!”

“But—well—I gather his innocence is such that he might get up and take it.”

“I'd like to see him! Who is he?”

She was sharp-voiced, alert, and keen. Dr. Ulswater seemed bewildered.

“Yes, but I gather he's a sort of patriotic pirate,—piratical so far that it might not do to irritate him.”

Mrs. Mink softened a degree: “Is he patriotic?”

“My experience in this neighbourhood,” said the doctor, “has been that patriotic leaders, who are down on the tyrant, are generally looking for his job. But now, as they appear to be some two or three to one of us, and armed, and, technically speaking, to have the drop on us,—why, there's a West-Indian proverb to the effect that 'A spider and a fly don't bargain,' but I would suggest something diplomatic, something perhaps a little yielding. Something of that kind.”

The Commodore all this while sat stiffly upright, with one hand on the hilt of his tasselled sword and no expression on his face, glaring away from us across the sea. It seemed to me that his bearing couldn't be natural to a being with human weaknesses, and that it went beyond the real requirements of his uniform. I judged he had gotten it off an equestrian statue.

Dr. Ulswater began to talk with him again. Of the military, on the edge of the flowered carpet, some looked genial, some murderous—most of them genially murderous. Captain Jansen pulled his beard and looked meekly at Mrs. Mink, and Mrs. Mink examined the Commodore critically.

“He says,” resumed Dr. Ulswater, “that it's a military crisis, and he must have another war-ship or go under. When he has conquered the ships of the tyrant, he will reward us. His remarks, like his manner, are a bit monotonous, but I gather he's nearly, what you might call, on his last legs. He rather intends to put us all ashore.”

“Fiddlesticks!”

“A—certainly! You think———”

“Fiddlesticks!”

Dr. Ulswater subsided.

“Ask them if they don't want some coffee. Ask how many are left in the other ship. They can have some too.”

Dr. Ulswater reported that they did; that there were five on the war-ship; that the Commodore was gratified to find madam accepted the necessity amiably.

The crew and all of us hurried under Mrs. Mink's orders. She collected cups and glasses. She called for three kettles of boiling water to the cabin, and closed the door. There were six of us, including Captain Jansen and the Irish girl, Norah.

“Now, Dr. Ulswater, you must help. Listen! You must put them to sleep.”

“A——

“Listen! These two kettles will hold about thirty cups. Don't give them too much. See that they all drink it at the same time. Send a pot to the other ship. When they're all asleep, put them ashore. Now don't tell me you can't, or you haven't anything to do it with, because you must! I won't stand it! The idea of giving up the Violetta to be shot at! How do I know what would happen to it? This pot we'll keep for ourselves, and pour into the blue cups. Hush! Don't talk to me! Ask them to drink a health or something to something or other, so they'll go to sleep together. Give up the Violetta! That silly, conceited thing sitting up there like a barber's pole and asking me that!”

“You want some knock-out drops!” gasped Dr. Ulswater.

“Hush! Laudanum, laughing-gas! You know. Hurry!”

Dr. Ulswater gazed at her with speechless admiration, took the two kettles, and disappeared in the passageway toward his cabin.

“Captain Jansen, you'll take this gray pot to the other ship, and only one man with you, so they won't suspect; as soon as they're asleep you better tie them up and come back. Put the trays on the table, Mr. Kirby, and the cups and things on the trays. Keep the blue cups together. Do you know if they like sugar?”

Dr. Ulswater returned.

“Now take the gray pot, Captain Jansen. We won't serve here till you get there. Norah, pour them fuller. Dr. Ulswater, you must go out and explain. Tell them it will be ready in a few moments.”

Dr. Ulswater opened the door and went out, muttering, “Wonderful!”

The Commodore sat as before, holding his sword-hilt. The military sat between the rail and the edge of the carpet. Dr. Ulswater made a speech, which appeared to please them. Captain Jansen and one of the crew rowed away in the boat, the captain nursing the gray pot and the tea tray on his knee.

Mrs. Mink filled cups, glasses, and tins.

“I hope it will make that barber's pole sick. There! Captain Jansen has gone up, Dr. Ulswater! Tell them about taking it all together. Tell them to wait till we're ready. Mr. Kirby, you're spilling. Take care of the blue cups, and let the men pass the other trays. You two go to the right, you two to the left, you to the other end. Now we're ready.”

Norah was pallid. The twenty patriots took their cups in hand and waited with wide, grinning mouths. Dr. Ulswater lifted his coffee-cup.

“À la Patrie!” he cried. “La RÉvolution! Ça ira! Let her go!”

“They haven't all emptied their cups, Dr. Ulswater!”

“Encore!” thundered the doctor. “La RÉvolution! Videz toutes! Bottoms up.”

“Goodness!” cried Mrs. Mink. “How they look!” and ran into the cabin, followed by Norah, shrieking.

Under the spell of Dr. Ulswater's powerful drops the twenty negroes stared, grunted, fell back, twitching, kicking, astonished, breathing in snorts. Glass and china crashed on the deck. One of them staggered up with a yell and dropped again. One rolled half across the flowered carpet. The Commodore struggled for an instant with his tasselled sword, and subsided, muttering. The long rows of limp and ragged men, of black faces and open mouths, were ghastly and still. A gun was discharged on the war-ship.

“Tie them up!” cried Mrs. Mink from the cabin.

Dr. Ulswater turned about, beaming at me. “A remarkable opiate, that, Kit! I always said so,” and pulled out his notebook, and made notes, aloud: “On two of the subjects evidently painful in action—ten to twenty seconds—per man three grains—muscular contractions, followed by total relaxation and coma—in case observed dissolved in solution of coffee—Remarkable!”

“Tie them up!” cried Mrs. Mink again.

Captain Jansen, with his man, came back and reported that his cases had been disorderly. One of them had discharged his gun and fallen down the gangway.

We carried them, one by one, to the boats and tugged back and forth across a hot and heaving stretch of water, till they were all landed. Some of them were stirring and made a noise.

When the last boat-load was gone, Dr. Ulswater and I came back under the awning. Norah was washing dishes in the cabin, Mrs. Mink sweeping the deck with a broom. The guns lay along the scuppers. She stopped, and lifted a troubled face to Dr. Ulswater.

“Will it do them any harm?”

Dr. Ulswater seemed subdued: “It will make them sick at the stomach. A—a moral lesson.”

“I should think as much!” she said, sweeping vigorously. “That impudent barber! Did he want to be President?”

“I understood he had ambitions.”

She hesitated again: “Do you think the revolution ought to succeed, if their government is very bad? Or would it be better to stop it?”

Dr. Ulswater gasped again, but recovered himself, and brought his mind back to gravity and consideration: “My observation has been that, though tropical governments are sometimes objectionable, these frequent violences seldom improve them, and create distress. I think it is generally more benevolent to back the existing state of things.”

“Oh! Then I think Captain Jansen had better tie something to the other ship, so that we can pull it after us and give it to the other people. Anyway,” she ended, sharply, “I'm sure that conceited thing would make a bad President.”

It was high noon when we steered away for Cape Haitien, towing the war-ship. On shore two or three revolutionists were climbing a gully in the cliffs. Others were sousing their heads in the surf. More of them seemed to be still sick or drowsy. Mrs. Mink went to take a nap. Dr. Ulswater and I leaned against the rail. Captain Jansen edged toward us.

“My, my!” he said. He rubbed his beard a moment, shook his head thoughtfully, and went forward.

Dr. Ulswater pressed his handkerchief to his wet forehead. The heat was great.

“Kit,” he said, solemnly, “this is a discovery. Personality to burn. Captured by desperate insurrectionists, she demands knock-out drops. She puts them to sleep with a coffee-pot, and bundles them ashore. And why not? She balances the issue of a people, tows off a war-ship, and squelches revolution. Why not? And yet, what a phenomenon of intrepid reason! What a woman!”