human
You spoke of treachery just now, said Moyse.
gpt
How do you propose to answer to my father for the charge he left you in me?
human
Be silent, my poor son, said Father Laxabon.
gpt
Do not spend your remaining moments in aggravating your crimes.
human
A few minutes' patience, father. I never before ventured to speak freely to my uncle. Not on account of any severity of his--he never was severe to me--but on account of a certain awe I felt of him--an awe which the events of this day have had a wonderful power to dispel.
gpt
It is well, said Toussaint.
human
There should be no awe of the creature when but a moment's darkness separates one from the Creator. Speak freely and fearlessly, Moyse.
gpt
I ask, said Moyse, in a somewhat softened tone,
human
Not by revealing to him the vices of the spirit he gave me to guide. If your father's heart must be broken for you, it shall be for having thus lost a noble and gallant son, and not for--But it is no time for reproach from me. Let me go now, my poor boy.
gpt
Not yet, uncle. It is far from sunrise yet. How do you mean to report of me to Genifrede? Will you make her detest me? Will you work upon her fears--her fears of my ghost--to make her seek refuge with another? Will you trample on the memory of the dead, to drive her into the arms of some living lover, that you may no longer be reminded of the poor wretch that you first fostered, and then murdered?
human
Leave us! said Laxabon to Toussaint.
gpt
He is desperate. Leave him to me, that he may not plunge deeper into sin with every word he speaks.
human
Presently, father.--Moyse, what Genifrede hears of you will be according to what Father Laxabon has to report of your last hours. Be assured that I shall not interpose between you and her. It rests with yourself to justify her love, and engage her affections to your memory. She has been laid to sleep this night, not out of enmity to you, but to save her brain. As Providence has decreed, it has also saved her life. When she awakes, she will regard you as a martyr to a professional necessity. A woman's love is sanctified and made immortal when baptised in the blood of martyrdom. Hers may be so, if your last moments are full of holy contrition, and purged from passion. Of Father Laxabon, and not of me, will Genifrede inquire concerning you.
gpt
This is kind--this is generous,
human
And now, said Toussaint,
gpt
I have to ask you to be generous to me. I need and implore your pardon, Moyse. While you were yet weak and wayward, I neglected the necessary watch over you. Too prone to ease and satisfaction, for my child's sake and my own, I too soon concluded you a man, and imposed upon you the duties of a man. Your failure is my condemnation. I have cut short your discipline, and enabled you to throw away your life. All this, and much more, am I answerable for. Whether or not God may have mercy, can you yield me your pardon? I implore it, Moyse.
human
Save me! uncle, save me! You can--you will--
gpt
No, Moyse, I will not--I cannot,
human
Not one word! continued L'Ouverture.
gpt
Keep your entreaties for Him who alone can help you. Kneel to Him alone. Rise, Moyse, and only say, if you can say it, that your last prayer for me shall be for pardon.
human
My destruction is my own work; and I have felt this throughout. But if you have ever done me wrong, may it be forgotten before God, as it is by me! I know of no such wrong.
gpt
Thank God! cried Toussaint, pressing him to his breast.
human
This is the temper which will win mercy.
gpt
Leave us now,