are tropical fruits and cooling drinks in earthen jugs, one or two
palm-trees, and Caribbean pottery on shelves. In one corner is a harp.

In the distance is heard a loud menacing roar. The sky is covered with
racing clouds. Suffusing everything is a livid light.

Mistress Fawcett is leaning on her crutch, looking through one of the
windows. Two slaves are crouching on the floor. All are in an intense
attitude, listening. Suddenly there is heard the quick loud firing of
cannon, four guns in rapid succession. The negroes shriek and crouch
lower as if they would insinuate their trembling bodies through the
floor. Mistress Fawcett hastily closes the window by which she is
standing, swings to and bars its shutters. Immediately after may be
heard the sound, gradually diminishing in the distance, of a long line
of windows slammed and barred. Mistress Fawcett attempts to move the
shutters of the other window, but the hinges are rusty and defy her
feeble strength.]

MISTRESS FAWCETT (to the slaves). Come here. Close this window. Did you
not hear the guns? A hurricane is upon us.

THE SLAVES (crouching lower and wailing almost unintelligibly). Oh,
mistress, save us! Send for oby doctor!

MISTRESS FAWCETT. To strangle you with a horse-hair pie! Your obeah
charlatans are grovelling in their cellars. Only our courage and our
two hands can save us to-day. Come! (Beating the floor with her crutch.)
A hundred man slaves on the estate, and not one to help us save the
house! Are my daughter and I to do it all? Get up! (She menaces them
with her crutch.)