VI.
… NONE ever saw her by night. Her hour is the fulness of the
sun's flood-tide: she comes in the dead hush and white flame of
windless noons,—when colors appear to take a very unearthliness
of intensity,—when even the flash of some colibri, bosomed with
living fire, shooting hither and thither among the grenadilla
blossoms, seemeth a spectral happening because of the great green
trance of the land. …
Mostly she haunts the mountain roads, winding from plantation to
plantation, from hamlet to hamlet,—sometimes dominating huge
sweeps of azure sea, sometimes shadowed by mornes deep-wooded to
the sky. But close to the great towns she sometimes walks: she
has been seen at mid-day upon the highway which overlooks the
Cemetery of the Anchorage, behind the cathedral of St. Pierre. …
A black Woman, simply clad, of lofty stature and strange beauty,
silently standing in the light, keeping her eyes fixed upon the
Sun! …
