SOMETIME LAST MONDAY afternoon, Francois Nassau rested his distended belly on the floor of his father's hovel, curled one thin arm under his head, and quietly died. So silent was the boy's passing that his mother did not realize he was gone until she tried to rouse him. Francois was nine years old.
More than a year ago, Francois, his parents and 116 other Haitians had set out with a desperate sense of hope aboard a leaking sloop called Dieu Veut (God Wants). For two days they rolled and pitched across the rough stretch of sea between Haiti and Cuba that...
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