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"Ha, ha, ha!" he shouted. "Zat was a leetle joke at my friend's eggspense. It is here, in my castle, you shall visit me; some day very soon I shall live in him. Meanvile, dear Mrs. Gallosh, gonsider it your home! For me you make it heaven, and I cannot ask more zan zat! Now let us gom and have some fon!" A salvo of applause greeted this conclusion.
Where were you when I was in your room just now?" His shoes were on. "Vhat you vanted mit me? I vas by dot librair' going. For vhat you moof dot putterfly-net fon t'e mandtelpiece? You make me too much troubple to find dot vhen I vas in a hurry!" He shook it at me. "Hurry!" In my anger and distress I laughed. "My friend" laying a hand on him "you'll hurry across the street with me."
"Ah," said he, "'tis no use tryin' hide from you. However, Monsieur Reetchie, you are the ver' soul of honor. And then your frien'! I know you not betray the Sieur de St. Gre. He is ver' fon' of you." "Betray!" I exclaimed; "there is no question of betrayal. As far as I can see, your plans are carried on openly, with a fine contempt for the Federal government." He shrugged his shoulders.
He wuz so sho' he wuz gwine ter git 'er in de spring, dat he did n' 'pear ter 'low he had ter do any co'tin', en w'en he 'd run 'cross Chloe 'bout de house, he 'd swell roun' 'er in a biggity way en say: "'Come heah en kiss me, honey. You gwine ter be mine in de spring. You doan 'pear ter be ez fon' er me ez you oughter be.
"A promise to a lady is a law," replied the Baron gallantly, adding in a lower tone, "especially to so fair a lady!" "It's a pity his lordship hadn't on his kilt," put in Mr. Gallosh genially. "By ze Gad, I vill put him on! Hoch! Ve vill have some fon!" The Baron rushed from the hall, followed in a moment by his noble friend. Bunker found him already wrapping many yards of tartan about his waist.
"That's so," assented Robert. "I know'd Miss Nancy's fadder and mudder. Dey war mighty rich. Some ob de real big bugs. Marse Jim used to know dem, an' come ober ter de plantation, an' eat an' drink wen he got ready, an' stay as long as he choose. Ole Cousins used to have wine at dere table ebery day, an' Marse Jim war mighty fon' ob dat wine, an' sometimes he would drink till he got quite boozy.
"An' dere's dat ole broken pot we used, ter tell 'bout de war. But warn't ole Miss hoppin' wen she foun' out you war goin' to de war! I thought she'd go almos' wile. Now, own up, Robby, didn't you feel kine ob mean to go off widout eben biddin' her good bye? An' I ralely think ole Miss war fon' ob yer. Now, own up, honey, didn't yer feel a little down in de mouf wen yer lef' her."
"Then, almoze while she saying that, that son of De l'Isle he say to my son who he's fon' of like a brother, and my son of him likewise, though the one is a so dashing and the other a so quiet ''Oiseau, he say, biccause tha'z the nickname of my son, 'papa and me we visit' the French consul to-day and arrange' a li'l' affair. "And when he want' to tell some mo' my son he stop' him: 'Enough!
And no man living in MacLeod's Settlement had ever known Dave Drennen to sit into any sort of game until now. "Tiens!" whispered a dried up little fellow who had come down the river from Moosejaw during the afternoon. "There shall be fon, mes enfants! One day I see heem play la roulette in the place of Antoine Duart'. There shall be fon, mes enfants!
"De waitresses am busy, a-flyin' eroun' wid de side dishes, an' Mis' Colby, she serbs at her side ob de table, w'en Mars' Colby, he get up tuh carve. "'Wot paht ob de goose is yo' mos' fon' of, Miss Lee? he say to de young lady on hes right han', monst'ous perlite lak. "'I'd lak' a slice ob de laig, Cunnel, she say; 't'ank yo'." Uncle Rufus was surely enjoying himself.
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