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"Yas, he asket me where is Ballards' folks, und I tol' heem by peek-neek, und he asket me where is it for a peek-neek is dey gone, und I tol' heem by Carter's woods by der river, und he asket me is Mees Betty gone by dem yet or is she home, und I tol' heem yas she is gone mit, und he is off like der vind on hees horse already." "When did you see the prisoner next?" "By Ballards' yard dot time."
It is the fine peek-neek. Never have I slept so before." "I, too, have slept nicely," said Miss Lady, "and I want to thank you. Shall we be out of the wood so soon?" There was small elation in her own voice, after all. In her soul there was a wild, inexplicable longing that this present hour might endure. Fear was gone, in some way, she knew not how.
"By Ballards' I seen heem first he vas horse ridin' dot time. It vas nobody home by Ballards' dot time. Eferybody vas gone off by dot peek-neek." "At that time did the prisoner speak to you?"
"It is very beautiful on the big rocks to watch the ocean, under the moonlight." "A merienda?" "A peek-neek." "Good! You will not forget that?" She smiled at his boyishness. "It will be at the next moon. I promise." Benicia sang another song, and a half-dozen caballeros stood about her, regarding her with glances languid, passionate, sentimental, reproachful, determined, hopeless.
"I much appreciate your friendship, Capitan Brotherton. You give me much advice that is good for me, and tell me many things. It is like the ocean wind when you have live long in the hot valley. Yes, dear friend, I forget you are in the navy of the conqueror." "Mamacita," broke in Benicia's light voice, "tell us now when we can have the peek-neek." "To-morrow night." "Surely?" "Surely, niñita."
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