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"'Sieu' Frowenfel'!" cried Clotilde, tears leaping to her eyes, "I am shoe of it!" "I believe you! I believe you, 'Sieur Frowenfel'!" exclaimed Raoul with sincerity. "You will not believe me," said Joseph. "You will not; it will be impossible." "Mais" cried Clotilde, "id shall nod be impossib'!" But the apothecary shook his head.
"'E gone at Doctah Kin." "I do not need Doctor Keene; I am not badly hurt. Raoul should not have left you here in this manner. You must not stay." "Bud, 'Sieur Frowenfel', I am afred to paz dad gangue!" A new distress seized Joseph in view of this additional complication. But, unmindful of this suggestion, the fair Creole suddenly exclaimed: "'Sieu' Frowenfel', you har a hinnocen' man!
She found water and a basin, wet her own handkerchief, and dropped to her knees beside his head; but the moment he felt the small feminine hands he stood up. She took him by the arm. "Asseyez-vous, Monsieu' pliz to give you'sev de pens to seet down, 'Sieu' Frowenfel'."
Go, hopen yo' do's an' stan juz as you har ub biffo dad crowd and sesso! My God! 'Sieu' Frowenfel', iv you cannod stan' ub by you'sev " She ceased suddenly with a wild look, as if another word would have broken the levees of her eyes, and in that instant Frowenfeld recovered the full stature of a man. "God bless you!" he cried. "I will do it!"
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