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L'Épine felt entrapped, regretful, and wished to recede. He winced palpably as O'Kimmon's rich Irish voice, full of words, struck once more upon the air. "Me godson, the Governor o' South Carolina," Terence O'Kimmon resumed, lying quite recklessly, "sint his humble respects, an' he's that swate upon yez that he licks his fingers ter even sphake yer name!
So practiced were the savages in all the arts of pantomime, in the interpretation of facial expression and the intonation of the voice, that L'Épine had known in his varied wanderings of instances of tribes in conference, each ignorant of the other's language, who nevertheless reached a definite and intricate mutual understanding without the services of an interpreter.
She really seemed to rush forward, and poor, panting Linette toiled after her, feeling ready to drop, while the way was as yet unobstructed, as the two beautiful steeples of the Cathedral and Notre Dame de l'Epine rose before them; but after a time, as they drew nearer, the road became obstructed by carts, waggons, donkeys, crowded with country-folks and their wares, with friars and ragged beggars, all pressing into the town, and jostling one another and the two foot-passengers all the more as rain-drops began to fall, and the thunder sounded nearer.
The beginning, with what I have been able to recollect of the remainder, is as follows: Tircis, je n'ose Ecouter ton Chalumeau Sous l'Ormeau; Car on en cause Deja dans notre hameau. un Berger s'engager sans danger, Et toujours l'epine est sons la rose. I have endeavored to account for the invincible charm my heart feels on the recollection of this fragment, but it is altogether inexplicable.
I shall take the same Liberty in a following Paper, of giving my Opinion upon the Subject of Musick, which I shall lay down only in a problematical Manner to be considered by those who are Masters in the Art. Tofts in the chief character, and her Italian rival, Margarita de l'Epine, singing Italian songs before and after the Opera.
The two loiterers were apparently motionless at first, but as their confidence increased and the chances of being observed lessened, L'Épine, always dreading discovery, began to casually pass the gravel and sand through his fingers as he lay; sometimes he idly trifled with the blade of a hoe in a shallow pool left by the receding waters, while the jolly Irishman, now grave and solicitous, watched him breathlessly.
The exploration of L'Épine and O'Kimmon of necessity was conducted chiefly by day, but one night the prospectors could not be still, the moon on the sand was so bright! The time which they had fixed for a silent, secret departure was drawing near. Their bags were almost filled, but they lingered for a little more, and covetously a little more still.
Then L'Épine would shake his head, and the mercurial O'Kimmon groaned his deep despondency. Once the Frenchman's head was not shaken. A flush sprang up among the pragmatic lines of L'Épine's face; his dark eyes glittered; his hand shook; for as he held out the hoe, on its blade were vaguely glimmering particles among the sand. Later the two adventurers cherished a small nugget of red, red gold!
L'Épine adjured O'Kimmon in a low voice. "I'm not used to it! 'T would give me me death o' cold!" quavered the Irishman, in sad sincerity, at a grievous loss. "No, by the powers, not English!" exclaimed the Irishman impulsively, seeing he was already discovered. "I'm me own glorious nation! the pride o' the worruld, I was born in the Emerald Isle, the gem o' the say!
"Frinch in the mornin', plaze yer worship, an' only a bit o' English late in the afternoon o' the day," cried O'Kimmon, officiously, himself once more. "French father, English mother," explained L'Épine, feeling that the Indian was hardly a safe subject for the pleasantries of conundrums.
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