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The quadroon motioned "enough." There was a heat in his eyes which Frowenfeld had never seen before. "M'sieu'," he said, "waid till Agricola Fusilier ees keel." "Do you mean 'dies'?" "No," insisted the quadroon; "listen." "Tale me," said the landlord, as he concluded the recital, "w'y deen Bras Coupé mague dad curze on Agricola Fusilier? Becoze Agricola ees one sorcier!
She spoke with a nervous tenderness in contrast with her alarmed and entreating expression of face, and gently pushed him into a chair. The child ran behind the bed and burst into frightened sobs, but ceased when Clotilde turned for an instant and glared at her. "Mague yo' 'ead back," said Clotilde, and with tremulous tenderness she softly pressed back his brow and began wiping off the blood.
I 'ave de righd to wadge dad man wad mague rimark aboud me dotter." "I never did no such a thing." "You did." "I never did no such a thing." "Bud you 'ave jus hacknowledge' " "I never did no such a thing, I tell ye, and the man that's told ye so is a liur!" "Ah-h-h-h!" said the old man, wagging his finger "Ah-h-h-h! You call Manuel Mazaro one liar?" The Irishman laughed out.
Now his decision was made, and he touched her softly with the ends of his fingers. "Madame Delphine, I want you to go at 'ome. Go at 'ome." "Wad you goin' mague?" she asked. "Nottin'. But go at 'ome. Kip quite; don' put you'se'f sig. I goin' see Ursin. We trah to figs dat law fo' you." "You kin figs dad!" she cried, with a gleam of joy. "We goin' to try, Madame Delphine. Adieu!"
A vehicle rumbled by in the street below, and passed away. At the bottom of the room, where a gilded Mars was driving into battle, a soft note told the half-hour. The lady spoke again. "Id mague" she sighed once more "so strange, sometime' I thing I'm git'n' crezzy."
He offered his hand. She seized and kissed it thrice, covering it with tears, at the same time lifting up her eyes to his and murmuring: "De bez man God evva mague!" At the door she turned to offer a more conventional good-bye; but he was following her out, bareheaded.
He opened his lips to say he knew not what, when his ear caught the voice of Manuel Mazaro, replying to the greeting of some of his comrades outside the front door. "He is comin'!" cried the old man. "Mague you'sev hide, Madjor; do not led 'im kedge you, Mon Dieu!" The Irishman smiled. "The little yellow wretch!" said he quietly, his blue eyes dancing. "I'm goin' to catch him."
"Well, then, we'll sweep around the slebeen hills here, keepin' Altnaveenan to our right, and Lough Mocall to our left; then, by going right ahead we'll come to his stables; and indeed they're well worth seein'." "With all my heart, Mague, never say it again." And they accordingly proceeded at a vigorous pace to the mountains, which were now distant not more than a mile and a half from them.
"'Tis a good idy," responded the banker. "I kin mague you de troub' to kib dad will fo' me Miché Vignevielle?" "Yez." She looked up with grateful re-assurance; but her eyes dropped again as she said: "Miché Vignevielle" Here she choked, and began her peculiar motion of laying folds in the skirt of her dress, with trembling fingers.
"Miché," she replied, looking up again with a tear standing in either eye, and then looking down once more as she began to speak, "I thing I thing she's lonesome." "You thing?" She nodded. "Ah! Madame Carraze," he said, partly extending his hand, "you see? 'Tis impossible to mague you' owze shud so tighd to priv-en dad. Madame, I med one mizteg." "Ah, non, Miché!" "Yez.
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