"Would you prefer a rubber?"
"Yes; a rubber, by all means. But," continued Delange, "a thought has just struck me. If I win, I shall not owe you anything."
"Certainly not, because we are going to play double or quits."
"In that case we shall not play any more to the end of the journey?" said the Doctor, in a tone of dismay.
"Make your mind easy," replied de Morin. "I will not be as cruel as all that. We have agreed to play for fifty louis every day, and we will go on doing so. If I am the loser in the end, so much the worse for me. The contract remains in full force, and this breaking through its provisions must be looked upon as an exceptional case."
"Then I have nothing more to say," rejoined Delange. "I was getting rather nervous, I admit, and I was thinking of making my way back to Paris alone. But as long as I can play cards every day, I am delighted with Africa."
Whilst this conversation was going on these two dear lunatics had advanced about three hundred yards towards the opposing forces, and I walked with them, watching the flight of arrows through the air, and listening to their hissing noise, now very plainly audible.
CHAPTER VI.
The war cries, shouts, and the groans of the wounded were also distinctly heard by us. The Domondoos express their sufferings by the cry Aou! Aou! or, if their agony is extreme, by Akonn! Akonn! The Monbuttoo expression, on the contrary, is Nanegoué! Nanegoué!
"You see, my dear Périères," said de Morin, "that we were quite right to leave the pit of the theatre and take our places in the stalls; we are gaining instruction. These cries teach us that every nation expresses suffering in a different way. The French people say—Aïe! Aïe! Oh! la! la! The English call out—Oh! oh! oh! The Germans— Och! och! och! The Bungos—Aah! The Djours—Aooay! As for the Monbuttoos, you can hear what they say, and I am free to confess that the fools cry out loud enough."