“My faith! You’ll know Monsieur Edouard!” The keeper shook my hand. “H’I’ll was work for Monsieur Edouard manny tam hon hees boat, hon hees plantation, hon hees ’ouse. When I’ll want some leetle money, s’pose those hrat he’ll wasn’t been prime yet, hall H’I’ll need was to go non Monsieur Edouard, hask for those leetle monny. He’ll han’ it on me, yass, heem, ten dollar, jus’ like as heasy Monsieur has gave it me hondred dollar now, yas, heem!”
“Yes? Well, I know that a cousin of Jean Lafitte—who no doubt has dug for treasure all over the dooryard of Monsieur Edouard——”
“But not behin’ the smoke-house—nevair on dose place yet, I’ll swear it!”
“—Very well, suppose you have not yet included the smoke-house of Monsieur Edouard, at least you are his friend. And what Acadian lives who is not a friend of the ladies?”
“Certain’, Monsieur.”
“Very well again. What you see in the paper is all false. The two ladies whose pictures you see here, and here, are yonder at our camp. You shall come and see that they are well and happy, both of them. Moreover, if you like another fifty for the mass for Jean Lafitte’s soul, you, yourself, my friend, shall pilot us into the channel of Monsieur Edouard. We’ll tow your boat behind us across the bay. Is it not?”
“Certain’! oui!” answered the tender. “But you’ll had leetle dish coffee quite plain?” once more demanded the lonesome keeper; and for sake of his hospitable soul we now said yes; and very good coffee it was, too: and the better since I knew it meant we now were friends. Ah! pirate blood is far thicker than any water you may find.
“But if we take you on as pilot, my friend,” said I to the pilot as at length we arose, “how shall we get out our letters after all?”
“Thass hall right,” replied he, “my cousin, Richard Barrière—she’s cousin of Jean Lafitte too, heem—she’ll was my partner on the s’rimp, an’ she’ll was come hon the light, here, heem, to-mor’, yas, heem.”
“And would you give the letters to Mr. Richard Barrière to-morrow?” I inquired of the lighthouse keeper.