"I don't know what you call. For chop—for cut meat."
"Yes, that's right. And what was the feller with the hat after doing?"
The interesting conversation had a pause of puzzlement.
"I beg your pardon," said Pierre.
Mike, too, was worried for a moment, in his anxiety to hear the tale.
"Yes, yes. What?" he said.
"Ze cook run out at zees man, but he did not jump. He stand and look. Ze cook drop his hand and put the knife with handle down."
"The cl'aver," said Mike.
"What you say? Oh, yes, clever—ver' clever, not afraid. There is nozing more for a little while, then the cook come to the door and he say: 'I have white vife in Liverpool,' and this man——" and again the gesture on either side of the head—"say: 'Come outside.'"
"He is a nigger, is he—a black fellow?"