Ray. What does he know of “The Gladiator”?
Grap. “Ze Gladiator”? Sacre! I have know “Ze Gladiator” too much,—ver too much. I have sailed from my own France ever so long ago in ze ship call “Ze Gladiator.”
John Gale. When was that?
Grap. Oh, sacre! ten, twenty-one, two, three years ago.
Ray. Twenty-three years ago?
Grap. Oui, oui! But, sacre? she was vat you call wreck; she all go to ze pieces on ze sands, and I have to make ze passage on ze leetle frail hen-coop.
March. Oh, it’s coming,—it’s coming! Say, old man,—Frenchy,—look here! where was this?
Grap. Parbleu! I do not know ze place. I have sail on ze hen-coop far, far away from ze wreck before I picks myself up.
March. But—O Lord! somebody hold me!—the passengers?—any babies aboard?
Grap. Babies? passengers? Oui, oui! zere vas ze passengers,—ze lady and ze little baby; but ze poor lady die before ze ship all go to ze pieces.