“Well,” I said, “don’t talk about it. Let’s be thankful we were saved.”
“Oh, I won’t say another word, sir, and I wouldn’t have spoken now, only you’re always looking at me in an aggravating manner.”
“Ah, well, Morgan,” I replied; “the powder’s being put out of sight now, and I will not think about it any more.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, as a man lifted a keg; “and if I had my way in the world, it should never be brought out again.”
“And suppose the Indians came?”
“Didn’t I say if I could have my own way in the world, sir? If I did the Indians wouldn’t come, nor the Spaniards neither—you said it was Spaniards didn’t you? I always thought it was Spaniels.”
“Yes; Spaniards. And suppose they come?”
“Bah! Who cares for them? Why, I’d send them flying with a regiment of men armed with spades, and strict orders given only to use the flat side.”
I burst out laughing, for somehow everything seemed bright and happy once more, and in the midst of my mirth a quick, eager voice exclaimed—
“What Mass’ George laugh upon? Tell Pomp. Pomp want laugh too.”