"Yes," I retorted, "and so you're here at the gate alone. Now come right along with me! Aren't there enough lives in danger to-night, but you must" -He stopped me in the middle of the street.
"Mine Gott! vhat iss dot you say? Who—who—mine Gott! who iss her life in dtanger? Iss dot—mine Gott! is dot he-ere?" He pointed to Mrs. Fontenette's front window.
I could hardly keep my fist off him. "Hush! you—For one place it's here." I pushed him with my finger.
"Ach!" he exclaimed in infinite relief. "I dt'ought you mean—I—I dt'ought—hmm!—hmm! I am dtired." He leaned on me like a sick child and we went into the cottage parlor. The moment he saw the lounge he lay down upon it, or I should have taken him back into the dining-room.
"Sha'n't I put that net away for you?" I murmured, as I dropped a light covering over him.
But he only hugged the toy closer. "No; I geep it—hmm!—hmm!—I am dtired—"
XX
Both patients, I found, were drowsing; the husband peacefully, the wife with troubled dreams. When the Baron spoke her eyes opened with a look, first eager and then distressful, but closed again. We put the old black woman temporarily into her room and Mrs. Smith hurried to our other neighbors, whence she was to despatch one of their servants to bid Senda come to us at once. But "No battle"—have I already used the proverb? She gave the message to the servant, but it never reached Senda. Somebody forgot. As I sat by Fontenette with ears alert for Senda's coming and was wondering at the unbroken silence, he opened his eyes on me and smiled.
"Ah!" he softly said, "thad was a pleasan' dream!"
"A pleasant dream, was it?"