"You must be more explicit. And is it the custom of France—or Africa—to make such speeches—so?"
Rideau frowned, and for a moment it appeared that he would have preferred the African custom of choosing his bride; but remembering what he claimed to be, he stood upright, a full-fleshed, crisp-haired figure, with his sensual lips showing too prominently.
"I have the honor to offer you my name and devotion, señorita."
"That is very much better," laughed Miss Castro. "But are you quite sure you would not find domestic happiness grow monotonous? I, at least, have been my own mistress so long that it might not content me. What else have you to offer?"
"An affection that will not weary," was the answer, and the man dramatically laid his hand where he supposed his heart to be.
"And if even that were not enough?"
"All the good things that money can buy, and women love. I shall be a rich man presently."
"You have not won those riches yet; and white men have lost their lives already in the Leopards' country. You should understand me."
Rideau blundered when he resolved to use the strong hand at last.
"There is still something—the safety of your father. It is, as I have once said, forbidden with the heaviest penalty to sell the black man the modern rifle, and Dom Pedro has sold more than this."