BEL. What man?
BAP. Yo see dat mask over de door? Dat man’s sperrit dogs me all de time;—won’t even let anything stay whar I puts it. Dis very mornin’, I had done put marser Darblee’s slippers in de sun to air an’ wen I went to look fo’ ’em dey uz done gone. (wipes his forehead.)
BEL. A thief, perhaps.
BAP. Naw sah. Dey ain no body kin git in de co’t widout me seein’ ’em.
BEL. Mr. Darblee may not ask for the slippers. (exeunt; enter Darblee and Dominique.)
DOM. And here is the old home again!
DAR. And the old uncle to give you welcome.
DOM. Spain is a pretty far way off, eh uncle?
DAR. But with Lafitte!—You know, Dominique, I have served Lafitte for years and yet have never seen him.
DOM. You have no idea the wonderful man he is!