"But dere is gold dere,—heaps," said the visitor, in English, and her eyes glistened.
"Only foolish people say that," remarked Claudine, decidedly, "and even if there should be gold there, it would be cursed."
"You not think that," said Nannichette, shrinking back.
"Oh, how stupid all this is!" said Bidiane. "Up the Bay I used to hear this talk of gold. You remember, my aunt?"
Mirabelle Marie's shoulders shook with amusement. "Mon jheu, yes, on the stony Dead Man's Point, where there ain't enough earth to fricasser les cailloux" (fricassee the pebbles); "it's all dug up like graveyards. Come on, Nannichette, tell us ag'in of yer fantome."
Nannichette became suddenly shy, and Mirabelle Marie took it upon herself to be spokeswoman. "She was rockin' her baby, when she heard a divil of a noise. The ceiling gapped at her, jist like you open yer mouth, and a fantome voice says—"
"'Dere is gole in Sleepin' Water Lake,'" interrupted Nannichette, hastily. "'Only women shall dig,—men cannot fine.'"
"An' Nannichette was squshed,—she fell ag'in the floor with her baby."
"And then she ran about to see if she could find some women foolish enough to believe this," said Bidiane, with fine youthful disdain.