Oswald Cray: A Novel

by Mrs. Henry Wood

"I speak of the little black beast that long when she full--" pointing to his finger. "You call them litch--litch--"

"Leeches!" interrupted Mark, with a laugh. "I could not understand, moi; Je pensé, Messeu, que vous--vous--speak of wild beasts."

"Yas," said the doctor complacently, "I thought you understand, sare."

"Bon pour Madame, vous dit, Messeu, the sonsues?"

"Je pense que oui. Mais--but I no say trop before the examen of Madame. I would see the hurt, me. I go to your house, sare, and meet Madame without her robe. I go tomorrow at four of the clock after twelve, if that will arrange you."

"So be it," returned Mark, when he had puzzled out the words "Je dis à ma femme que--que--it was of no use for her to call here, herself; you'd want to see her dishabillayed. Je vous merci, Messeu."

And when they were walking home Mark said to his wife how very glad he was to find he had kept up his French.

[CHAPTER LIV.]

A BELL RINGING OUT AT MIDNIGHT.

I wonder whether you remember that most charming weather we had in the October of that same year 1861. The first fortnight of the month was more lovely than can be imagined of October; it was brilliant and warm as summer.