"And yet," the American interrupted, "and yet it will sometimes strike twice in the same place—if the attraction is sufficient. I have a friend who has a summer home in the Tennessee mountains which was twice struck—three times, nearly. That is the house next door got it the third time. And then they began to investigate, and they found the mountain full of iron—iron convertible into gold."
"Well, and our man of iron, let us hope he may prove always an attraction—for bolts of good fortune!"
"A wish that may come true; if reports be correct, he is rapidly turning into gold," said the American. "I am told that he has found salt in immense deposits on his island—and that he has resumed the work begun just before the war—that of opening up the place."
"Oh, yas. 'Tis true. Over a hundred t'ousand dollars he has already put in—an' as much more ready to drop. Mais it is fairyland! An' me, I was t'inking too—sometimes I t'ink a little myself—I was t'inking dat if—I say if sometime his daughter would be de Comus Queen, not insinuating anything, you know—no allusion to de bird—w'at a fine house-party dey could have now, eh? Dey could invite de royal party, maids of honor, and so fort'—whoever is rich enough to lose so much time—
"T'ink of sailing up de new canal on de barge—"
"An' under de bridge—"
"No, not de bridge. He will never touch dat. He has made a new plan, entering another way. Dat span of de bridge he commenced—it is standing beside de beautiful w'ite marble tomb—to hold his family. His wife she is dere, an' de ol' negroes w'at care for his chil'—dey are laying in one corner, wid also a small monument."
"Are you sure dey are dere?"
"I have seen de monument, I tell you."
"Well, Harold he was always sentimental, if you will. I suppose dat broken bridge is, as he says—it is history, and he needs to keep it before him, not to be too rash. Maybe so. Who can tell? Two boys in de war, it was enough—if he had stopped to t'ink."