I put my hand to my mouth.
“Nick!” I shouted.
There came for an answer, with the careless and unskilful thrumming of the guitar, the end of the verse:—
"Thine eyes are bright as the stars at night,
Thy cheeks like the rose of the dawning, oh!"
“Hélas!” exclaimed Hippolyte, sadly, “there is no other boat.”
“Nick!” I shouted again, reënforced vociferously by the others.
The music ceased, there came feminine laughter across the water, then Nick's voice, in French that dared everything:—
“Go away and amuse yourselves at the dance. Peste, it is scarce an hour ago I threatened to row ashore and break your heads. Allez vous en, jaloux!”
A scream of delight from Suzanne followed this sally, which was received by Gaspard and Hippolyte with a rattle of sacrés, and—despite our irritation—the Colonel, Monsieur Gratiot, and myself with a burst of involuntary laughter.
“Parbleu,” said the Colonel, choking, “it is a pity to disturb such a one. Gratiot, if it was my boat, I'd delay the departure till morning.”