voy, what will you do? Send
this good gift?"

"Aw yis, Pierre; I shtand by that from the crown av me head to the sole
av me fut sure. Face like a mornin' in May, and hands like the tunes of
an organ, she has. Spakes wid a look av her eye and a twist av her
purty lips an' swaying body, an' talkin' to you widout a word. Aw
motion--motion--motion; yis, that's it. An' I've seen her an tap av
a hill wid the wind blowin' her hair free, and the yellow buds on the
tree, and the grass green beneath her feet, the world smilin' betune her
and the sun: pictures--pictures, aw yis! Promissory notice on demand is
it anny toime? Seven fut three on me bare toes--but Father o' Sin! when
she calls I come, yis."

"On your oath, Macavoy?" asked Pierre; "by the book av the Mass?"

Macavoy stood up straight till his head scraped the cobwebs between the
rafters, the wild indignation of a child in his eye. "D'ye think I'm a
thafe to stale me own word? Hut! I'll break ye in two, ye wisp o' straw,
if ye doubt me word to a lady. There's me note av hand, and ye shall
have me fist on it, in writin', at Freddy Tarlton's office, wid a blotch
av red an' the Queen's head at the bottom. McGuire!" he said again, and
paused, puffing his lips through his beard.

Pierre looked at him a moment, then waving his fingers idly, said,
"So, my straw-breaker! Then tomorrow morning at ten you will fetch your
wedding-gift. But come so soon now to M'sieu' Tarlton's office, and
we will have it all as you say, with the red seal and the turn of your
fist--yes. Well, well, we travel far in the world, and sometimes we see
strange things, and no two strange things are alike--no; there is only
one Macavoy in the world, there was only one Shon McGann. Shon McGann
was a fine fool, but he did something at last, truly yes: Tim Macavoy,
perhaps, will do something at last on his own hook. Hey, I wonder!" He
felt the muscles of Macavoy's arm musingly, and then laughed up in the
giant's face. "Once I made you a king, my own, and you threw it all
away; now I make you a slave, and we shall see what you will do. Come
along, for M'sieu' Tarlton."

Macavoy dropped a heavy hand on Pierre's shoulder. "'Tis hard to be a
king, Pierre, but 'tis aisy to be a slave for the likes o' her. I'd kiss
her dirty shoe sure!"

As they passed through the door, Pierre said, "Dis done, perhaps, when
all is done, she will sell you for old bones and rags. Then I will buy
you, and I will burn your bones