e.

Xavier, who overheard, gave a delighted laugh.

"Parbleu, Michie, you have right," he said, "but Michie Gratiot, he say
no. In Nouvelle Orleans we find some."

Nick got to his feet, and if anything he did could have surprised me, I
should have been surprised when he put his arm coaxingly about Xavier's
neck. Xavier himself was surprised and correspondingly delighted.

"Tell me, Xavier," he said, with a look not to be resisted, "do you
think I shall find some beauties there?"

"Beauties!" exclaimed Xavier, "La Nouvelle Orleans--it is the home of
beauty, Michie. They promenade themselves on the levee, they look down
from ze gallerie, mais--"

"But what, Xavier?"

"But, mon Dieu, Michie, they are vair' difficile. They are not like
Englis' beauties, there is the father and the mother, and--the convent."
And Xavier, who had a wen under his eye, laid his finger on it.

"For shame, Xavier," cried Nick; "and you are balked by such things?"

Xavier thought this an exceedingly good joke, and he took his pipe out
of his mouth to laugh the better.

"Me? Mais non, Michie. And yet ze Alcalde, he mek me afraid. Once he put
me in ze calaboose when I tried to climb ze balcon'."

Nick roared.

"I will show you how, Xavier," he said; "as to climbing the balconies,
there is a convenance in it, as in all else. For instance, one must
be daring, and discreet, and nimble, and ready to give the law a
presentable answer, and lacking that, a piastre. And then the fair one
must be a fair one indeed."

"Diable, Michie," cried Xavier, "you are ze mischief."

"Nay," said Nick, "I learned it all and much more from my cousin, Mr.
Ritchie."

Xavier stared at me for an instant, and considering that he knew nothing
of my character, I thought it extremely impolite of him to laugh.
Indeed, he tried to control himself, for some reason standing in awe of
my appearance, and then he burst out into such loud haw-haws that the
crew poked their heads above the cabin hatch.

"Michie Reetchie," said Xavier, and again he burst into laughter that
choked further speech. He controlled himself and laid his finger on his
wen.

"You don't believe it," said Nick, offended.

"Michie Reetchie a gallant!" said Xavier.

"An incurable," said Nick, "an amazingly clever rogue at device when
there is a petticoat in it. Davy, do I do you justice?"

Xavier roared again.

"Quel maitre!" he said.

"Xavier," said Nick, gently taking the tiller out of his