"
"Yes, and, by the way, Louis, take a lunch in to the lady; fix up
something neat if you can, and let me know when it is ready. All
right, Broussard, a nip of that brandy would help me."
He passed the bottle, and a clean glass across the table, watching me
pour out the liquor with a sarcastic smile.
"You know ze Capitaine before, maybe?" he asked.
"No," I answered, wondering what he could be aiming at, but willing to
give him a free rein. "Only since he tapped me on the head back in the
cellar. However, he has been square with me, and seems to be a pretty
good fellow."
"You think so--hey! Maybe so while he get you with heem. Den he ze
devil. I know, M'sieur. I see heem for long while on ze ocean; zat
whar' you fin' out."
I began eating slowly, exhibiting an indifference I was far from
feeling, yet swiftly determining that no matter how much antagonism
might exist between the two men, I would never trust the Creole. Still
I might use him to advantage; induce him to talk freely under the spur.
"What has he done to you?" I asked carelessly.
"By Gar!--what!" firing up at the recollection. "Get out o' here, yer
damn coon!" turning fiercely upon the steward, and then leaning across
the table, lowering his voice, which yet trembled with passion.
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