“Mam’selle Alide, voici de l’eau de la fontaine,” said the valet; “mais Monsieur votre oncle s’esi couche, et il a mis la clef de la cave an vin dessous son oreiller.  Ma foi, ce n’est pas facile d’avoir du bon vin du tout, en Amerique, mais apres que Monsieur le maire s’est couche, c’est toujours impossible; voila!”

“N’importe, mon cher; le capitaine va partir, et il n’a plus soif.”

“Dere is assez de jin,” continued the valet, who felt for the captain’s disappointment, “mais, Monsieur Loodle, have du gout, an’ he n’aime pas so strong liqueur.”

“He has swallowed already more than was necessary for one occasion,” said Alida, smiling on her admirer, in a manner that left him doubtful whether he ought most to repine, or to rejoice.  “Thank you, good Francois; your duty for the night shall end with lighting the captain to the door.”

Then saluting the young commander, in a manner that would not admit of denial, la belle Barberie dismissed her lover and the valet, together.

“You have a pleasant office, Monsieur Francois,” said the former, as he was lighted to the outer door of the pavilion; “it is one that many a gallant gentleman would envy.”

“Oui, Sair.  It be grand plaisir to serve Mam’selle Alide.  Je porte de fan, de book, mais quant an vin, Monsieur le Capitaine, parole d’honneur, c’est toujours impossible apres que l’Aldermain s’est couche.”

“Ay—­the book—­I think you had the agreeable duty, to-day, of carrying the book of la Belle?”

“Vraiment, oui!  ’Twas ouvrage de Monsieur Pierre Corneille.  On pretend, que Monsieur Shak-a-spear en a emprunte d’assez beaux sentiments!”

“And the paper between the leaves?—­you were charged also with that note, good Francois?”

The valet paused, shrugged his shoulders, and aid one of his long yellow fingers on the plane of an enormous aquiline nose, while he seemed to muse.  Then shaking his head perpendicularly, he preceded the captain, as before, muttering, as usual, half in French and half in English,—­

“For le papier, I know, rien du tout; c’est bien possible, parceque, voyez vous, Monsieur le Capitaine, Mam’selle Alide did say, prenez-y garde; but I no see him, depuis.  Je suppose ’twas beaux compliments ecrits on de vers of M. Pierre Corneille.  Quel genie que celui de cet homme la!—­n’est ce pas, Monsieur?”

“It is of no consequence, good Francois,” said Ludlow, slipping a guinea into the hands of the valet.  “If you should ever discover what became of that paper, however, you will oblige me by letting me know.  Good night; mes devoirs a la Belle!”

“Bon soir, Monsieur le Capitaine; c’est un brave Monsieur que celui-la, et de tres bonne famille!  Il n’a pas de si grandes terres, que Monsieur le Patteroon, pourtant, on dit, qu’il doit avoir de jolies maisons et assez de rentes publiques!  J’aime a servir un si genereux et loyal maitre, mais, malheureusement, il est marin!  M. de Barberie n’avait pas trop d’amitie pour les gens de cette profession la.”