act, and invited the wife of Spotted Tiger to join the
breakfast-party. This he did by the express order of Lawrence, for he
would not himself have originated such a piece of condescension. Not
knowing the dialect of that region, however, he failed to convey his
meaning by words and resorted to pantomime. Rubbing his stomach gently
with one hand, he opened his mouth wide, pointed down his throat with
the forefinger of the other hand, and made a jerky reference with his
thumb to the scene of preparations outside.

Madame Tiger declined, however, and pointed to a dark corner, where a
sick child claimed her attention.

"O poor t'ing! what's de matter wid it?" asked Quashy, going forward and
taking one of the child's thin hands in his enormous paw.

The little girl must have been rather pretty when in health, but there
was not much of good looks left at that time, save the splendid black
eyes, the lustre of which seemed rather to have improved with sickness.
The poor thing appeared to know that she had found in the negro a
sympathetic soul, for she not only suffered her hand to remain in his,
but gave vent to a little squeak of contentment.

"Stop! You hold on a bit, Poppity," said Quashy, whose inventive
capacity in the way of endearing terms was great, "I'll fetch de
doctor."

He ran out and presently returned with Lawrence, who shook his head the
moment he set eyes on the child.

"No hope?" inquired Quashy, with solemnity unspeakable on his
countenance.

"Well, I won't say that. While there is life there is hope, but it
would have been more hopeful if I had seen the child a week or two
sooner."

After a careful examination, during which the father, who had come in,
and the mother looked on with quiet patience, and Manuela with some
anxiety, he found that there was still room for hope, but, he said,
turning to Quashy, "she will require the most careful and constant
nursing, and as neither Tiger nor his wife understands what we say, and
Pedro may not be back for some days, it will be difficult to explain to
them what should be done. Can you not speak their dialect even a
little?" he added in Spanish to Manuela.

She shook her head, but said quietly--

"Me will nurse."

"That's very kind of you, and it will really be a charity, for the child
is seriously ill. She is a strangely attractive little thing," he
continued, bending over her couch and stroking her hair gently. "I feel
quite as if I had known