I return
you Master Cid, with his fine sentiments, in the bargain. Great as was his
genius, it would seem he was not the man to write all that I find between
the leaves."
"He not write him all! Yes, sair, he shall write him six time more dan
all, if la France a besoin. Que l'envie de ces Anglais se decouvre quand
on parle des beaux genies de la France!"
"I will only say, if the gentleman wrote the whole that is in the book,
and it is as fine as you would make a plain seafaring man believe, he did
wrong not to print it."
"Print!" echoed Francois, opening his eyes, and the volume, by a common
impulse, "Imprime! ha! here is papier of Mam'selle Alide, assurement."
"Take better heed of it then," interrupted the seaman of the shawl. "As
for your Cid, to me it is an useless volume, since it teaches neither the
latitude of a shoal, nor the shape of a coast."
"Sair, it teach de morale; de rock of de passion et les grands mouvements
de l'ame! Oui, Sair; it teach all, un Monsieur vish to know. Tout le monde
read him in la France; en province, comme en ville. If sa Majeste, le
Grand Louis, be not so mal avise, as to chasser Messieurs les Huguenots
from his royaume, I shall go to Paris, to hear le Cid, moi-meme!"
"A good journey to you, Monsieur Cue. We may meet on the road, until which
time I take my departure. The day may come, when we shall converse with a
rolling sea beneath us. Till then, brave cheer!"
"Adieu, Monsieur," returned Francois, bowing with a politeness that had
become too familiar to be forgotten.
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