"Och! nivir mind the tin days--we won't quarrel about that. Ye're a
swate crayteur," continued he, winking at the woman; "but sure yer
petticoats is mighty short, an' yez want a pair of stockin's bad, too;
but nivir mind--yez stand well upon thim illigant ankles--'dade ye do;
and yez have a purty little futt into the bargain."
"_Que dice_?" (What does he say?) asked the Mexican, speaking to Raoul.
"He is complimenting you on the smallness of your feet," answered the
Frenchman.
The woman was evidently pleased, and commenced cramping up what was in
fact a very small foot into its faded satin slipper.
"Tell me, my dear," continued Chane, "are yez married?"
"_Que dice_?" again asked the woman.
"He wants to know if you are married."
She smiled, waving her forefinger in front of her nose.
Raoul informed the Irishman that this was a negative answer to his
question.
"By my sowl, thin," said Chane, "I wudn't mind marryin' ye meself, an'
joinin' the thribe--that is, if they'll let me off from the hangin'.
Tell her that, Raowl."
As desired, Raoul explained his comrade's last speech, at which the
woman laughed, but said nothing.
"Silence gives consint. But tell her, Raowl, that I won't buy a pig in
a poke: they must first let me off from the hangin', de ye hear?--tell
her that."
"_El senor esta muy alegre_," (The gentleman is very merry), said the
woman; and, picking up her jar, with a smile, she left us.
"I say, Raowl, does she consint?"
"She hasn't made up her mind yet."
"By the holy vistment! thin it's all up wid Murt. The saints won't save
him. Take another dhrap, Raowl!"