It was difficult to distinguish in the gathering dusk if the figure were that of man or beast. But the family was not left long in suspense. Baptiste sped his horse away in the direction indicated by Francis, and in a little while he was galloping back with Bibine in his arms; as fretful, sleepy and hungry a baby as ever was.
Loka came trudging on behind Baptiste. He did not wait for explanations; he was too eager to place the child in the arms of its mother. The suspense over, Tontine began to cry; that followed naturally, of course. Through her tears she managed to address Loka, who stood all tattered and disheveled in the doorway: "W'ere you been? Tell me that."
"Bibine an' me," answered Loka, slowly and awkwardly, "we was lonesome--we been take lit' 'broad in de wood."
"You did n' know no betta 'an to take 'way Bibine like that? W'at Ma'ame Laballière mean, anyhow, to sen' me such a objec' like you, I want to know?"
"You go'n' sen' me 'way?" asked Loka, passing her hand in a hopeless fashion over her frowzy hair.
"_Par exemple!_ straight you march back to that ban' w'ere you come from. To give me such a fright like that! _pas possible_."
"Go slow, Tontine; go slow," interposed Baptiste.
"Don' sen' me 'way frum Bibine," entreated the girl, with a note in her voice like a lament.
"To-day," she went on, in her dragging manner, "I want to run 'way bad, an' take to de wood; an' go yonda back to Bayou Choctaw to steal an' lie agin. It's on'y Bibine w'at hole me back. I could n' lef' 'im. I could n' do dat. An' we jis' go take lit' 'broad in de wood, das all, him an' me. Don' sen' me 'way like dat!"
Baptiste led the girl gently away to the far end of the gallery, and spoke soothingly to her. He told her to be good and brave, and he would right the trouble for her. He left her standing there and went back to his wife.
"Tontine," he began, with unusual energy, "you got to listen to the truth--once fo' all." He had evidently determined to profit by his wife's lachrymose and wilted condition to assert his authority.
"I want to say who's masta in this house--it's me," he went on. Tontine did not protest; only clasped the baby a little closer, which encouraged him to proceed.
"You been grind that girl too much. She ent a bad girl--I been watch her close, 'count of the chil'ren; she ent bad. All she want, it's li'le mo' rope. You can't drive a ox with the same gearin' you drive a mule. You got to learn that, Tontine."