“Did Francois get better?” said Charley Kennedy, in a voice of great concern.
Charley had entered the store by another door, just as the guide began his story, and had listened to it unobserved with breathless interest.
“Recover! Oh oui, monsieur, he soon got well again.’
“But I lost him for that voyage,” added the guide; “and I lost my tabac for ever.”
“You must take better care of it this time, Louis,” said Peter Mactavish, as he resumed his work.
“That I shall, monsieur,” replied Louis, shouldering his goods and quitting the store, while a short, slim, active little Canadian took his place.
“Now, then, Baptiste,” said Mactavish, “you want a—”
“Stop, stop!” shouted Harry Somerville from his desk. “Here’s an entry in Louis’s account that I can’t make out—30 something or other; what can it have been?”
“How often,” said Mactavish, going up to him with a look of annoyance—“how often have I told you, Mr. Somerville, not to leave an entry half-finished on any account!”
“I didn’t know that I left it so,” said Harry, twisting his features, and scratching his head in great perplexity. “What _can_ it have been? 30—30—not blankets, eh?” (Harry was becoming banteringly bitter.) “He couldn’t have got thirty guns, could he? or thirty knives, or thirty copper kettles?”
“Perhaps it was thirty pounds of tea,” suggested Charley.
“No doubt it was thirty _pipes_,” said Peter Mactavish.
“Oh, that was it!” cried Harry, “that was it! thirty pipes, to be sure. What an ass I am!”
“And pray what is _that_?” said Mactavish, pointing sarcastically to an entry in the previous account—“_5 yards of superfine Annette_. Really, Mr. Somerville, I wish you would pay more attention to your work and less to the conversation.”
“Oh dear!” cried Harry, becoming almost hysterical under the combined effects of chagrin at making so many mistakes, and suppressed merriment at the idea of selling Annettes by the yard. “Oh, dear me—”
Harry could say no more, but stuffed his handkerchief into his mouth and turned away.
“Well, sir,” said the offended Peter, “when you have laughed to your entire satisfaction, we will go on with our work, if you please.”
“All right,” cried Harry, suppressing his feelings with a strong effort; “what next?”