de queen of dis valley, an' no mistake--dat river. When she need fresh ermine for her robe, she throw it over our cotton fields--"
"Yas, an' de black spots, dey are our sorrows. Dat's not a bad resemblance, no."
The speaker looked at his watch.
"Pas' eleven," he said. "Da' 's good luck w'en she start to fall befo' midnight. Oh-h-h! Mais she is one great coquette, yas. She keep you crazy until she get tired wid you, an' den she slip away an' steal her beauty-sleep befo' de clock strike twelve."
"You t'ink she is going to sleep now? Maybe she fool us yet, Adolphe."
"Well, maybe. Mais I have great hope. She begin to nod, and w'en dat happen to a woman or a riv--"
Conversation was suddenly interrupted here by a great crash. The two men started, and, turning, saw an entire section of the improvised embankment fall landward.
Had the stress of the moment been less, they would involuntarily have hastened to the spot, but te