Of all there--priests, soldiers, merchants, workmen, white, black, red, and mixed; men and women, old and young, rich and poor, ugly and beautiful--not one would understand the sweet language you speak." She said nothing, and glancing round, I discovered that she was walking away, her fingers clasped before her, her eyes cast down, and looking profoundly dejected.

Jumping up, I hurried after her.

"Listen!" I said, coming to her side.

"Do you know that there are others in the world like you who would understand your speech ?" "Oh, do I not! Yes--mother told me.

I was young when you died, but, O mother, why did you not tell me more ?" "But where ?" "Oh, do you not think that I would go to them if I knew--that I would ask ?" "Does Nuflo know ?" She shook her head, walking dejectedly along.
"But have you asked him ?" I persisted.
"Have I not! Not once--not a hundred times." Suddenly she paused.