Like the spoken language, the language of signs has, in America, infinite fluctuations; everyone, so to say, invents his own. It is a compound of strange and mysterious gestures, a kind of masonic telegraph, the signs of which, varying at will, are only comprehensible to a small number of adepts. The Babbler and his companion were conversing in signs. This singular conversation lasted nearly an hour; it appeared to interest the speakers warmly; so warmly, indeed, that they did not remark, in spite of all the precautions they had taken not to be surprised, two fiery eyes that, from the middle of a tuft of underwood, were fixed upon them with strange intenseness. At length the Babbler, risking the utterance of a few words, said, "I await your good pleasure." "And you shall not wait it long," the other replied. "I depend upon you, Kennedy; for my part, I have fulfilled my promise." "That's well! that's well! We don't require many words to come to an understanding," said Kennedy, shrugging his shoulders; "only you need not have conducted them to so strong a position--it will not be very easy to surprise them." "That's your concern," said the Babbler, with an evil smile. His companion looked at him for a moment with great attention. "Hum," said he; "beware, _compadre_, it is almost always awkward to play a double game with men like us." "I am playing no double game; but I think you and I have known each other a pretty considerable time, Kennedy, have we not?" "What follows?" "What follows? Well! I am not disposed that a thing should happen to me again that has happened before, that's all." "Do you draw back, or are you thinking about betraying us?" "I do not draw back, and I have not the least intention of betraying you, only----" "Only?" the other repeated. "This time I will not give up to you what I have promised till my conditions have been agreed to pretty plainly; if not, no----" "Well, at least that's frank." "People should speak plainly in business affairs," the Babbler observed, shaking his head. "That's true! Well, come, repeat the conditions; I will see if we can accept them." "What's the good of that? You are not the principal chief, are you?" "No:--but--yet----" "You could pledge yourself to nothing--so it's of no use. If Waktehno--he who kills--were here now, it would be quite another thing. He and I should soon understand one another." "Speak then, he is listening to you," said a strong, sonorous voice. There was a movement in the bushes, and the personage who, up to that moment, had remained an invisible hearer of the conversation of the two men, judged, without doubt, that the time to take a part in it was arrived, for, with a bound, he sprang out of the bushes that had concealed him, and placed himself between the speakers. "Oh! oh! you were listening to us, Captain Waktehno, were you?" said the Babbler without being the least discomposed.