pas connais to zancestres?_ Don't you know your
ancestors, my little son!"

"H-the g-hods preserve us!" said Agricola, with a pompous laugh muffled
under his mask, "the queen of the Tchoupitoulas I proudly acknowledge,
and my great-grandfather, Epaminondas Fusilier, lieutenant of dragoons
under Bienville; but,"--he laid his hand upon his heart, and bowed to
the other two figures, whose smaller stature betrayed the gentler
sex--"pardon me, ladies, neither Monks nor _Filles a la Cassette_ grow
on our family tree."

The four maskers at once turned their glance upon the old man in the
domino; but if any retort was intended it gave way as the violins burst
into an agony of laughter. The floor was immediately filled with
waltzers and the four figures disappeared.

"I wonder," murmured Agricola to himself, "if that Dragoon can possibly
be Honore Grandissime."

Wherever those four maskers went there were cries of delight: "Ho, ho,
ho! see there! here! there! a group of first colonists! One of
Iberville's Dragoons! don't you remember great-great grandfather
Fusilier's portrait--the gilded casque and heron plumes? And that one
behind in the fawn-skin leggings and shirt of birds' skins is an Indian
Queen. As sure as sure can be, they are intended for Epaminondas and his
wife, Lufki-Humma!" All, of course, in Louisiana French.

"But why, then, does he not walk with her?"

"Why, because, Simplicity, both of them are men, while the little Monk
on his arm is a lady, as you can see, and so is the masque that has the
arm of the Indian Queen; look at their little hands."

In another part of the room the four were greeted with, "Ha, ha, ha!
well, that is magnificent! But see that Huguenotte Girl on the Indian
Queen's arm! Isn't that fine! Ha, ha! she carries a little trunk. She is
a _Fille a la Cassette!_"

Two partners in a cotillion were speaking in an undertone, behind a fan.

"And you think you know who it is?" asked one.

"Know?" replied the other. "Do I know I have a head on my shoulders? If
that Dragoon is not our cousin Honore Grandissime--well--"

"Honore in mask? he is too sober-sided to do such a thing."

"I tell you it is he! Listen. Yesterday I heard Doctor Charlie Keene
begging him to go, and telling him there were two ladies, strangers,
newly arrived in the city, who would be there, and whom he wished him to
meet. Depend upon it the Dragoon is Honore, Lufki-Humma is Charlie
Keene, and the Monk and the Huguenot