casins were striking a hard surface. He looked
down to see that the floor of the lodge was covered with flat stones.
Auguste and the others followed Grandpapa across the length of the floor
to a stone hearth so big a man could stand inside it.

They passed three long, cloth-covered platforms raised as high above the
floor as the sleeping platforms in Sauk and Fox summer lodges.

"Those are tables," Pierre said. Auguste remembered the word from a book
of words and pictures Pere Isaac had shown him. On the tables lay a
confusion of shiny objects.

A man standing by the hearth, who appeared as old as Elysee, stepped
forward and bowed. He had a round, bright red nose and white whiskers
that stood out on either side of his face.

"This is Guichard, our majordomo," said Pierre.

"Ma-ja domo," repeated Auguste.

"Guichard came over from France with us thirty years ago."

Guichard said, "I greet you, Auguste." Auguste was amazed to hear him
speak in the Sauk language. He spoke with a lisp, though, and Auguste
noticed when he opened his mouth that he had no front teeth.

Pierre clapped Guichard on the shoulder. "I do not know how he does
these things, but he always surprises us with what he has learned. And
by his care for us in so many ways."

Guichard stepped back with another bow, and Pierre turned to a short man
and a plump woman also standing before the hearth. The woman's full lips
curved in a smile of greeting for Pierre; then she plucked at her
skirts, lifting them a bit, and bent her knees and ducked her head.

"This is Marchette Perrault," Pierre said, and Auguste noticed that his
normally pale face was flushed. "She reigns over our kitchen." Auguste
did not need to rely on his special sense to see that there was a loving
secret between Marchette and his father.

The man standing beside Marchette, short and powerful-looking, with a
bristling brown beard, was staring at Pierre with hatred in his face,
his eyes narrowed. His mouth was invisible in his beard, but Auguste
knew that his lips were pressed together, his teeth clenched. He also
knew that this short man was as strong as a bull buffalo.

The look the brown-bearded man gave Pierre frightened Auguste, and he
wondered if he was the only one who could see it.

"Armand Perrault, here, is the overseer of our estate," Pierre said,
apparently oblivious of the man's expression. "He makes the crops
flourish, the trees bear fruit and the cattle grow fat. He a