doubt not my father regarded himself as the debtor. Again, we
had another distinguished compatriot of yours at our house--General
Lafayette."

"Lafayette!" repeated the marquis. "Ah, that's another matter! A man,
born to rank and condition, voluntarily sinking to the level of the
commonalty! A person of breeding choosing the cause of the rout and
rabble! How was he received?"

"Like a king!" laughed Mauville. "A vast concourse of people assembled
before the river when he embarked on the 'Natchez' for St. Louis."

Muttering something about "_bourgeoisie!--epicier!_" the nobleman
partook of the liquid consolation before him, which seemed to brighten
his spirits.

"If my doctors could see me now! Dolts! Quacks!"

"It's a good joke on them," said Mauville, ironically.

"Isn't it? They forbid me touching stimulants. Said they would be
fatal! Impostors! Frauds! They haven't killed me yet, have they?"

"If so, you are a most agreeable and amiable ghost," returned
Mauville.

"An amiable ghost!" cackled the old man. "Ha! Ha! you must have your
joke! But don't let me have such a ghastly one again. I don't
like"--in a lower tone--"jests about the spirits of the other world."

"What! A well-seasoned materialist like you!"

"An idle prejudice!" answered the marquis. "Only when you compared me
to a ghost"--in a half whisper--"it seemed as though I were one, a
ghost of myself looking back through years of pleasure--years of
pleasure!"

"A pleasant perspective such memories make, I am sure," observed the
land baron.

"Memories," repeated the marquis, wagging his head. "Existence is
first a memory and then a blank. But you have been absent from New
Orleans, Monsieur?"

"I have been north to look after certain properties left me by a
distant relative--peace to his ashes!"

"Only on business?" leered the marquis. "No affair of the heart? You
know the saying: 'Love makes time pass--'"

"'And time makes love pass,'" laughed Mauville, somewhat unnaturally,
his cynicism fraught with a twinge. "Nothing of the kind, I assure
you! But you, Marquis, are not the only exile."

The nobleman raised his brows interrogatively.

"You fled from France; I fled from the ancestral manor. The tenants
claimed the farms were theirs. I attempted to turn them out and--they
turned me out! I might as well have inherited a hornet's nest. It was
a legacy-of hate! The old patroon must have chuckled in his grave! One
night they called with the