o was such a figure at Vilray.

The opening for his purpose did not escape M. Fille. He had been at a
loss to begin, but here was a natural opportunity for him.

"Well, good advice is not always a present, but I should like mine to be
taken as such, monsieur," he said a little oracularly.

"Oh, advice--to give me advice--that's why you've brought me in here,
when I've so much to do I can't breathe! Time is money with me, old
'un."

"Mine is advice which may be money in your pocket, monsieur," remarked
the Clerk of the Court with meaning. "Money saved is money earned."

"How do you mean to save me money--by getting the Judge to give
decisions in my favour? That would be money in my pocket for sure. The
Court has been running against my interests this year. When I think
I was never so right in my life--bang goes the judgment of the Court
against me, and into my pocket goes my hand. I don't only need to save
money, I need to make it; so if you can help me in that way I'm your
man, M'sieu' la Fillette?"

The little man bristled at the misuse of his name, and he flushed
slightly also; but there was always something engaging in the
pleasure-loving master-carpenter. He had such an eloquent and warm
temperament, the atmosphere of his personality was so genial, that
his impertinence was insulated. Certainly the master-carpenter was not
unpopular, and people could not easily resist the grip of his physical
influence, while mentally he was far indeed from being deficient. He
looked as little like a villain as a man could, and yet--and yet--a
nature like that of George Masson (even the little Clerk could see that)
was not capable of being true beyond the minute in which he took his
oath of fidelity. While the fit of willingness was on him he would be
true; yet in reality there was no truth at all--only self-indulgence
unmarked by duty or honour.

"Give me a judgment for defamation of character. Give me a thousand
dollars or so for that, m'sieu', and you'll do a good turn to a
deserving fellow-citizen and admirer--one little thousand, that's all,
m'sieu'. Then I'll dance at your wedding and weep at your tomb--so
there!"

How easy he made the way for the little Clerk of the Court! "Defamation
of character"--could there possibly be a better opening for what he had
promised Judge Carcasson he would say!

"Ah, Monsieur Masson," very officially and decorously replied M. Fille,
"but is it defamation of character? If the thing i