s in a
moment. Zotique pretends to play,--but he is calculating the seconds.
Presently he says, "Monsieur le Cure, you and I are too good players.
Let Mouton take my place, and do you play against Benoit and my cousin,"
and without waiting for any answer he flies out to the kitchen, and
cries sharply: "Mouton, Messire wants you!" adding, "Quick, quick, tete
de Mouton!" Mouton rushes upstairs, brushing his mouth. There he stands
before us, solid as the image of tallow; but his mouth was as black as
an oven's, _and his features indistinguishable with ink_."

The circle, all eagerly listening, burst forth:

"How did Zotique do it?" they cried.

"Voila the mystery."

"What was done to Mouton?"

"Pere Galibert boiled him down into tapers, and sold him to the
congregation."

The old man put his pipe, which had gone out, once more to his lips and
nonchalantly repeated the operation of lighting it between his hands.

Spoon, his low felt hat tipped over his eyes made Josephte blush crimson
with his attentions. Her glances and smiles were to Francois.

Chrysler as he watched her, saw that it was she whose spiritual
expression had attracted him at church. Near at hand, he took notes of
her appearance. She was of modest face, regular and handsome in
features, though not striking, and her cheek wore just a suggestion of
color. Dressed in black, her apparel and demeanor were quietly perfect.

The fine sweep of view from the gallery across the water attracted him,
and his eyes rested upon the leafy monarchs shadowing the river-bank
before them.

"Your house is well placed," he said in admiration.

"Yes, Monsieur," replied the old man, simply, and he pointed out the
various parishes whose spires could be descried across the water.

Thus conversing and observing, the Ontarian spent an instructive and
delightful hour. When he rose to go, calm and rested, the hospitality
again became profuse. "The gentleman will not walk!" shrilly protested
highly-pleased mater familias. "Go Francois," turning to young Le Brun:
"row Monsieur to the Manoir, you and Mr. Cuiller. Take the rose
_chaloupe_, and Josephte shall go too."

Chrysler made a very admirable guest. He would have struck you as a
fine, large man, of kindly face, and influential manner, and people
pressed upon him their best wherever he went. "You speak our tongue,
sir," said the grandfather, "That is a great thing. I have often thought
that if all the people of the earth