ed her presence there very
indifferently. He went to the _garde manger_ to stay his hunger, much
as he had done on the occasion of Therese's visit; talked in grum
abrupt utterances to his father, and disappeared into the adjoining
room where Fanny could hear him and occasionally see him polishing and
oiling his cherished rifle.

Morico, more accustomed to foreign sounds in the woods than she, was
the first to detect the approach of Gregoire, whom he went out
hurriedly to meet, glad of the relief from the supposed necessity of
entertaining his puzzling visitor. When he was fairly out of the room,
she arose quickly, approached the table and reaching for the flask of
liquor, thrust it hastily into her pocket, then went to join him. At
the moment that Gregoire came up, Jocint issued from a side door and
stood looking at the group.

"Well, Mrs. Hosma, yere I am. I reckon you was tired waitin'. The
buggy's yonda in the road."

He shook hands cordially with Morico saying something to him in French
which made the old man laugh heartily.

"Why didn't David come? I thought he said he was coming; that's the
way he does," said Fanny complainingly.

"That's a po' compliment to me, Mrs. Hosrma. Can't you stan' my
company for that li'le distance?" returned Gregoire gallantly. "Mr.
Hosma had a good deal to do w'en he got back, that's w'y he sent me.
An' we betta hurry up if we expec' to git any suppa' to-night. Like as
not you'll fine your kitchen cleaned out."

Fanny looked her inquiry for his meaning.

"Why, don't you know this is 'Tous-saint' eve--w'en the dead git out
o' their graves an' walk about? You wouldn't ketch a nigga out o' his
cabin to-night afta dark to save his soul. They all gittin' ready now
to hustle back to the quartas."

"That's nonsense," said Fanny, drawing on her gloves, "you ought to
have more sense than to repeat such things."

Gregoire laughed, looking surprised at her unusual energy of speech
and manner. Then he turned to Jocint, whose presence he had thus far
ignored, and asked in a peremptory tone:

"W'at did Woodson say 'bout watchin' at the mill to-night? Did you ask
him like I tole you?"

"Yaas, me ax um: ee' low ee an' goin'. Say how Sylveste d'wan' watch
lak alluz. Say ee an' goin'. Me don' blem 'im neida, don' ketch me
out de 'ouse night lak dat fu no man."

"_Sacre imbecile_," muttered Gregoire, between his teeth, and
vouchsafed him no other answer, but nodded to Morico and turned aw