Dieu_!" he exclaimed, and
looked all about, around, then at last up.

"Ah! _Bon jour_, Mademoiselle!" he said, smiling and taking off his
old fur cap. "You spik also my language, Mademoiselle?"

"_Mais oui_, Monsieur," rejoined Josephine; and addressed him
further in a few sentences on trivial topics. Then, suddenly
resolved, she stepped out of her own room, passed softly down the
stair, out through the wide central hall, and so, having
encountered no one, joined the ancient man on the lawn. It chanced
he had been at labor directly in front of one of the barred lower
windows. He now left his spade and stepped apart, essaying now a
little broken English.

"You seeng my song al_so_, Mademoiselle? You like the old song
from Canadian village, aye? I seeng heem many tam, me."

"Who are you?" demanded Josephine.

"Me, I am Eleazar, the ol' trap' man. Summers, I work here for
Monsieur Dunwodee. Verr' reech man, Monsieur Dunwodee. He say,
'Eleazar, you live here, all right.' When winter come I go back in
the heel, trap ze fur-r, Madame, ze cat, ze h'ottaire, ze meenk,
sometime ze coon, also ze skonk. Pret' soon I'll go h'out for trap
now, Mademoiselle."

"How long have you been here, Eleazar?" she asked.

"Many year, Mademoiselle. In these co'ntree perhaps twent'--thirt'
year, I'll don' know."

"Were you here when the lady lived here?" she demanded of him
directly.

He frowned at this suddenly. "I'll not know what you mean,
Mademoiselle."

"I mean the other lady, the wife of Mr. Dunwody."

"My faith! Monsieur Dunwody he'll live h'alone here, h'all tam."

She affected not to understand him. "How long since she was here,
Eleazar?" she demanded.

"What for you'll talk like those to me? I'll not know nossing,
Mademoiselle. I'll not even know who is Mademoiselle, or why
she'll been here, me. I'll not know for say, whether 'Madame,'
whether 'Mademoiselle.' _Mais_ 'Mademoiselle'--_que je pense_."

She looked about her hastily. "I'm here against my wish, Eleazar.
I want to get away from here as soon as I can."

He drew away in sudden fright. "I'll not know nossing at all, me,"
he reiterated.

"Eleazar, you like money perhaps?"

"Of course, yes. _Tout le monde il aime l'argent_."

"Then listen, Eleazar. Some day we will walk, perhaps. How far is
it to Cape Girardeau, where the French people live?"

"My son Hector he'll live there wance, on Cap' Girardeau. He'll
make the tub, make the