ise, showed a herculean breast; hard and
grizzled. There was no fierceness or defiance in his look, no harsh
ungentleness, no symptom of his unlawful life or violent temper; but
rather a peaceful and peaceable fearlessness. Across the whole face, not
marked in one or another feature, but as it were laid softly upon the
countenance like an almost imperceptible veil, was the imprint of some
great grief. A careless eye might easily overlook it, but, once seen,
there it hung--faint, but unmistakable.

The Governor bowed.

"_Parlez-vous francais_?" asked the figure.

"I would rather talk English, if you can do so," said the Governor.

"My name, Jean Poquelin."

"How can I serve you, Mr. Poquelin?"

"My 'ouse is yond'; _dans le marais la-bas_."

The Governor bowed.

"Dat _marais_ billong to me."

"Yes, sir."

"To me; Jean Poquelin; I hown 'im meself."

"Well, sir?"

"He don't billong to you; I get him from me father."

"That is perfectly true, Mr. Poquelin, as far as I am aware."

"You want to make strit pass yond'?"

"I do not know, sir; it is quite probable; but the city will indemnify
you for any loss you may suffer--you will get paid, you understand."

"Strit can't pass dare."

"You will have to see the municipal authorities about that, Mr.
Poquelin."

A bitter smile came upon the old man's face:

"_Pardon, Monsieur_, you is not _le Gouverneur_?"

"Yes."

"_Mais_, yes. You har _le Gouverneur_--yes. Veh-well. I come to you. I
tell you, strit can't pass at me 'ouse."

"But you will have to see"--

"I come to you. You is _le Gouverneur_. I know not the new laws. I ham a
Fr-r-rench-a-man! Fr-rench-a-man have something _aller au contraire_--he
come at his _Gouverneur_. I come at you. If me not had been bought from
me king like _bossals_ in the hold time, ze king gof--France
would-a-show _Monsieur le Gouverneur_ to take care his men to make strit
in right places. _Mais_, I know; we billong to _Monsieur le President_.
I want you do somesin for me, eh?"

"What is it?" asked the patient Governor.

"I want you tell _Monsieur le President_,
strit--can't--pass--at--me--'ouse."

"Have a chair, Mr. Poquelin;" but the old man did not stir. The Governor
took a quill and wrote a line to a city official, introducing Mr.
Poquelin, and asking for him every possible courtesy. He handed it to
him, instructing him where to present it.

"Mr. Poquelin," he said with a conciliatory smile, "tell me, is it your