Part 28 (1/2)

”You have been away for the last five days--”

”Come, now, how did you know that?”

”Everybody knows it. You went away with the Colonel and the soldiers on St. Jean Baptiste's day. Since then M'sieu' the tailor has been ill. I should think Mrs. Flynn would have told you that, M'sieu'.”

”H'm! Would you? Well, Mrs. Flynn has been away too--and you didn't know that! What is the matter with Monsieur Mallard?”

”Some kind of fever. On St. Jean Baptiste's day he was taken ill, and that animal Portugais took care of him all night--I wonder how M'sieu'

can have the creature about! That St. Jean Baptiste's night was an awful night. Have you heard of what happened, M'sieu'? Ghost or no ghost--”

”Come, come, I want to know about the tailor, not of ghosts,”

impatiently interrupted the Seigneur. ”Tiens! M'sieu', the tailor was ill for three days here, and he would let no one except the Cure and Jo Portugais near him. I went myself to clean up and make some broth, but that toad of a Portugais shut the door in my face. The Cure told us to go home and leave M'sieu' with Portugais. He must be very sick to have that black sheep about him--and no doctor either.”

The saddler spoke up now. ”I took him a bottle of good brandy and some b.u.t.termilk-pop and seed cake--I would give him a saddle if he had a horse--he got my thousand dollars for me! Well, he took them, but what do you think? He sent them right off to the shantyman, Gugon, who has a broken leg. Infidel or no, I'm on his side for sure. And G.o.d blesses a cheerful giver, I'm told.”

It was the baker's chance, and he took it. ”I played 'The Heart Bowed Down'-it is English-under his window, two nights ago, and he sent word for me to come and play it again in the kitchen. Ah, that is a good song, 'The Heart Bowed Down.'”

”You'd be a better baker if you fiddled less,” said Madame Dauphin, annoyed at being dropped out of the conversation.

”The soul must be fed, Madame,” rejoined the baker, with asperity.

”Where is the tailor now?” said the Seigneur shortly. ”At Portugais's on Vadrome Mountain. They say he looked like a ghost when he went. Rosalie Evanturel saw him, but she has no tongue in her head this morning,”

added Madame.

The Seigneur moved away. ”Good-bye to you--I am obliged to you, Madame.

Good-bye, Laca.s.se. Come and fiddle to me some night, Cour.”

He bowed to the obsequious three, and then bent his steps towards the post-office. They seemed about to follow him, but he stopped them with a look. The men raised their bonnets-rouges, the woman bowed low, and the Seigneur entered the post-office door.

From the shadows of the office Rosalie had watched the little group before the door of the tailor-shop. She saw the Seigneur coming across the street. Suddenly she flushed deeply, for there came to her mind the song the quack-doctor sang:

”Voila, the day has come When Rosette leaves her home!

With fear she walks in the sun, For Raoul is ninety year, And she not twenty-one.”

As M. Rossignol's figure darkened the doorway, she pretended to be busy behind the wicket, and not to see him. He was not sure, but he thought it quite possible that she had seen him coming, and he put her embarra.s.sment down to shyness. Naturally the poor child was not given the chance every day to receive an offer of marriage from a seigneur.

He had made up his mind that she would be sure to accept him if he asked her a second time.

”Ah, Ma'm'selle Rosalie,” he said gaily, ”what have you to say that you should not come before a magistrate at once?”

”Nothing, if Monsieur Rossignol is to be the magistrate,” she replied, with forced lightness.

”Good!” He looked at her quizzically through his gold-handled gla.s.s. ”I can't frighten you, I see. Well, you must wait a little; you shall be sworn in postmistress in three days.” His voice lowered, became more serious. ”Tell me,” he said, ”do you know what is the matter with the gentleman across the way?” Turning, he looked across to the tailor-shop, as though he expected ”the gentleman” to appear, and he did not see her turn pale. When his look fell on her again, she was self-controlled.

”I do not know, Monsieur.”

”You have been opposite him here these months past--did you ever see anything not--not as it should be?”

”With him, Monsieur? Never.”