casse, who ran out
from a group before the tavern, and, standing in front of him with
outstretched hand, said loudly:

"M'sieu', it's all right. What you said done it, sure! I'm a thousand
dollars richer to-day. You may be an infidel, but you have a head, and
you save me money, and you give away your own, and that's good enough
for me,"--he wrung Charley's hand,--"and I don't care who knows
it--sacre!"

Charley did not answer him, but calmly withdrew his hand, smiled, raised
his hat at the lonely cheer the saddler raised, and passed on, scarce
conscious of what had happened. Indeed he was indifferent to it, for he
had a matter on his mind this day which bitterly absorbed him.

But the Notary was not indifferent. "Look there, what do you think
of that?" he asked querulously. "I am glad to see that Lacasse treats
Monsieur well," said the Cure.

"What do you think of that, Monsieur?" repeated the Notary excitedly to
the Seigneur.

The Seigneur put his large gold-handled glass to his eye and looked
interestedly after Charley for a moment, then answered: "Well, Dauphin,
what?"

"He's been giving Filion Lacasse advice about the old legacy business,
and Filion's taken it; and he's got a thousand dollars; and now there's
all that fuss. And four months ago Filion wanted to tar and feather him
for being just what he is to-day--an infidel--an infidel!"

He was going to say something else, but he did not like the look the
Cure turned on him, and he broke off short.

"Do you regret that he gave Lacasse good advice?" asked the Cure.

"It's taking bread out of other men's mouths."

"It put bread into Filion's mouth. Did you ever give Lacasse advice? The
truth now, Dauphin!" said the Seigneur drily.

"Yes, Monsieur, and sound advice too, within the law-precedent and code
and every legal fact behind." The Seigneur was a man of laconic speech.
"Tut, tut, Dauphin; precedent and code and legal fact are only good when
there's brain behind 'em. The tailor yonder has brains."

"Ah, but what does he know about the law?" answered Dauphin, with
acrimonious voice but insinuating manner, for he loved to stand well
with the Seigneur.

"Enough for the saddler evidently," sharply rejoined the Seigneur.

Dauphin was fighting for his life, as it were. His back was to the wall.
If this man was to be allowed to advise the habitants of Chaudiere on
their disputes and "going to law," where would his own prestige be? His
vanity had been de