twice, they
strained at the cart and set themselves to the road again. They did not
go as fast as when the goad was within reach of their flanks; or rather;
they went more slowly than then, for "fast" was not a word that could
have been applied to their progress before. Yet they went on the whole
steadily, and the "Gee" and "Haw" of the gruff voice behind guided them
straight as surely as bit and rein.

At length it could be seen in the distance that the road turned; and
round this turning another human figure came in sight. Perhaps in all
his life Saul never experienced greater pleasure in meeting another man
than he did now, yet his exterior remained gruff and unperturbed. The
only notice that he appeared to take of his fellow-man was to adjust his
pace so that, as the other came nearer the cart in front, Saul caught up
with it in the rear. At last they met close behind it, and then, as
nature prompted, they both stopped.

The last comer upon the desolate scene was a large, hulking boy. He had
been plodding heavily with a sack upon his back. As he stopped, he set
this upon the ground and wiped his brow.

The boy was French; but Saul, as a native of the province, talked
French about as well as he did English--that is to say, very badly. He
could not have written a word of either.--The conversation went on in
the _patois_ of the district.

"What is in the box?" asked the boy, observing that the carter's eyes
rested uneasily upon it.

"Old Cameron died at our place the day before yesterday," answered Saul,
not with desire to evade, but because it did not seem necessary to
answer more directly.

"What of?" The boy looked at the box with more interest now.

"He died of a fall"--briefly.

The questioner looked at the pinewood box now with considerable
solicitude. "Did his feet swell?" he asked. As Saul did not immediately
assent, he added--"When the old M. Didier died, his feet swelled."

"What do you think of the coffin?" Saul said this eyeing it as if he
were critically considering it as a piece of workmanship.

"M. Didier made a much better one for his little child," replied the
boy.

"If he did, neither Mr. Bates nor me is handy at this sort of work. We
haven't been used to it. It's a rough thing. Touch it. You will see it's
badly made."

He gained his object. The boy fingered the coffin, and although he did
not praise the handiwork, it seemed to Saul that some horrid spell was
broken when human hands ha