s!

The Cure and the Avocat had quieted them at last, and the Cure spoke
sternly now to both women.

"In the presence of death," said he, "have done with your sinful
clatter. Stop quarrelling over a dying man. Let him go in peace--let him
go in peace! If I hear one word more," he added sternly, "I will turn
you both out of the house into the night. I will have the man die in
peace."

Opening the door of the bedroom, the Cure went in and shut the door,
bolting it quietly behind him. The Little Chemist sat by the bedside,
and Kilquhanity lay as still as a babe upon the bed. His eyes were half
closed, for the Little Chemist had given him an opiate to quiet the
terrible pain.

The Cure saw that the end was near. He touched Kilquhanity's arm: "My
son," said he, "look up. You have sinned; you must confess your sins,
and repent."

Kilquhanity looked up at him with dazed but half smiling eyes. "Are they
gone? Are the women gone?" The Cure nodded his head. Kilquhanity's eyes
closed and opened again. "They're gone, thin! Oh, the foine of it, the
foine of it!" he whispered. "So quiet, so aisy, so quiet! Faith, I'll
just be shlaping! I'll be shlaping now."

His eyes closed, but the Cure touched his arm again. "My son," said he,
"look up. Do you thoroughly and earnestly repent you of your sins?"

His eyes opened again. "Yis, father, oh yis! There's been a dale o'
noise--there's been a dale o' noise in the wurruld, father," said he.
"Oh, so quiet, so quiet now! I do be shlaping."

A smile came upon his face. "Oh, the foine of it! I do be
shlaping-shlaping."

And he fell into a noiseless Sleep.

THE BARON OF BEAUGARD

"The Manor House at Beaugard, monsieur? Ah, certainlee, I mind it very
well. It was the first in Quebec, and there are many tales. It had a
chapel and a gallows. Its baron, he had the power of life and death, and
the right of the seigneur--you understand?--which he used only once; and
then what trouble it made for him and the woman, and the barony, and the
parish, and all the country!"

"What is the whole story, Larue?" said Medallion, who had spent months
in the seigneur's company, stalking game, and tales, and legends of the
St. Lawrence.

Larue spoke English very well--his mother was English.

"Mais, I do not know for sure; but the Abbe Frontone, he and I were
snowed up together in that same house which now belongs to the Church,
and in the big fireplace, where we sat on a bench, toasting our