th his daughter, for he had lost the gift of work,
and he desired peace after war. In other words, he had that fatal trait
of those who strive to make the world better by talk and violence, the
vice of indolence.

But when Jean Jacques and his handsome bride started for St. Saviour's,
the new father-in-law did not despair of following soon. He would
greatly have enjoyed the festivities which, after all, did follow the
home-coming of Jean Jacques Barbille and his Spanische; for while they
lacked enthusiasm because Carmen was a foreigner, the romance of the
story gave the whole proceedings a spirit and interest which spread into
adjoining parishes: so that people came to mass from forty miles away to
see the pair who had been saved from the sea.

And when the Quebec newspapers found their way into the parish, with a
thrilling account of the last hours of the Antoine; and of Jean Jacques'
chivalrous act in refusing to enter a boat to save himself, though he
was such a bad swimmer and was in danger of cramp; and how he sang Bal
chez Boule while the men worked at the pumps; they permitted the apres
noces of M'sieu' and Madame Jean Jacques Barbille to be as brilliant
as could be, with the help of lively improvisation. Even speech-making
occurred again in an address of welcome some days later. This was
followed by a feast of Spanish cakes and meats made by the hands of
Carmen Dolores, "the lady saved from the sea"--as they called her; not
knowing that she had saved herself, and saved Jean Jacques as well. It
was not quite to Jean Jacques' credit that he did not set this error
right, and tell the world the whole exact truth.

CHAPTER IV. THIRTEEN YEARS AFTER AND THE CLERK OF THE COURT TELLS A
STORY

It was hard to say which was the more important person in the parish,
the New Cure or M'sieu' Jean Jacques Barbille. When the Old Cure was
alive Jean Jacques was a lesser light, and he accepted his degree of
illumination with content. But when Pere Langon was gathered to his
fathers, and thousands had turned away from the graveyard, where he who
had baptised them, confirmed them, blessed them, comforted them, and
firmly led them was laid to rest, they did not turn at once to his
successor with confidence and affection. The new cure, M. Savry, was
young; the Old Cure had lived to be eighty-five, bearing wherever he
went a lamp of wisdom at which the people lighted their small souls. The
New Cure could command their obedienc