r?"

"That officer must have been to Beaumanoir, and is bringing the young
seigneur back to town," remarked Jean, puffing out a long thread of
smoke from his lips.

"Well, it must be something better than smoke, Jean!"--Babet coughed:
she never liked the pipe--"The young chevalier is always one of the last
to give up when they have one of their three days drinking bouts up at
the Chateau. He is going to the bad, I fear--more's the pity! such a
nice, handsome fellow, too!"

"All lies and calumny!" replied Jean, in a heat. "Le Gardeur de
Repentigny is the son of my dear old seigneur. He may get drunk, but it
will be like a gentleman if he does, and not like a carter, Babet, or
like a--"

"Boatman! Jean; but I don't include you--you have never been the worse
for drinking water since I took care of your liquor, Jean!"

"Ay, you are intoxication enough of yourself for me, Babet! Two bright
eyes like yours, a pipe and bitters, with grace before meat, would save
any Christian man in this world." Jean stood up, politely doffing his
red tuque to the gentlemen. Le Gardeur stooped from his horse to grasp
his hand, for Jean had been an old servitor at Tilly, and the young
seigneur was too noble-minded and polite to omit a kindly notice of even
the humblest of his acquaintance.

"Had a busy day, Jean, with the old ferry?" asked Le Gardeur, cheerily.

"No, your Honor, but yesterday I think half the country-side crossed
over to the city on the King's corvee. The men went to work, and the
women followed to look after them, ha! ha!" Jean winked provokingly at
Babet, who took him up sharply.

"And why should not the women go after the men? I trow men are not so
plentiful in New France as they used to be before this weary war began.
It well behooves the women to take good care of all that are left."

"That is true as the Sunday sermon," remarked Jean. "Why, it was only
the other day I heard that great foreign gentleman, who is the guest of
His Excellency the Governor, say, sitting in this very boat, that 'there
are at this time four women to every man in New France!' If that is
true, Babet,--and you know he said it, for you were angry enough,--a
man is a prize indeed, in New France, and women are plenty as eggs at
Easter!"

"The foreign gentleman had much assurance to say it, even if it were
true: he were much better employed picking up weeds and putting them in
his book!" exclaimed Babet, hotly.

"Come! come!" cried Le Gard