in his look told you that he might
be thirty-eight, though his few grey hairs seemed but to emphasise a
certain youthfulness in him. His eye was full, singularly clear, almost
benign, and yet at one moment it gave the impression of resolution,
at another it suggested the wayward abstraction of the dreamer. He
was well-figured, with a hand of peculiar whiteness, suggesting in
its breadth more the man of action than of meditation. But it was a
contradiction; for, as you saw it rise and fall, you were struck by its
dramatic delicacy; as it rested on the railing of the veranda, by its
latent power. You faced incongruity everywhere. His dress was bizarre,
his face almost classical, the brow clear and strong, the profile good
to the mouth, where there showed a combination of sensuousness and
adventure. Yet in the face there was an illusive sadness, strangely out
of keeping with the long linen coat, frilled shirt, flowered waistcoat,
lavender trousers, boots of enamelled leather, and straw hat with white
linen streamers. It was a whimsical picture.

At the moment that the Cure and Medallion the auctioneer came down the
street together towards the Louis Quinze, talking amiably, this singular
gentleman was throwing out hot pennies, with a large spoon, from a tray
in his hand, calling on the children to gather them, in French which was
not the French of Pontiac--or Quebec; and this refined accent the Cure
was quick to detect, as Monsieur Garon the avocat, standing on the
outskirts of the crowd, had done, some moments before. The stranger
seemed only conscious of his act of liberality and the children before
him. There was a naturalness in his enjoyment which was almost boylike;
a naive sort of exultation possessed him.

He laughed softly to see the children toss the pennies from hand to
hand, blowing to cool them; the riotous yet half-timorous scramble for
them, and burnt fingers thrust into hot, blithe mouths. And when he
saw a fat little lad of five crowded out of the way by his elders, he
stepped down with a quick word of sympathy, put a half-dozen pennies in
the child's pocket, snatched him up and kissed him, and then returned to
the stoop, where were gathered the landlord, the miller, and Monsieur
De la Riviere, the young Seigneur. But the most intent spectator of the
scene was Parpon the dwarf, who was grotesquely crouched upon the wide
ledge of a window.

Tray after tray of pennies was brought out and emptied, till at l