entleman, poor gentleman!" and took
him instantly to their hearts. The men were mystified, but wine and
rhetoric had fired them, and they cheered him--no one knew why. The
Cure, as he turned to leave, with Monsieur Garon, shook his head in
bewilderment; but even he did not smile, for the man's eloquence had
impressed him; and more than once he looked back at the dispersing crowd
and the quaint figure posing on the veranda. The avocat was thinking
deeply, and as, in the dusk, he left the Cure at his own door, all that
he ventured was: "Singular--a most singular person!"

"We shall see, we shall see," said the Cure abstractedly, and they said
good-night.

Medallion joined the Little Chemist in his shop door and watched the
habitants scatter, till only Parpon and the stranger were left, and
these two faced each other, and, without a word, passed into the hotel
together.

"H'm, h'm!" said Medallion into space, drumming the door-jamb with his
fingers; "which is it, my Parpon--a dauphin, or a fool?"

He and the Little Chemist talked long, their eyes upon the window
opposite, inside which Monsieur Valmond and Parpon were in conference.
Up the dusty street wandered fitfully the refrain:

"To a gentleman of the king,
Vive Napoleon!"

And once they dimly saw Monsieur Valmond come to the open window and
stretch out his hand, as if in greeting to the song and the singer.

CHAPTER II

This all happened on a Tuesday, and on Wednesday, and for several days,
Valmond went about making friends. His pockets were always full of
pennies and silver pieces, and he gave them liberally to the children
and to the poor, though, indeed, there were few suffering poor in
Pontiac. All had food enough to keep them from misery, though often it
got no further than sour milk and bread, with a dash of sugar in it
of Sundays, and now and then a little pork and molasses. As for homes,
every man and woman had a house of a kind, with its low, projecting
roof and dormer windows, according to the ability and prosperity of the
owner. These houses were whitewashed, or painted white and red, and had
double glass in winter, after the same measure. There was no question of
warmth, for in snow-time every house was banked up with earth above the
foundations, the cracks and intersections of windows and doors filled
with cloth from the village looms; and wood was for the chopping far
and near. Within these air-tight cubes these simple