peep there with good things to eat; he will tell you, sir, of the old
tam and all about the _corvee_ when every one in the _paroisse_ do same
thing; one man feesh, another man beeg chickenne or turkey, another
patackes, another flour from the mill. Why, sir, if it was not that I,
Amable Poussette, was good friend there, I don't know, I don't _know_,
m'sieu, how they get along 'tall! Those Archambault--all bad peep--all
bad together; the old woman, the old man, the girl, the boy--all the
same, sure."

"Who pays them?--You?"

"No, m'sieu; do better things with my monee."

"But they don't believe in the _corvee_, surely?"

"It is like this." And Poussette tapped the other's knee with his fat
fingers, thereby displaying the cornelian ring to much advantage, and
Ringfield saw with satisfaction that on top of the large "C" was cut a
little "S". Had the relations between Poussette and Miss Cordova so
quickly progressed and of what nature were they? The eye of the
Frenchman gave a comprehensive wink. "It is all right, Mr. Ringfield,
all right, sir, Mees Cordova--she put the ring on my finger herself;
she was just fooling last night and I like to be good friends with her;
then she speak for me to Mees Clairville, and so--_vous comprenez_,
sir. But no--I pay no money to these Archambault. It is like this.
There have been Clairville many years at St. Ignace; there have also
been Archambault too a long tam. They say once one was married with
another, but I do not know; I would not ask M'sieu Clairville, and I
would not ask Ma'amselle Pauline. This is a long tam ago, I only speak
of what I hear. I know this, m'sieu--it is not a nice place, not a
nice life for a lady like Mees Clairville. Have you not seen her on
the theatre? You would like to see her at that?"

"No, decidedly not. I have never seen a play. I do not approve of the
life she leads, and trust that when her brother is better she will not
return to her vocation."

"But how--she must make some leetle monee of her own, and it is for why
she goes on the theatre. I have seen her act and sing."

"Can she sing?"

"Ah, you shall hear. She will sing for me, m'sieu, and
bigosh--_excusez_, Mr. Ringfield--I'll get her sing to-night. And if I
do that, will you, sir, do one great thing for me?"

Ringfield smiled. "I won't promise, Poussette. You're a deeper
character than I thought you were. At any rate, I'll do nothing about
a divorce--make sure of th