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You like the old song from Canadian village, aye? I seeng heem many tam, me." "Who are you?" demanded Josephine. "Me, I am Eleazar, the ol' trap' man. Summers, I work here for Monsieur Dunwodee. Verr' reech man, Monsieur Dunwodee.
"But then, Madame," she added presently, as she turned at the door, with the baby on her arm, "if madame should wish to explore the matter for herself, that is quite possible. This night, perhaps to-morrow, Monsieur Dunwodee himself comes to St. Genevieve. He is to meet the voters of this place. He wishes to speak, to explain.
This very night a band are said to plan an attack upon the house of monsieur! I have met above there Monsieur Clayton, Monsieur Bill Jones, Monsieur le Docteur Jamieson, and others, who ride to the assistance of Monsieur Dunwodee. It is this very night, and I there being no other to come have come to advise.
We dare not start. But believe me, Madame, even so, it is not all misfortune. Suppose we remain; suppose Monsieur Dunwodee comes back? You suffer. He has pity. Pity is then your friend. In that itself are you most strong. Content yourself to be weak and helpless for a time. Not even that brute, that assassin, that criminal, dare offend you now, Madame.
But how long shall we be safe if there are not those to keep this roof protected? The law, Jeanne, the Justice, back of the law, are these things of no interest to you?" "At least, when it comes to roofs," reiterated Jeanne. "Monsieur Dunwodee has pulled down his roof about his ear." "Yes! Yes! Thank God! And so did Samson pull down the pillars about him when he had back his strength!"
That assassin, that brute began, but hesitated. Ah, Hector has not hesitated! Seeing that he would in any case possess myself, would carry me away, I yielded, but with honor and grace, Madame. As between Monsieur Dunwodee and Hector il y a une difference, Madame!" "Je crois qu' oui, Jeanne Je le crois! But it comes to the same thing, eh? You forsake me?"
Genevieve, toward the Ozarks, where once she had traveled true, against her will, but yet through scenes which she now remembered. And always there came up in her mind a question which she found no way to ask. It was Jeanne herself who, either by divination or by blunder, brought up the matter. "Madame remembers that man yonder, that savage, Dunwodee?" she began, apropos of nothing.
"Behold, Madame," she went on, "France itself is not more beautiful than this country. There is richness here, large lands. That young man Hector, he says that none in the country is so rich as Mr. Dunwodee he does not know how rich he is himself. And such romance!" "Jeanne, I forbid you to continue!" The eyes of her mistress had a dangerous sparkle. "I obey, Madame, I am silent. But listen!
This traveler did not turn into the inn, did not pause, indeed, at any of the points of greater interest, but sought out the little cooper shop of Hector Fournier. That worthy greeted him, wiping his hands upon his leathern apron. "Eh, bien, then, it is Monsieur Dunwodee! Come in! Come in! I'll been glad for see you. There was those talk you'll would not came."
"That savage most execrable, who was so unkind to madame and myself but who made love so fiercely? I declare, Madame, I believe it was Monsieur Dunwodee set me listening to Hector! Eh, bien!" They were sitting near the window, looking out upon the bleak prospect of the winter woods. For the time Josephine made no comment, and Jeanne went on. "He has at last, thank heavens, come to justice.
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