before a large closed entrance. It was a theatre, honey-combed with
gambling-dens. At this morning hour all was still, and the only sign of
life was a knot of little barefoot girls gathered within its narrow
shade, and each carrying an infant relative. Into this place the parson
and M. St.-Ange entered, the little nurses jumping up from the sills to
let them pass in.

A half-hour may have passed. At the end of that time the whole juvenile
company were laying alternate eyes and ears to the chinks, to gather
what they could of an interesting quarrel going on within.

"I did not, saw! I given you no cause of offence, saw! It's not so, saw!
Mister Jools simply mistaken the house, thinkin' it was a
Sabbath-school! No such thing, saw; I _ain't_ bound to bet! Yes, I kin
git out. Yes, without bettin'! I hev a right to my opinion; I reckon I'm
a _white man_, saw! No saw! I on'y said I didn't think you could get the
game on them cards. 'Sno such thing, saw! I do _not_ know how to play! I
wouldn't hev a rascal's money ef I should win it! Shoot, ef you dare!
You can kill me, but you cayn't scare me! No, I shayn't bet! I'll die
first! Yes, saw; Mr. Jools can bet for me if he admires to; I ain't his
mostah."

Here the speaker seemed to direct his words to St.-Ange.

"Saw, I don't understand you, saw. I never said I'd loan you money to
bet for me. I didn't suspicion this from you, saw. No, I won't take any
more lemonade; it's the most notorious stuff I ever drank, saw!"

M. St.-Ange's replies were in _falsetto_ and not without effect; for
presently the parson's indignation and anger began to melt. "Don't ask