some _grosbec_. I killed three, but I had trouble to fine them, it was
becoming so dark. When I have them I start' to come home; then I got to
pas' at Jean Poquelin's house."

"Ho, ho, ho!" laughed the other, throwing his leg over the arm of his
chair.

"Wait," said the interpreter. "I come along slow, not making some
noises; still, still"--

"And scared," said the smiling one.

"_Mais_, wait. I get all pas' the 'ouse. 'Ah!' I say; 'all right!' Then
I see two thing' before! Hah! I get as cold and humide, and shake like a
leaf. You think it was nothing? There I see, so plain as can be (though
it was making nearly dark), I see Jean--Marie--Po-que-lin walkin' right
in front, and right there beside of him was something like a man--but
not a man--white like paint!--I dropp' on the grass from scared--they
pass'; so sure as I live 'twas the ghos' of Jacques Poquelin, his
brother!"

"Pooh!" said the listener.

"I'll put my han' in the fire," said the interpreter.

"But did you never think," asked the other, "that that might be Jack
Poquelin, as you call him, alive and well, and for some cause hid away
by his brother?"

"But there har' no cause!" said the other, and the entrance of third