[Footnote B: That is bad!]

"Who is Malbrouck?" Chrysler enquired.

"Marlborough. That must have been originally enacted in the French camps
that fought him in Flanders. I fancy the soldiers of Montcalm shouting
it at night among their tents here as they held the country against the
English."

They drove along looking about the country and conversing. Chrysler
breathed in the fresh draughts which swept across the wide stretches of
river-view that lay open in bird-like perspective from the crest of the
terraces on which the Dormillière _côte_, or countryside, was perched,
and along which the road ran.

"Come up, my little buds!" the young man cried in French, to a pair of
baby girls who, holding each others' hands, were crowding on the edge of
the ditch-weeds, out of the wheels' way.

"Houp-la!" he cried, helping the laughing little things up one after the
other by their hands, and then whipping forward. "How much, are you
going to give me for this? Do you think we drive people for nothing,
eh?" The children nestled themselves down with beaming faces. "Tell me,
_bidoux_,"[C] he laughed again, "What are you going to give me?"

[Footnote C: Bidoux is a term of endearment for children.]

Both hung their heads. One of them quickly threw her arms up around his
neck and, kissing him, said, "I will pay you this way," and the other
began to follow suit.