The last comer upon the desolate scene was a large, hulking boy. He had
been plodding heavily with a sack upon his back. As he stopped, he set
this upon the ground and wiped his brow.

The boy was French; but Saul, as a native of the province, talked
French about as well as he did English--that is to say, very badly. He
could not have written a word of either.--The conversation went on in
the _patois_ of the district.

"What is in the box?" asked the boy, observing that the carter's eyes
rested uneasily upon it.

"Old Cameron died at our place the day before yesterday," answered Saul,
not with desire to evade, but because it did not seem necessary to
answer more directly.

"What of?" The boy looked at the box with more interest now.

"He died of a fall"--briefly.

The questioner looked at the pinewood box now with considerable
solicitude. "Did his feet swell?" he asked. As Saul did not immediately
assent, he added--"When the old M. Didier died, his feet swelled."

"What do you think of the coffin?" Saul said this eyeing it as if he
were critically considering it as a piece of workmanship.

"M. Didier made a much better one for his little child," replied the
boy.