"Eh--h!" said the Frenchman during the telling. It was a prolonged
syllable, denoting meditative astonishment, and it brought another
listener, for the wife came and stood by her husband, who interpreted
the story to her, and shortly a girl of thirteen also drew near and
stood listening to her father's interpretation. Trenholme began to
wonder whether the elder listeners were placing any confidence in his
word; but the doubt was probably in his mind only, for an honest man
does not estimate the subtle force of his own honesty.

Turrif and his wife listened to all that was said, and looked at each
other, and looked at him, and asked him a good many questions. They were
neither of them hasty, but, as the woman's manner was the more
vivacious, so her questions, when translated, showed a somewhat quicker
wit. When all was said, like wise people, they pronounced no sentence,
either upon Trenholme's actions or upon those of the creature that had
inhabited the coffin; but they remarked that if the carter had committed
no evil he would not have run away. They said that they had some
knowledge of this man, whom they called "Monsieur Saul," and that he was
a fellow of little worth. They agreed that Turrif should go with
Trenholme, as requested, to bring the man to book.

On crossing the threshold of the house Trenholme had come at once into a
large, long room, which composed the whole lower flat of the dwelling,
as appeared from the windows on both sides and from the fact that the
staircase went up from one end of it. It was a comfortable, well-warmed
room, containing evidences of all the various industries of the family,
from the harness that hung on the wall and the basket of carded wool by
the spinning-wheel, to the bucket of cow's mash that stood warming by
the stove at the foot of the baby's cradle. At the far end a large