You may be an infidel, but you have a head, and you save me money, and you give away your own, and that's good enough for me,"-- he wrung Charley's hand,--"and I don't care who knows it--sacre!" Charley did not answer him, but calmly withdrew his hand, smiled, raised his hat at the lonely cheer the saddler raised, and passed on, scarce conscious of what had happened.

Indeed he was indifferent to it, for he had a matter on his mind this day which bitterly absorbed him.
But the Notary was not indifferent.

"Look there, what do you think of that ?" he asked querulously.

"I am glad to see that Lacasse treats Monsieur well," said the Cure.
"What do you think of that, Monsieur ?" repeated the Notary excitedly to the Seigneur.
The Seigneur put his large gold-handled glass to his eye and looked interestedly after Charley for a moment, then answered: "Well, Dauphin, what ?" "He's been giving Filion Lacasse advice about the old legacy business, and Filion's taken it; and he's got a thousand dollars; and now there's all that fuss.

And four months ago Filion wanted to tar and feather him for being just what he is to-day--an infidel--an infidel!" He was going to say something else, but he did not like the look the Cure turned on him, and he broke off short.
"Do you regret that he gave Lacasse good advice ?" asked the Cure.
"It's taking bread out of other men's mouths." "It put bread into Filion's mouth.