You told the judge I was innocent; and in neither case it don't become a Christian (which I hope I can still say I am one) to 'do evil that good may come.' I muss stay." M.St.-Ange stood up aghast, and for a moment speechless, at this exhibition of moral heroism; but an artifice was presently hit upon.
"_Mais_, Posson Jone'!"-- in his old _falsetto_--"de order--you cannot read it, it is in French--compel you to go hout, sir!" "Is that so ?" cried the parson, bounding up with radiant face--"is that so, Jools ?" The young man nodded, smiling; but, though he smiled, the fountain of his tenderness was opened.

He made the sign of the cross as the parson knelt in prayer, and even whispered "Hail Mary," etc., quite through, twice over.
Morning broke in summer glory upon a cluster of villas behind the city, nestled under live-oaks and magnolias on the banks of a deep bayou, and known as Suburb St.Jean.
With the first beam came the West-Floridian and the Creole out upon the bank below the village.

Upon the parson's arm hung a pair of antique saddle-bags.

Baptiste limped wearily behind; both his eyes were encircled with broad, blue rings, and one cheek-bone bore the official impress of every knuckle of Colossus's left hand.

The "beautiful to take care of somebody" had lost his charge.