"Ah," cried Jean François, nodding his head with a mysterious air, "that accounts for many things.... Some day I'll take Rogue, Columbine, and Pierrett, go down among the bayous, and discover why a gentleman of the old régime lost heart. Then, maybe, I'll tell you about it.
"Meantime, my dears, don't you think it would be pretty fine for you to grow up and live in this old home as your very own? Yes?... Monsieur l'Abbé cannot live always, I know. I happen to be slightly acquainted with him. He is very kindly disposed toward you. There's no telling what he might do.
"How would it suit you, Nance Gwyn of the sun-colored hair, to one day be mistress of the mansion?"
"I am not quite certain," said she, for the old home had quite a strong hold upon the imagination of Nance as well as all the rest of Oldmeadow's children, "but I think I should take Columbine and you and the road, first, Jean François."
"First?" exclaimed the pedler, with a humorous twinkle in his eye.
"First," came the very certain reply from the jade; "for some day I mean to have them both."
After a great deal of pleading, bringing to bear everything with which I was acquainted in the art of persuasion, I had succeeded in inducing Jean François to leave his happy caravan for a day and to become friends with our back yard. My family, be it understood, were dining in the country, leaving the premises to my undisputed control from early morning until late afternoon. Our pedler came with trepidation. He scented mischief of a kind which he did not find congenial. He had the greatest aversion to unexpectedly meeting people whom he did not know or did not like. Also he demanded room--the wide spaces of the open. To come about a house, or to enter an enclosure where escape would be fraught with embarrassment, was to him exceedingly painful. His apparent panic reminded me strongly of some timid, uncertainly tamed animal bravely trying to receive the caresses of human beings. Persistence prevailed, however, and he stole around the house, like someone bent upon a hopeless task, and seated himself upon the woodpile.
He looked about him with evident disapproval. Then, removing Pierrett from his mouth, he addressed her with elaborate politeness: