"
"What is it, Babet?" Jean was, after all, more curious about his
dinner than about the fair lady.
"Oh, something you like--that is a wife's secret: keep the stomach
of a man warm, and his heart will never grow cold. What say you to
fried eels?"
"Bravo!" cried the gay old boatman, as he sang,
"'Ah! ah! ah! frit a l'huile,
Frit au beurre et a l'ognon!'"
and the jolly couple danced into their little cottage--no king and
queen in Christendom half so happy as they.
CHAPTER X.
AMELIE DE REPENTIGNY.
The town house of the Lady de Tilly stood on the upper part of the
Place d'Armes, a broad, roughly-paved square. The Chateau of St.
Louis, with its massive buildings and high, peaked roofs, filled one
side of the square. On the other side, embowered in ancient trees
that had escaped the axe of Champlain's hardy followers, stood the
old-fashioned Monastery of the Recollets, with its high belfry and
broad shady porch, where the monks in gray gowns and sandals sat in
summer, reading their breviaries or exchanging salutations with the
passers-by, who always had a kind greeting for the brothers of St.
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