Babet rubbed the silver piece caressingly between her fingers and
upon her cheek. "It is easy to see that handsome officer is from
the Castle," said Babet, "and not from the Palace--and so nice-
looking he is too, with such a sparkle in his eye and a pleasant
smile on his mouth. He is as good as he looks, or I am no judge of
men."

"And you are an excellent judge of men, I know, Babet," he replied,
"or you would never have taken me!" Jean chuckled richly over his
own wit, which Babet nodded lively approval to. "Yes, I know a hawk
from a handsaw," replied Babet, "and a woman who is as wise as that
will never mistake a gentleman, Jean! I have not seen a handsomer
officer than that in seven years!"

"He is a pretty fellow enough, I dare say, Babet; who can he be? He
rides like a field-marshal too, and that gray horse has ginger in
his heels!" remarked Jean, as the officer was riding at a rapid
gallop up the long, white road of Charlebourg. "He is going to
Beaumanoir, belike, to see the Royal Intendant, who has not returned
yet from his hunting party."

"Whither they went three days ago, to enjoy themselves in the chase
and drink themselves blind in the Chateau while everybody else is
summoned to the city to work upon the walls!" replied Babet,
scornfully. "I'll be bound that officer has gone to order the gay
gallants of the Friponne back to the city to take their share of
work with honest people."

"Ah! the Friponne! The Friponne!" ejaculated Jean. "The foul fiend
fly away with the Friponne! My ferryboat is laden every day with