Uncle Raoul was by no means the least important personage at D'Haberville manor. Since his retirement from the army, the captain, whom military service kept much away from home, left the management of affairs entirely in his hands. His occupations were very numerous. He kept account of the receipts and expenditures of the family; he collected the rents of the seigniory; he managed the farm; he betook himself every Sunday, rain or shine, to mass to receive the Easter water in the seigneur's absence; and, among other minor duties which devolved upon him, he presented for baptism all the first-born children of the tenants of the estate--an honor which belonged to his elder brother, but of which the latter had freed himself in favor of Raoul. A little incident may be cited to show Uncle Raoul's importance. Let us imagine ourselves in the month of November, when the seigneurial rents fall due. Uncle Raoul, with a long quill pen behind his ear, sits in a great armchair as on a throne. Beside him is a table covered with green cloth, and on this table rests his sword. As the tenant appears, he assumes an expression of severity, which does not greatly alarm the debtor, for the Seigneur D'Haberville is an indulgent landlord, and his tenants pay when they please. But Uncle Raoul is more deeply concerned for the form than for the substance; the appearance of power pleases him even as power itself. He will have everything done with due ceremony. "How do you do, my--my--lieutenant?" says the _censitaire_, accustomed to call him uncle behind his back. "Very well. And thyself? What wilt thou?" replies Uncle Raoul, with an air of great importance. "I have come to pay the rent, my--my lieutenant; but the times are so hard that I have no money," says Jean Baptiste, ducking his head penitently. "_Nescio vos!_" exclaims Uncle Raoul in a sonorous voice; "_reddite quæ sunt Cæsaris Cæsari_." "That's fine what you say, my--my captain, so fine that I can't understand it at all," murmurs the _censitaire_. "It's Latin, blockhead!" exclaims Uncle Raoul, "and this Latin means, pay your lawful rents to the Seigneur D'Haberville, on pain of being taken before the King's courts and of being condemned in first and second instance to pay all expense, damages, claims, and costs." "It would go hard with me," murmurs the _censitaire_. "Heavens, you may well say so!" exclaims Uncle Raoul, raising his eyes to the ceiling. "I know very well my--my seigneur, that your Latin threatens me with all these punishments; but I had the misfortune to lose my filly of last spring." "What, you rascal! On account of having lost a wretched brute of six months old you wish to evade the seigneurial claims, which have been established by your sovereign on a foundation as enduring as yonder mountains. _Quos ego ...!_" "I believe," murmurs the _habitant_ to himself, "that he is speaking Indian to frighten me."