"Monsieur Gagnon," said Damase, emphatically, "you also are a hero, that is evident. What a pity that such heroes cannot receive a substantial reward--five dollars, at least, for every life that they save! The life of that Englishman must be worth at least that amount. Let us ask him for it, Monsieur Gagnon." "No, no!" spluttered Bonhomme Gagnon. "I would not for the world. He has lost his eye-glass, and is in a bad temper." "True," said Damase, "and when you took the ladder away he was in a fine rage. It was a pleasure to see him. His bath-tub also was consumed, and his sponge. But the good God let him off easy compared with poor Jean. But tell us, Monsieur Gagnon, is it true Jean has said that the good God did not cause the fire? Is he really an atheist, as they say?" "Not so loud, Damase," whispered Bonhomme Gagnon. "He might hear you. See him over there as he watches his fine house burn to ashes. He is angry, as you may imagine. He has lost money--more than the farm is worth. Insurance? None at all. He was a fool, as Pamphile has said, one with too much confidence in himself and too little in the good God. An atheist? Very likely. Who else would want to build an hotel in St. Placide, to bring tourists to our peaceful parish, to introduce strange fashions, to corrupt the youth, to overturn everything? And he wishes to make a dam across the St. Ange, to build a factory, to create a city. Yes, he would change all the old ways, the good customs, the holy religion, even. An atheist? Very likely. But the good God was against him, as we have seen, and Jean Baptiste is finished. He will be a habitant, like the rest of us, or he will leave the parish. Well, let him go. We were here before he was born, and shall be all right after he is gone. St. Placide has no need of Jean Baptiste."