"He about saved your life a little while ago. Does that count for anything?" The words edged their way through tightly closed lips. "Yes--for me; that is why I brought him home--but he has not saved Mignon's life. He would wreck it. She will marry somebody else and he will marry somebody else. There are too many thick-heads along the coast now. I decide to steer clear of them." Louis, who now that his human-ambulance trip was over, had returned to the Marmouset, stood wondering. What had taken place in his absence was a mystery. He had, after depositing his burden, taken Mignon to Pierre and sat her down by the kitchen fire, where he had left her crying softly to herself. Lemois waited until Louis had found a seat and went on: "You, gentlemen, are my friends, and so I will explain to you what I would not explain to others. You wonder at what I have just said and done. I try to do my duty--that is my religion, and my only religion. I have tried to do it to-night. With your help I have done what I could to save my friend's property, because she was away and helpless. She has now left to her some of the things she loved. So it is with this girl. Ten years ago I found her, a child of eight, crying in the street. For months she had gotten up at daylight, had washed and dressed her two baby brothers, cooked their breakfast, cleaned house, and tucked in her bedridden mother; but, try as she would, she was late for school--not once, but several times. This was against the rules, and when the prizes and diplomas were given out, all she got was a scolding. Later on she was dismissed. Because she had no other place to go, and because I had no child of my own, I took her home with me. As I assumed all responsibility for her, and she has no one but me, I shall carry it out to the end, exactly as if she were my daughter. My own daughter should not and would not marry a fisherman, neither shall Mignon. Madame la Marquise de la Caux is in Paris, and I do what I can to look after her belongings. Madame, Mignon's mother, is in heaven, and the remnant of her people God knows where, and so I do what I can to look after their child." "But has the girl no say in the matter?" broke out Louis angrily. "You are not to live with him--she is."