"Well; well, Monsieur the Seigneur,--We are very well. The wife is well, the father, the children also. And how is Madame the Seigneuresse? and yourself? The crisis approaches, does it not? Eh bien, at that point you will find Jean Benoit strong enough. I have a good heart, Monseigneur. Once Xiste Brin said to me, 'Monsieur the Director, you have a good heart.' Deign to accept my professions, monseigneur, of a loyalty the most solemn, of a breast for ever faithful." "I have always accepted your friendship, Benoit, and trusted you," smiled generous Haviland. "See here, Zotique, give Benoit a responsible post.--How different must be our feelings at this priceless service of personal affection from those of our opponents, served only for money." "No money!" blurted Spoon. "Taurieu! An election without money?" Chamilly, with one quiet glance, turned away to L'Honorable. "Without 'tin,'--St. Christophe, I say!--St. Laurent!" "Keep quiet--silence, I pray thee," returned Benoit, and drew his companion aside. "Why did Benoit call himself Director?" Chrysler asked. Haviland and the Honorable smiled. Chamilly answered: "It is a weakness of his ever since he was put on the Board of our Agricultural Society. Do not laugh, unless at the common vanity of mankind." CHAPTER XXV. THE LOW-COUNTRY SUNRISE. "Chacun son gout. Moi, j'aime mieux la nature primitive qui n'est pas a la mode du jour mais que l'on ne pourra jamais demoder ... J'aime ce que j'aime, et vous, vous aimez autre chose. Grand bien vous fasse--je vous admire, Monsieur Tout-le-Monde." --Ben Sulte "I am going to rise before the sun to-morrow. Would you like to come out fishing?" remarked Haviland, cheerfully, on the way home. Chrysler signified assent. At grey dawn, before it was yet quite daybreak, they were on the road. All the houses in the neighbourhood looked asleep. Heavy dews lay upon the grass. The scene was chilly, and a little comfortless and suggestive of turning back to bed. "Where are we going?" the visitor asked, trying to collect his spirits. "To find Bonhomme Le Brun, who superintends the boating interest.--'Bonhomme'--'Good Man'--is a kind of jocular name we give to every simple old fellow. 'Le Brun' is not quite correct either. His real name--or rather the only one extant among the _noms-de-guerre_ of his predecessors, is Vadeboncoeur--'Go willingly,' which the Notaries I suppose would write 'Vadeboncoeur _dit_ Le Brun.'" Notwithstanding the early hour they were not alone on the road. A wrinkled woman, bent almost double, was toiling slowly along with heavy sighs, under a sack of firewood. "See here, madame," Charnilly called out, stepping forward to her, "give me the sack;" which he unloaded from her back and threw over his shoulder. "You are always so good, monseigneur Chamilly," the old woman groaned in a plaintive, palsied voice, without straightening her doubled frame. "Is the Bonhomme at the house?" he enquired.