“Is that your name?”
“I reckon.”
The master looked at Uncle Ben doubtfully. Was this only another form of the Dobell illusion? “Was your father a Frenchman?” he asked finally.
Uncle Ben paused as if to recall the trifling circumstances of his father's nationality. “No.”
“Your grandfather?”
“I reckon not. At least ye couldn't prove it by me.”
“Was your father or grandfather a voyageur or trapper, or Canadian?”
“They were from Pike County, Mizzoori.”
The master regarded Uncle Ben still dubiously. “But you call yourself Dabney. What makes you think your real name is d'Aubigny?”
“That's the way it uster be writ in letters to me in the States. Hold on. I'll show ye.” He deliberately began to feel in his pockets, finally extracting his old purse from which he produced a crumpled envelope, and carefully smoothing it out, compared it with his signature.