“I studied it out—I knew old Louis Trudel. Also, I saw ma’m’selle nail the cross to the church door. Two and two together in my mind did it. I didn’t think Paulette Dubois would tell. I warned her.”
“She quarrelled with mademoiselle. It was revenge.
“She might have been less vindictive. She had had good luck herself lately.”
“What good luck had she, M’sieu’?”
Charley told Jo the story of the Notary, the woman, and the child.
Jo made no comment. They relapsed into silence. Arriving at the house, they entered. Jo lighted his pipe, and smoked steadily for a time without speaking. Buried in thought, Charley stood in the doorway looking down at the village. At last he turned.
“Where have you been these weeks past, Jo?”
“To Quebec first, M’sieu’.”
Charley looked curiously at Jo, for there was meaning in his tone. “And where last?”
“To Montreal.”