Madame Saugrain and mademoiselle sprang up from the table and ran to the kitchen, returning with both hands full, and followed by a procession of servants bringing eggs and sugar and butter and flour and poultry and wine—a goodly donation indeed for the Jour des Rois ball, and for which the maskers showed their thanks by dancing la guenille, a truly Saturnalian performance, somewhat shocking to my Eastern notions of propriety. But evidently neither the doctor nor his wife nor mademoiselle saw any harm in it, for they applauded it greatly, after the French fashion, by clapping of hands and crying "Encore!"
Yorke had come in with the other servants from the kitchen, and it was a sight to see his great eyes rolling in ecstasy and his white teeth displayed from ear to ear as he watched the mummers, and I was not surprised to see him follow them like one bewitched as they went up toward the Rue des Granges to Paschal Cerré's house, singing:
"Bon soir, le maître et la maîtresse,
Et tout le monde du logis!"
"You will be having Yorke dancing la guenille," I said to the captain, "when he gets back to Kentucky."
"An he does," answered the captain, with a grim smile, "I will bastinado him." For I think the captain did not like some of the figures of la guenille any better than did I.
CHAPTER XI
CHOISSEZ LE ROI
"She moves a goddess and she looks a queen."