asleep. Something waked me. I got up and heard the finest singing you can guess: not like any I ever heard; a wild, beautiful, shivery sort of thing. I listened for a long time. At last it stopped. Then something slid down the rock. I peeped out, and saw Parpon toddling away."
The Curé stared incredulously, the Avocat took off his glasses and tapped his lips musingly, Armand whistled softly.
"So," said Armand at last, "we have the jewel in the toad’s head. The clever imp hid it all these years—even from you, monsieur le Curé."
"Even from me," said the Curé, smiling. Then, gravely: "It is strange, the angel in the stunted body."
"Are you sure it’s an angel?" said Armand.
"Whoever knew Parpon do any harm?" queried the Curé.
"He has always been kind to the poor," put in the Avocat.
"With the miller’s flour," laughed Medallion: "a pardonable sin." He sent a quizzical look at the Curé.
"Do you remember the words of Parpon’s song?" asked Armand.
"Only a few lines; and those not easy to understand, unless one had an inkling."
"Had you the inkling?"
"Perhaps, monsieur," replied Medallion seriously.
They eyed each other.
"We will have Parpon in after the will is read," said Armand suddenly, looking at the Avocat. The Avocat drew the deed from his pocket. He looked up hesitatingly, and then said to Armand: "You insist on it being read now?"
