And the end of it all, and the heart of it all, was in the last few lines, clear of allegory:
"And the wheel goes round in the village mill,
And the little brown diver he tells the grain …
And the grand Seigneur he has gone to meet
The little good Folk of the Scarlet Hills!"
At first, all were so impressed by the strange power of Parpon’s voice, that they were hardly conscious of the story he was telling. But when he sang of the Seigneur they began to read his parable. Their hearts throbbed painfully.
As the last notes died away Armand got up, and standing by the table, said: "Parpon, you saved my father’s life once?"
Parpon did not answer.
"Will you not tell him, my son?" said the Curé, rising. Still Parpon was silent.
"The son of your grand Seigneur asks you a question, Parpon," said Medallion soothingly.
"Oh, my grand Seigneur!" said Parpon, throwing up his hands. "Once he said to me, ‘Come, my brown diver, and live with me.’ But I said, ‘No, I am not fit. I will never go to you at the House with the Tall Porch.’ And I made him promise that he would never tell of it. And so I have lived sometimes with old Farette." Then he laughed strangely again, and sent a furtive look at Armand.
"Parpon," said Armand gently, "our grand Seigneur has left you the Bois Noir for your own. So the hills and the Rock of Red Pigeons are for you—and the little good people, if you like."
Parpon, with fiery eyes, gathered himself up with a quick movement, then broke out: "Oh, my grand
