I looked at him puzzled; able to make nothing out of it.

St.
Croix wrinkled his brow over it with the same result.

It was no good handing it to Marie, therefore.
"You do not understand ?" the stranger continued, as he put the scrap of paper back in his pouch.
"No," I answered, shaking my head.

We had all risen out of respect to him, and were standing a little group about him.
"Just so; it is all right then," he answered, looking at us as it seemed to me with grave good-nature.

"It is nothing.