THE GOLDEN DOG ROMANCE OF OLD QUEBEC ®f WMl. IE.; h'|i>. ■ I ry km, '^Mj WILLIAM KIRBY : IvR.S.C, Dr. Robert T. Sutherland THE GOLDEN DOG (Le Chien D'or) ANGEUQUE AND BIGOT IN THE GARDEN THE GOLDEN DOG (L,e Chien D'or) a romance of the days of louis quinze in quebec BY WILLIAM KIRBY, F.R.S.C. TORONTO THE MUSSON BOOK COMPANY, UMITED T'rrss or T*e Hunter-Rose Co., Limited. Toronto c CONTENTS. I. Men of the Old Regime II. The Walls of Quebec III, A Chatelaine of New France IV. Confidences V. The Itinerant Notary . VI. Beaumanoir VII. The Intendant Bigot . VIII. Caroline de St. Castin IX. Pierre Philibert . X. Ameiie de Repentigny. XI. The Soldier's Welcome XII. The Castle of St. Loi.'- XIII. The Chien d'or . XIV. The Council of War . XV. The Charming Josephine XVI. Angelique des Meloises XVII. Splendide Mendax XVIII. The Merovingian Princess XIX. Put Money in thy Purse XX. Cross Questioning XXI. Belmont . XXII. Sic itur ad astra . XXIII. So glozed the Tempter XXIV. Seals of Love, but Sealed in Vain XXV. The hurried Question of Despair XXVI " Twixt the last Violet and the earliest Rose" XXVII. The Canadian Boat Song .... XXVIII. Cheerful Yesterdays and Confident To-mor- rows . XXIX. A day at the Manor House XXX. Felices ter et.amplius .... XXXI. "No speech of silk wil' serve your turn " XXXII. The Ball at the Intendant's Palace . XXXIII. " On with the Dance" .... XXXIV. Calling a Ravenous bird from the East XXXV. La Corriveau XXXVI. Weird Sisters XXXVII. " Flaskets of Drugs, full to their wicked lips." I r •« 4 24 34 46 53 67 8o '86 92 Jos no 129 14? 'S3 167 182 190 201 208 220 235 245 253 262 273 288 296 3io 318 332 340 353 359 376 388 M50W9O CONTENTS. XXXVIII. The broad black Gateway of a Lie . 395 XXXIX. Olympic Chariots and much learned Dust . 408 XL. The Coutume de Paris . . . 430 XLI. A wild night inn doors and out . . . 443 XLII. M£re Malheur 452 XLIII. Outvenoms all the Worms of Nile . . 468 XLIV. Quoth the raven : " Nevermore ! " . . 475 XLV. A deed without a Name . . . .484 XLVI. " Let's talk of graves and worms and epitaphs " 496 XLVI1. Silk gloves over bloody hands . . . 517 XLVI1I. The Intendant's Dilemma . . .541 XL1X. " I will feet fat the ancient grudge I bear him " 551 L. The Bourgeois Philibert . . . . 561 LI. A drawn game 573 LII. "In gold clasps locks in the golden story " 5S1 LIII. The market-place on St. Martin's Day . 592 LIV. " Blessed they who die doing thy will " . 604 LV. Evil News rides post 622 LVL The Ursulines 633 LVIL The lamp of Repentigny .... 643 LVIII. " Lovely in Death the beauteous Ruin lay ' 658 LIX. " The Kills of God grind slowly" . . .667 THE CHIEN D'OR. CHAPTER I. MEN OF THE OLD REGIME. " ' O EE Naples and then die ! ' That was a proud saying, ^ Count, which we used to hear as we cruised under lateen sails about the glorious bay, that reflects from its waters the fires of Vesuvius. We believed the boast then, Count. But I say now, ' See Quebec and live for ever ! ' Eternity would be too short to wear}' me of this lovely scene — this bright Canadian morning is worthy of Eden, and the glorious landscape worthy of such a sun rising." Thus exclaimed a tall, fair, Swedish gentleman, his blue eyes sparkling, and every feature glowing with enthu- siasm, Herr Peter Kalm, to His Excellency Count de la Galissoniere, Governor of New France, as they stood together on a bastion of the ramparts of Quebec, in the year of grace 1748. A group of French and Canadian officers in the military uniforms of Louis XV., stood leaning on their swords, as they conversed gail) together on the broad gravelled walk, at the foot of the rampart. They formed the suite in attendance upon the Governor, who was out by sunrise this morning to inspect the work done during the night by the citizens of Quebec, and the habitans of the surround- ing country, who had been hastily summoned to labor upon the defences of tli3 city. A few ecclesiastics, in black cassocks, dignitaries of the Church, mingled cheerfully in the conversation of the officers They had accompanied the Governor, both to , THE CHIEN &OR show their respect and to encourage by their presence and exhortations, the zeal of the colonists in the work of fortifying the capital. War was then raging between old England and old France, and between New England and New France. The vast region of North America, stretching far into the interior and south-west from Canada to Louisiana, had for three years past been the scene of fierce hostilities between the rival nations, while the savage Indian tribes ranged on the one side and on the other, steeped their mocassins in the blood of French and English colonists, who, in their turn, became as fierce and carried on the war as relentlessly as the savages themselves. Louisbourg, the bulwark of New France, projecting its mailed arm boldly into the Atlantic, had been cut off by the English, who now overran Acadia, and began to threaten Quebec with invasion by sea and land. Busy rumors of approaching danger were rife in the colony, and the gallant Governor issued orders which were enthusi astically obeyed, for the people to proceed to the walls and place the city in a state of defence ; to bid defiance to the enemy. Rolland Michel Barrin, Count de la Galissoniere, was remarkable no less for his philosophical attainments, that ranked him high among the savans of the French Acad- emy, than for his political abilities and foresight as a statesman. He felt strongly the vital interests involved in the present war, and saw clearly what was the sole policy necessary for France to adopt in order to preserve her magnificent dominion in North America. His coun- sels were neither liked nor followed by the Court of Versailles, then sinking fast into the slough of corruption, that marked the closing years of the reign of Louis XV. Among the people who admired deeds more than words, the Count was honored as a brave and skilful admiral, who had borne the flag of France triumphantly over the seas, and in the face of her most powerful enemies — the English and Dutch. His memorable repulse of Admiral Byng, eigh. years after the events here record- ed, which led- to the death of that brave and unfortunate officer, who was shot by sentence of Court martial to atone for that repulse, was a glory to France, but to the Count brought after it a manly sorrow, for the fate of hi» MEN OF THE OLD REGIME. j opponent, whose death he -egarded as a cruel and unjust act, unworthy of the English nation, usually as generous and merciful as it is brave and considerate. The Governor was already well advanced in yeais. He had entered upon the Avinter of life that sprinkles the head with snow that never melts, but he was still hale, ruddy and active. Nature had, indeed, moulded him in an unpropitious hour for personal comeliness, but in com pensation had seated a great heart and a graceful mind in a body low of stature, and marked by a slight deformity. His piercing eyes, luminous with intelligence and full oi sympathy for every thing noble and elevated, over-powered with their fascination the blemishes that a too curious scrutiny might discover upon his figure ; while his mob'le handsome lips poured out the natural eloquence of clear thoughts and noble sentiments. The Count grew grea - while speaking ; his listeners were carried away by the magic of his voice and the clearness of his intellect. He was very happy this morning by the side of his old friend Peter Kalm, who was paying him a most welcome visit in New France. They had been fellow students both at Upsal and at Paris, and loved each other with a cordiality, that like good wine, grew richer and more generous with age. Herr Kalm stretching out his arms as if to embrace the lovely landscape, and clasp it to his bosom, exclaimed with fresh enthusiasm, " See Quebec, and live for ever ! " " Dear Kalm," said the Governor, catching the fervor of his friend as he rested his hand affectionately on his shoulder ; " you are as true a lover of nature as when we sat together at the feet of Linnaeus, our glorious young master, and heard him open up for us the arcana of God's works ; and we used to feel like him too, when he thanked God for permitting him to look into his treasure house, and see the precious things of creation which he had made." " Tilf men see Quebec," replied Kalm, " they will not fully realize the meaning of the term — ' God's footstool. It is a land worth living for 1 " " Not only a land to live 'or, but a land to die for, and happy the man who dies lor it 1 Confess, Kalm ; thou who hast travelled in all lands, think'st thou not, it i» indeed worthy of its proud title of New France ?" 4 THE CHIEN HOR. " It is indeed worthy," replied Kalm ; " I see here a scion of the old oak of the Gauls, which, if let grow, will shelter the throne of France itself, in an empire widei than Caesar wrested from Ambiotrix." " Yes," replied the Count, kindling at the words of his friend ; " it is old France transplanted, transfigured and glorified ! where her language, religion and laws shall be handed down to her posterity, the glory of North America as the mother land is the glory of Europe." The enthusiastic Galissoniere stretched out his hands and implored a blessing upon the land entrusted to his keeping. It was a glorious morning. The sun had just risen over the hill tops of Lauzon, throwing aside his drapery of gold, purple and crimson. The soft haze of the summer morning was floating away into nothingness, leaving every object fresh with dew and magnified in the limpid purity of the air. The broad St. Lawrence, far beneath their feet, was still partially veiled in a thin blue mist, pierced here and there by the tall mast of a king's ship, *»■" merchantman lying unseen at anchor ; or as the fog rolleu slowly off, a swift canoe might be seen shooting out into a streak of sunshine, with the first news of the morning from the South shore. Behind the Count and his companions rose the white glistening walls of the Hotel Dieu, and farther off the tall tower of the newly restored Cathedral, the belfry of the Recollets and the roofs of the ancient College of the Jesuits. An avenue of old oaks and maples shaded the walk, and in the branches of the trees a swarm of birds fluttered and sang, as if in rivalry with the gay French talk and laughter of the group of officers, who waited the return of the Governor from the bastion where he stood, showing the glories of Quebec to his friend. The walls of the city ran along the edge of the cliff upwards as they approached the broad gallery and massive front of the Castle of St. Louis, and ascending the green slope of the broad glacis, culminated in the lofty citadel, where streaming in the morning breeze, radiant in the sunshine, and-aione in the blue sky, waved the white banner of France, the sight of which sent a thrill of joy and pride into the hearts of her faithful subjects in the New World. MEN OF THE OLD REGIME. j The broad Bay lay before them round as a shield, and glittering like a mirror as the mist blew off its surface. Behind the sunny slopes of Orleans, which the rivei encircled in its arms like a giant lover his fair mistress, rose the bold, dark crests of the Laurentides, lifting their bare summits far away along the course of the ancient river, leaving imagination to warder over the wild scenery in their midst — the woods, glens, and unknown lakes and rivers that lay hid far from human ken, or known only to rude savages, wild as the beasts of chase they hunted in those strange regions. Across the broad valley of the St. Charles, covered with green fields and ripening harvests, and dotted with quaint old homesteads redolent with memories of Norman- dy and Brittany, rose a long mountain ridge, covered with primeval woods, on the slope of which rose the glittering spire of Charlebourg, once a dangerous outpost of civilization. The pastoral Lairet was seen mingling its waters with the St. Charles in a little bay that preserves the name of Jacques Cartier, who with his hardy companions spent their first winter in Canada on this spot, the guests of the hos- pitable Donacana, Lord of Quebec and of all the lands seen from its lofty cape. Directly beneath the feet of the Governor on a broad strip of land that lay between the beach and the preci- pice, stood the many gabled palace of the Intendant, the most magnificent structure in New France. Its long front of eight hundred feet overlooked the royal terraces and gardens, and beyond these the quays and magazines where lay the ships of Bordeaux, St. Malo and Havre, un- loading the merchandize and luxuries of France in ex- change for the more rude but not less valuable products of the Colony. Between the Palace and the Basseville the waves at high tide washed over a shingly beach where there were already the beginnings of a street. A few rude inns dis played the sign of the Fleur de Lys, or the imposing head of Louis XV. Round the doors of these inns in summer-time might always be found groups of loquacious Breton and Norman sailors in red caps and sashes, voy- ageurs and canoemen from the far west in half Indian cos- tume, drinking Gascon wine and Norman cider or the still more potent liquors filled with the fires of the Antilles. The £ THE CHI EN DVK. Batiurt kindled into life on the arrival of the fleet trots Home, and in the evenings of summer as the sun set be hind the Cote d Bonhomme, the natural magnetism of com panionship drew the lasses of Quebec down to the beach where amid old refrains of French ditties, and the music oi violins and tambours de Basque, they danced on the green with the jovial sailors who brought news from thf old land beyond the Atlantic. " Pardon me, gentlemen, for keeping you waiting," said the Governor as he descended from the Bastion and rejoined his suite. " I am so proud of our beautiful Quebec, that I can scarcely stop showing off its charms to my friend Hen Kalm, who knows so well how to appreciate them. But," continued he, looking round admiringly on the bands oi citizens and Habitans, who were at work strengthening every weak point in the fortifications : " My brave Cana dians are busy as beavers on their dam. They are deter mined to keep the saucy English out of Quebec. They de- serve to have the beaver for their crest, industrious fellows that they are 1 I am sorry I kept you waiting, however." "We can never count the moments lost, which your Excellency gives to the survey of our fair land," replied the Bishop, a grave, earnest-looking man. " Would that His Majesty himself could stand on these walls and see with his own eyes, as you do, this splendid patrimony of the crown of France. He would not dream of bartering it away in exchange for petty ends and corners of Ger- many and Flanders as is rumored, my Lord." " True words and good, my Lord Bishop," replied the Governor, "the retention of all Flanders now in the strong hands of the Marshal de Saxe would be a poor compensa- tion for the surrender of a glorious land like this to the English." Flying rumors of some such proposal on the part of r ranee had reached the colony, with wild reports arising out of the endless chaffering between the negotiators for peace who had already assembled at Aix la Chapelle. " The fate of America will one day be decided here," con- tinued the governor, " I see it written upon this rock, who- ever rules Quebec will sway the destinies of the continent I May our noble France be tvise and understand in time th« signs of Empire and of supremacy ! " The Bishop looked upwards with a sigh : " Our noblr MEN OF THE OLD REGIME 1 France has not yet read those tokens, or she misunder- stands them. Oh, these faithful subjects of hers ! Look at them, your Excellency." The Bishop pointed toward the crowd of citizens hard at work on the walls. " There is not a man of them, but is ready to risk life and fortune for the honor and dominion of France, and yet they are ♦.reared by the court with such neglect and burthened with exactions that take from life the sweet reward of labor. They cannot do the impossible that France requires of them — %ht her battles, till her fields, and see their bread taken from them by these new ordinances of the Intend- ant." " Well, my Lord," replied the Governor affecting a jocu- larity he did not feel, for he knew how true were the words of the Bishop. " We must all do our duty, nevertheless. If France requires impossibilities of us, we must perform them ! That is the old spirit ! If the skies fall upon our heads we must like true Gauls hold them up on the points of our lances ! What say you, Rigaud de Vaudreuil ? Cannot one Canadian surround ten New Englanders ? " The Governoi alluded to an exploit of the gallant officer ivhom he turned to address. '* Probatum est, your Excellency ! I once with six hundred Canadians surrounded all New England. Prayers were put up in all the churches of Boston for deliverance, when we swept the Connecticut from end to end with a broom of fire." iX Brave Rigaud ! France has too few like you 1 " re- marked the Governor with a look of admiration. Rigaud bowed and shook his head modestly, " I trust she has ten thousand better," but added, pointing at his fellow officers who stood conversing at a short distance, '' Marshal Saxe has few the equals of these in his camp, my Lord Count ! " and well was the compliment deserved. They were gallant men, intelligent in looks, polished in manners and brave to a fault, and all full of that natural gaiety that sits so gracefully on a French soldier. Most of them wore the laced coat and waistcoat, cha- peau, boots, lace ruffles, sash and rapier of the period. A martial costume befitting bt ive and handsome men. Their names were household words in every cottage in New France and many of them as frequently spoken of in the English colonies, as in the streets of Quebec. g THE CHIEN Z?'C R. There stood the Chevalier de Beaujeu, a gemleman of Norman family, who was already famed upon the frontier, and who, seven years later in the forests of the Mononga- hela, crowned a life of honor by a soldier's death on 'he bloody field won from the unfortunate Braddock, and ie feating an army ten times more numerous than his own. Talking gayly with De Beaujeu were two gallant looking young men, of a Canadian family which, out of seven brothers, lost six slain in the service of their King : Jumonville de Villiers, who was afterwards, in defiance of a flag of truce, shot down by order of Colonel Washington, in the far off forests of the Alleghanies ; and his brotier, Coulon de Villiers, who received the sword of Washington when he surrendered himself and garrison prisoners of war, at Fort Necessity, in 1754. Coulon de Villiers imposed ignominious conditions of surrender upon Washington, but scorned to take other revenge for the death of his brother. He spared the life of Washington, who lived to become the leader and idol of his nation, which, but for the magnanimity of the noble Canadian, might have never struggled into independence. There stood also the Sieur de Lery (the King's engi- neer, charged with the fortification of the colony), a man of Vauban's genius in the art of defence. Had the schemes which he projected, and vainly urged upon the heedless Court of Versailles, been carried into effect, the conquest of New France would have been an impossibility. Arm in arm with De Lery, in earnest conversation, walked the handsome Claude de Beauharnois — brother of a former. Governor of the colony^-a graceful, gallant looking soldier. De Beauharnois was the ancestor of a vigorous and beautiful race, among whose posterity was the fair Hortense de Beauharnois, who in her son, Napoleon III., seated an offshoot of Canada upon the Imperial throne of France long after the abandonment of their ancient colony by the corrupt House of Bourbon. Conspicuous among the distinguished officers, by his tall, straight figure and quick movements, was the Cheva- lier la Corne St. Luc supple as an Indian and almost as dark, from exposure 3 the weather and incessant cam- paigning. He was freih from the blood and desolation of Acadia, where ^France, indeed, lost her ancient colony. but St. Luc reaped a full sheaf of glory at Grin -J Pri. MEN OF THE OLD REGIME. 9 tn the Bay of Minas, by the capture of an army of New Englanders. The rough old soldier was just now al smiles and gayety, as he conversed with Monseigneur De Pontbriant, the venerable Bishop of Quebec, and Father De Berey, the Superior of the Recollets. The Bishop, a wise ruler of his Church, was also a passionate lover of his country : the surrender of Quebec to the English broke his heart, and he died a few months after the announcement of the final cession of the colony Father De Berey, a jovial monk, wearing the grey gown and sandals of the Recollets, was renowned through- out New France for his wit more than for his piety. He had once been a soldier, and he wore his gown, as he had worn his uniform, with the gallant bearing of a King's Guardsman. But the people loved him all the more for his jests, which never lacked the accompaniment of genuine charity. His sayings furnished all New France with daily food for mirth and laughter, without detracting an iota of the respect in which the Recollets were held through- out the colony. Father Glapion, the Superior of the Jesuits, also accom- panied the Bishop. His close, black soutane contrasted oddly with the grey, loose gown of the Recollet. He was a meditative, taciturn man — seeming rather to watch the others than to join in the lively conversation that went on around him. Anything but cordiality and brotherly love reigned between the Jesuits and the Order of St. Francis, but the Superiors were too wary to manifest towards each other the mutual jealousies of their subordinates. The long line of fortifications presented a stirring appearance that morning. The watch-fires that had illuminated the scene during the night were dying out, the red embers paling under the rays of the rising sun. From a wide circle surrounding the city, the people had come in — many were accompanied by their wives and daughters — to assist in making the bulwark of the colony impregnable against the rum< red attack of the English. The people of New France, taught by a hundred years of almost constant warfare with the English and with the savage nations on their frontiers, saw as clearly as the Governor, that the key of French dominion hung inside the walls of Quebec, and that for an enemy to grasp it was te lose all they valued as subjects of the Crown of France CHAPTER II. THE WALLS OF QUEBEC. Count De la Galissoniere, accorcpaniea by his dis tinguished attendants, proceeded again on their round of inspection. They were everywhere siluted with heads uncovered and welcomed by hearty greetings. The peo- ple of New France had lost none of the natural polite- ness and ease of their ancestors; and, as every gentle- man of the Governor's suite was at once recognized, a conversation, friendly even to familiarity, ensued between them and the citizens and habitant, who worked as if they were building their very souls into the walls of the old city. "Good morning, Sieur De St. Denis!" gayly exclaimed the Governor to a tall, courtly gentleman, who was super- intending the labor of a body of his censitaires from Beau- port. " ' Many hands make light work,' says the proverb. That splendid battery you are just finishing deserves to be called Beauport. " What say you, my Lord Bishop?" turn- ing to the smiling ecclesiastic. " Is it not worthy of bap- tism ? " " Yes, and blessing both : I give it my episcopal bene- diction," replied the Bishop ; " and truly I think most of the earth of it is taken from the consecrated ground of the Hotel Dieu — it will stand fire ! " " Many thanks, my Lord ! " — the Sieur De St. Denis bowed very low — "where the Church bars the door, Satan will never enter, nor the English either! Do you hear, men ? " continued he, turning to his censitaires, " my Lord Bishop christens our batter)' Beauport, and says it will stand fire 1 " " Vive U Roil" was the response, an exclamation that came spontaneously to the lips of all Frenchmen on even emergency of danger or emotion of joy. THE WALLS OF QUEBEC. x , A sturdy habitan came forward, and, doffing his red tuque or cap, addressed the Governor — " This is a good battery, my Lord Governor, but there ought to be one as good in our village. Permit us to build one and man it ; and we promise your Excellency that no Englishman shall ever get into the back door of Quebec, while we have lives to defend it." The old habitan had the eye of a soldier He had been one. The Governor knew the value of tK suggestion, and at once assented to-it, adding : " No bettei defenders of the city could be found anywhere than the brave habitans of Beauport." The compliment was never forgotten ; and years after- wards, when Wolfe besieged the city, the batteries of Beauport repelled the assault of his bravest troops, and well nigh broke the heart of the young hero over the threatened defeat of his great undertaking, as his brave Highlanders and grenadiers lay slain by hundreds upon the beach of Beauport. The countenances of the hardy workers were suddenly covered with smiles of welcome recognition at the sight of the well-known Superior of the Recollets. " Good morning ! " cried out a score of voices ; " good morning, Father De Berey ! The good wives of Beauport send you a thousand compliments. They are dying to see the good Recollets down our way again. The Grey Brothers have forsaken our parish." " Ah ! " replied the Superior, in a tone of mock severity, while his eyes overran with mirthfulness, " you are a crowd of miserable sinners who will die without benefit of clergy — only you don't know it ! Who was it boiled the Easter eggs hard as agates which you gave to my poor brother Recollets for the use of our convent ? Tell me that, pray! All the salts and senna in Quebec have not sufficed to restore the digestion of my poor monks since you played that trick upon them down in your misnamed rillage of Beauport ! " " Pardon ! Reverend Father De Berey ! " replied a smiling habitan : " it was not we, but the sacrilegious canaille of St. Anne, who soiled the Easter eggs ! If you don't believe us send some of the good Grey Friars down to try our love. See if they do not find everything soft foi them at Beauport, from our hearts to our feather beds, to say nothing of our eggs and bacon. Our good wives are , 2 THE CHI EN POR. fairly melting with longing for a sight of the grey gowna of St. Francis once more in our village." "Oh ! I dare be bound the canaille of St. Anne are lost dogs like yourselves — Catuli catulorum." The habitans thought this sounded like a doxology, and some crossed themselves, amid the dubious laughter of others, who suspected Father De Berey of a clerical jest " Oh ! " continued he, " if fat Father Ambrose, the cook of the convent, only had you, one at a time, to turn the spit for him, in place of the poor dogs of Quebec, which he has to catch as best he can, and set to work in his kitchen ! but, vagabonds that you are, you are rarely set to work now on the King's corvee — all work, little play, and no pay ! " The men took his raillery in excellent part, and one, their spokesman, bowing low to the Superior, said : " For- give us all the same, good Father. The hard eggs of Beauport will be soft as lard compared with the iron shells we are preparing for the English breakfast when they shall appear some fine morning before Quebec." " Ah, well, in that case I must pardon the trick you played upon Brothers Mark and Alexis — and I give you my blessing, too, on condition you send some salt to our convent to cure our fish, and save your reputations, which are very stale just now among my good Recollets." A general laugh followed this sally, and the Reverend Superior went off merrily, as he hastened to catch up with the Governor, who had moved on to another point in the line of fortifications. Near the gate of St. John they found a couple of ladies, encouraging by their presence and kind words a numerous party of habitans — one an elderly lady of noble bearing and still beautiful, the rich and powerful feudal Lady of the Lordship or Seigneurie of Tilly ; the other her orphan niece, in the bloom of youth, and of surpassing loveliness — the fair Amelie De Repentigny, who had loyally ?ccom- panied her aunt to the capital with 'all the men o ( the Seigneurie of Tilly, to ass : st in the completion oi its defences. To features which looked as if chiselled out of the purest Parian marble, just flushed witl the glow of morn, and cut in those perfect lines of proportion which nature only bestows on a few chosen favorites at intervals to show the THE WALLS OF QUEBEC. „ possibilities of feminine beauty, Ame'lie De Repentigny added a figure which, in its perfect symmetry, looked smaller than it leally was, for she was a tall girl : it filled the eye and held fast the fancy with the charms of a thou sand graces as she moved or stood, suggestive of the beauty of a tame fawn, that in all its movements pre- serves somewhat of the coyness and easy grace of its free life Her hair was very dark and thick, matching her deep liquid eyes, that lay for the most part so quietly and rest- fully beneath their long shading lashes. Eyes gentle, frank, and modest — looking tenderly on all things innocent, fearlessly on all things harmful ; eyes that nevertheless noted every change of your countenance, and read uner- ringly your meaning more from your looks than from your words. Nothing seemed to hide itself from that pure, searching glance when she chose to look at you. In their depths you might read the tokens of a rare and noble character — a capability of loving which, once enkindled by a worthy object, might make all things that are possible to devoted womanhood, possible to this woman, who would not count her life anything either for the man she loved or the cause she espoused. Ame'lie De Repentigny will not yield her heart without her judg- ment ; but when she does, it will be a royal gift — never to he recalled, never to be repented of, to the end of her life. Happy the man upon whom she shall bestow her affec- tion ! It will be his forever. Unhappy all others who may love her ! She may pity, but she will listen to no voice but the one which rules her heart, to her life's end ! Both ladies were in mourning, yet dressed with elegant simplicity, befitting their rank and position in society. The Chevalier Le Gardeur de Tilly had fallen two years ago, fighting gallantly for his King and country, leaving a child- less widow to manage his vast domain and succeed him as sole guardian of their orpban niece, Ame'lie de Repen- tigny, and her brother Le Gardeur, left in infancy to the care of their noble relatives, who in every respect treated them as their own, and who, indeed, were the legal inheri- tors of the Lordship of Tilly. Only a year ago, Ame'lie had left the ancient convent of the Ursulines, perfected in all the graces and accom- plishments taught in the famous cloister founded by Mere Marie de l'lncarnation, for the education of the daughters M THE CHI EN HOR. of New Fi mce, generation after generation of whcm wert trained according to her piecepts, in graces of manner, as well as in the learning of the age — the latter might be for- gotten — the former, never. As they became the wives and mothers of succeeding times, they have left upon their de- scendants an impress of politeness and urba*nity that distin- guishes tl e people of Canada to this day. Of all the crowd of fair eager aspirants contending foi honors on the day of examination in the great school, crowns had only been awarded to Ame'lie and to Ange'lique des Meloises. Two girls equal in beauty, grace and ac- complishments, but unlike in character and in destiny. The currents of their lives ran smoothly together at the beginning. How widely different was to be the ending of them ! The brother of Ame'lie, Le Gardeur de Repentigny, was her elder by a year — an officer in the King's service, handsome, brave, generous, devoted to his sister and aunt, but not free from some of the vices of the times, prevalent among the young men of rank and fortune in the colony, who in dress, luxury and immorality, strove to imitate the brilliant, dissolute Court of Louis XV. Ame'lie passionately loved her brother, and endeavored — not without success, as is the way with women — to blind herself to his faults. She saw him seldom, however, and in her solitary musings in the far off Manor House of Tilly, she invested him with all the perfections he did and did not possess ; and turned a deaf, almost an angry ear, to talei whispered in his disparagement. CHAPTER III. A CHATELA:NE OF NEW FRANCE. The Governor was surprised and delighted to encounter \ ady de Tilly and her fair niece, both of whom were well known to, and highly esteemed by him. He and the gentle- men of his suite saluted them with profound respect, not unmingled with chivalrous admiration for noble, higb spirited women. A CHATELAINE OF NEW FRANCE. 11 44 My honored Lady de Tilly and Mademoiselle de Re- pentigny : " said the Governor — hat in hand — " welcome to Quebec. It does not surprise, but it does delight me beyond measure to meet you here at the head of your loyaJ censitaires. But it is not the first time that the ladies of the House of Tilly have turned out to defend the Kingfi forts against his enemies." This he said in allusion to the gallant defence of a fort on the wild Iroquois frontier, by a former lady of her house, who, while her husband lay wounded within the walls, as- sumed the command of the garrison, repulsed the savage enemy, and saved the lives of all from the fire and scalping knife. 44 My Lord Count ! " replied the Lady with quiet dignity, 44 Tis no special merit of the house of Tilly to be true to its ancient fame. It could not be otherwise. But your thanks are at this time more due to these loyal Habitans, who have so promptly obeyed your proclamation. It is the King's corvee to restore the walls of Quebec, and no Canadian may withhold his hand from it without disgrace." 44 The Chevalier LaCorne St. Luc will think us two poor women a weak accession to the garrison," added she, turn- ing to the Chevalier and cordially offering her hand to the brave old officer who had been the comrade in arms and the dearest friend of her family. 44 Good blood never fails, My Lady," returned the Chevalier warmly grasping her hand, 44 you out of place here I no ! no ! you are at home on the ramparts of Quebec, quite as much as in your own drawing-room at Tilly. The gal- lant King Francis used to say, that a court without ladies, was a year without a spring and a summer without roses. The walls of Quebec without a Tilly and a Repentigny would be a bad omen indeed, worse than a year without a spring or a summer without roses. But where is my dear goddaughter Amdlie ? " As he spoke the old soldier embraced Amelie and kissed her cheek with iitherly effusion. She was a prodig- ious favorite. 4 ' Welcome Ame'lie !" said he, 44 the sight of you is like flowers in June. What a glorious time you have had, growing taller and prettier every day, all the time I have been sleeping by camp fires in the forests of Acadia \ But you girls are all alike ; why I hardly knew my own pretty Agathe when I came home. The saucy minx almesf j 5 THE CHIEN D'OK. kissed my eyes out, to dry the tears of joy in them, sw* said ! " Ame'lie blushed deeply at the praises bestowed upon her, yet felt glad to know that her godfather retained all his old affection. "Where is Le Gardeur ? " asked he, as she took his arm and walked a few paces apart from the throng. Ame'lie colored deeply and hesitated a moment. " I do not know, godfather ! We have not seen Le Gardeur since oui arrival." Then after a nervous silence she added : " I have been told that he is at Beaumanoir, hunting with His Excellency the Intendant." La Corne, seeing her embarrassment, understood the reluctance of her avowal, and sympathized with it. An angry light flashed beneath his shaggy eyelashes, but he suppressed his thoughts. He could not help remarking however, " With the Intendant at Beaumanoir ! I could have wished Le Gardeur in better company ! No good can come of his intimacy with Bigot, Amelie, you must wean him from it. He should have been in the city to receive you and the Lady de Tilly." " So he doubtless would have been, had he known of our coming. We sent word, but he was away when our messenger reached the city." Ame'lie felt half ashamed, for she was conscious that she was offering something unreal to extenuate the fault of her brother. Her hopes rather than her convictions. " Well, well ! goddaughter ! we shall, at any rate, soon have the pleasure of seeing Le Gardeur. The Intendant himself has been summoned to attend a council of war to- day. Colonel Philibert left an hour ago for Beaumanoir." Amelie gave a slight start at the name, she looked in- quiringly, but did not yet ask the question that trembled on her lips. " Thanks, godfather, for the good news of Le Gardeur's speedy return." Ame'lie talked on, her thoughts but little accompanying her words, as she repeated to herself the name of Philibert. " Have you heard that the Intendant wishes to bestow an important and honorable post in the Palace upon Le Gardeur,— my brother wrote to that effect ?" " An important and honorable post in the Palace.' The old soldier emphasized the word honorable. " No, I had not heard of it, never expect to hear of an honorable A CHATELAINE OF NEW FRANCE, yj post in the company of Bigot, Cadet, Varin, De Pean, and the rest of the scoundrels of the Friponne ! Pardon me, dear, I do not class Le Gardeur among them, far from it, dear deluded boy ! My best hope is that Colonel Philibert will find him and bring him clean and clear out of their clutches." The question that had trembled on her lips came out now. For her life she could not have retained it longer. " Who is Colonel Philibert ? godfather," asked she, surprise, curiosity and a still deeper interest marking her voice, in spite of all she could do to appear indifferent. " Colonel Philibert ?" repeated La Corne. " Why, do not you know? who, but our young Pierre Philibert, you have not forgotten him surely, Amelie ? At any rate he has not forgotten you. In many a long night by our watch fires in the forest, has Colonel Philibert passed the hours talking of Tilly and the dear friends he left there. Your brother at any rate will gratefully remember Philibert when he sees him." Amelie blushed a little as she replied somewhat shyly, " Yes, godfather, I remember Pierre Philibert very well — with gratitude I remember him — but I never heard him called Colonel Philibert before." " Oh, true ! He has been so long absent. He left a simple ensign en second and returns a Colonel, and has the stuff in him to make a Field Marshal ! He gained his rank where he won his glory, in Acadia. A noble fellow Ame'lie, loving as a woman to his friends ; but to his foes, stern as the old Bourgeois, his father, who placed thai tablet of the golden dog upon the front of his house to spite the Cardinal they say. The act of a bold man let what will be the true interpretation of it." " I hear everyone speak well of the Bourgeois Philibert." remarked Amelie, " Aunt de Tilly is ever enthusiastic in his commendation. She says he is a true gentleman, although a trader." "Why, he is noble by* birth, if that be needed, and has got the king's license to trade in the colony like some other gentlemen I wot of. He was Count Philibert in Normandy, although he is plain Bourgeois Philibert in Quebec, and a wise man he is too, for with his ships and his comptoirs and his ledgers he has traded himself into being the richest man in New France, while we with our nobility 1 8 THE CHI EN L CR. and our swords have fought ourselves poor, and receive nothing but contempt from the ungrateful courtiers ol Versailles." Their conversation was interrupted by a sudden rush of people, making room for the passage of the Regiment of Beam, which composed part of the garrison of Quebec, on their march to their morning drill, and guard mounting, bold dashing Gascons in blue and white uniforms, tall caps and long queues rollicking down their supple backs, seldom seen by an enemy. Mounted officers, laced and ruffled, gayly rode in front. Subalterns with spontoons and sergeants with halberts dressed the long line of glistening bayonets. The drums and fifes made the streets ring again, while the men in full chorus, a gorge deployee, chanted the gay refrain of La Belle Canadienne, in honor of the lasses of Quebec whose bright eyes ever looked kindly upon the royal uniform, and whose sweet smiles were never withheld from the gallant soldiers wearing it, whether Gaul or Briton. The Governor and his suite had already mounted their horses which were waiting for them at the city gate, and cantered off to the Esplanade to witness the review. " Come and dine with us to-day," said the Lady de Tilly to La Corne St. Luc, as he too bade the ladies a court- eous adieu, and got on horseback to ride after the Governor. " Many thanks ! but I fear it will be impossible, my lady. The council of war meets at the Castle this after- noon. The hour may be deferred, however, should Colonel Philibert not chance to find the Intendant at Beaumanoir, and then I might corne ; but best not expect me." A slight conscious flush just touched the cheek of Ame'lie at the mention of Colonel Philibert. " But come if possible, godfather," added she, " we hope to have Le Gardeur home this afternoon. He loves you so much, and I know you have countless things to say to him." Ame'lie's rembling anxiety about her brother, made her most desirous to bring the powerful influence of La Corne St. Luc to bear upon him. Their kind old godfather was regarded with filial rev erence by both. Ame'lie's father dying on the battle field, had with his latest breath commended the care of hi* children to the love and friendship of La Corne St. Luc. A CHATELAINE OE NEW FRANCE. »* " Well Amelie, blessed are they who do not promise and still perform. I must try and meet my dear boy, so do not quite place me among the impossibles. Good bye, my Lady. Good bye, Amelie." The old soldier gaily kissed his hand and rode away. Amelie was thoroughly surprised, and agitated out of all composure by the news of the return of Pierre Philibert. She turned aside from the busy throng that surrounded her, leaving her aunt engaged in eager conversation with the Bishop and Father de Berey. She sat down in a quiet em brasure of the wall, and with one hand resting her droop- ing cheek, a train of reminiscences flew across her mind like a flight of pure doves suddenly startled out of a thicket. She remembered vividly Pierre Philibert the friend and fellow student of her brother. He spent so many of his holidays at the old manor house of Tilly, when she, a still younger girl, shared their sports, wove chaplets of flowers for them, or on her shaggy pony rode with them on many a scamper through the wild woods of the Seigneurie Those summer and winter vacations of the old Seminary of Quebec used to be looked forward to by the young lively girl as the brightest spots in the whole year, and she grew hardly to distinguish the affection she bore her brother from the regard in which she held Pierre Philibert. A startling incident happened one day, that filled the inmates of the Manor house with terror, followed by a great joy, and which raised Pierre Philibert to the rank of an unparalleled hero in the imagination of the young girl. Her brother was gambolling carelessly in a canoe, while she and Pierre sat on the bank watching him. The light craft suddenly upset. Le Gardeur struggled for a few moments and sank under the blue waves that look so beautiful and are so cruel Amelie shrieked in the wildest terror and in helpless agony, while Philibert rushed without hesitation into the water ; swam out to the spot and dived with the agility of a beaver. He presently re-appeared bearing the inanimate body of her brother to the shore. Help was soon obtain- ed and after long efforts to restore Le Gardeur to con- sciousness, efforts which seemed to last an age to the des- pairing girl, they at last su> seeded, and Le Gardeur was ao THE CHI EN If OR. restored to the arms of his family. Ame'lie, in a delirium of joy and gratitude, ran to Philibert, threw her arms round him and kissed him again and again, p.edging her eternal gratitude to the preserver of her brother, and vow ing that she would pray for him to her life's end. Soon after that memorable event in her young life, Pierre Philibert was sent to the great military schools in France, to study the art of war, with a view to entering the King's service ; while Ame'lie was placed in the Convent of the Ursulines to be perfected in all the knowledge and accomplishments of a lady of highest rank in the Colony. Despite the cold shade of a cloister, where the idea of a lover is forbidden to enter, the image of Pierre Philibert did intrude, and became inseparable from the recollection of her brother in the mind of Ame'lie. He mingled as the fairy prince in the day dreams and bright imaginings of the young poetic girl. She had vowed to pray for him to her life's end, and in pursuance of her vow added a golden bead to her chaplet to remind her of her duty in praying for the safety and happiness of Pierre Philibert. But in the quiet life of the Cloister, Ame'lie heard little of the storms of war upon the frontier, and down in the far valleys of Acadia. She had not followed the careei of Pierre from the military school to the camp and the battle field, nor knew of his rapid promotion as one of the ablest officers in the King's service to a high command in his native Colony. Her surprise, therefore, was extreme when she learned that the boy companion of her brother and herself was no other than the renowned Colonel Philibert, Aid de Camp of His Excellency the Governor General. There was no cause for shame in it ; but her heart was suddenly illuminated by a flash of introspection. She be- came painfully conscious how much Pierre Philibert had occupied her thoughts for years, and now all at once she knew he was a man, and a great and noble one. She was thoroughly perplexed and half angry. She questioned her- self sharply, as if running thorns into her flesh, to inquire whether she had failed in the leas: point of maidenly modesty and_ reserve, in thinking sq much of him ; and the more she questioned herself the more agitated she grew under her self-accusation. Her temples throbbed violendy. She hardly dared lift her eyes fiom the grourd A CHATELAINE OF NEW FRANCE. Sl lest some one, even a stranger, she thought, might see het confusion and read its cause. " Sancta Maria," she mur- mured, pressing her bosom with both hands, " calm my soul with thy divine peace, for I know not what to do ! " So she sat alone in the embrasure, living a life of emo- tion in a few minutes ; nor did she find any calm for hei agitated spirits until the thought flashed upon her that she was distressing herself needlessly. It was most improba- ble that Colonel Philibert, after years of absence and ac tive life in the world's great affairs, could retain any recol lection of the school girl of the Manor house of Tilly She might meet him, nay, was certain to do so in the society in which both moved ; but it would surely be as a stranger on his part, and she must make it so on her own. With this empty piece of casuistry, Ame'lie, like others of her sex, placed a hand of steel, encased in a silken glove, upon her heart, and tyrannically suppressed its yearn- ings. She was a victim, with the outward show of conquest over her feelings. In the consciousness of Philibert's im- agined indifference, and utter forgetfulness, she could meet him now, she thought, with equanimity — nay, rather wish- ed to do so, to make sure that she had not been guilty oi weakness in regard to him. She looked up, but was glad to see her aunt still engaged in conversation with the Bishop, on a topic which Ame'lie knew was dear to them both, the care of the souls and bodies of the poor, in par- ticular those for whom the Lady de Tilly felt herself re- sponsible to God and the King. While Ame'lie sat thinking over the strange chances of the morning, a sudden whirl of wheels drew her attention. A gay caleche, drawn by two spirited horses, enfleche, dash- ed through the gateway of St. John, and wheeling swiftly to- wards Amelie, suddenly halted. A young lady, attired in the gayest fashion of the period, throwing the reins to the Ejroom, sprang out of the caleche with the ease and elas- ticity of an antelope. She ran up the rampart to Ame'lie with a glad cry of recognition, repeating her name in a clear musical voice, which Ame'lie at once knew belonged to no other than the gay, beautiful Ange'lique des Meloises. The new comer embraced Amelie and kissed her with warmest expressions of joy at meeting her tl us unexpect- edly in the city. She had learned that Lady de Tilly had returned to Quebec, she said, and she had, therefore, taken 32 THE CHI EN D'OR. the earliest opportunity to find out her dear friend ami school fellow, to tell her all the doings in the city. " It is kind of you, Ange'lique," replied Ame'lie, returr. ing her caress warmly, but without effusion. " We hav« simply come with our people to assist in the King's corvtc. When that is done we shall return to Tilly. I felt sure J should meet you, and thought I should know you again easily, which I hardly do. How you are changed, for the better, I should say, since you left off conventual cap and costume ! " Amelie could not but look admiringly on the beauty of the radiant girl. " How handsome you have grown ! but you were always that. We both took the crown of honor together, but you would alone take the crown of beauty, Angelique.'' Amelie stood off a pace or two and looked at her friend from head to foot with honest admiration, " and would deserve to wear it too," added she. " I like to hear you say that, Ame'lie, I should prefer the crown of beauty to all other crowns ! You halt smile at that, but I must tell the truth, if you do. But you were always a truth-teller, you know, in the convent, and I was not so ! Let us cease flatteries." Ange'lique felt highly flattered by the praise of Amelie whom she had sometimes condescended to envy for her graceful figure and lovely expressive features. " Gentlemen often speak as you do, Amelie," continued she, " but, pshaw ! they cannot judge as girls do, you know. But do you really think me beautiful ? and how beautiful ? Compare me to some one we know." " I can only compare you to yourself, Ange'lique. You are more beautiful than any one I know," Amelie burst out in frank enthusiasm. " But, really and truly, do you think me beautiful, not only in your eyes, but in the judgment of the world ? " Angelique brushed back her glorious hair and stared fixedly in the face of her friend, as if seeking confirmation d! something in her own thoughts. " What a strange question, Angd'ique. Why do you ask me in that way ? " " Because," replied she with bitterness, " I begin to doubt it. I have been praised for my good looks until 1 grow weary of thelteration ; but I believed the lying flatter) once, as what woman would not, when it is repea'ed even day of her life ? " A CHA TELAINR OF NEW FA &NCF.. jj Amelie looked sufficiently puzzled. " What has come over you, Angelique ? Why should you doubt your own charms? or really, have you found at last a case in which they fail you ? " Very unlikely, a man would say, at fiist, second cr third sight of Angelique des Meloises. She was indeed 4 fair girl to look upon ; tall, and fashioned in nature's most voluptuous mould, perfect in the symmetry of every part with an ease and beauty of movement not suggestive of spiritual graces, like Ame'lie's, but of terrestrial witcheries like those great women of old who drew down the very gods from Olympus, and who in all ages have incited men to the noblest deeds, or tempted them to the greatest crimes. She was beautiful of that rare type of beauty which is only reproduced once or twice in a century to realize the dreams of a Titian or a Giorgione. Her com- plexion was clear and radiant, as of a descendant of the Sun God. Her bright hair, if its golden ripples were shaken out, would reach to her knees. Her face wa> worthy of immortality by the pencil of a Titian. Hei dark eyes drew with a magnetism which attracted men in spite of themselves, whithersoever she would lead them. They were never so dangerous as when in apparent repose, they sheathed their fascination for a moment, and sudden- ly s'hot a backward glance, like a Parthian arrow, from un- der their long eyelashes, that left a wound to be sighed over for many a day. The spoiled and petted child of the brave, careless Renaud d'Avesne des Meloises, of an ancient family in the Nivernois, Ange'lique grew up a motherless girl, clever above most of her companions, conscious of superior charms, always admired and flattered, and, since she left the Convent, worshipped as the idol of the gay gallants oi the city, and the despair and envy of her own sex. She was a born sovereign of men, and she felt it. It was hei divine right to be preferred. She trod the earth with dainty feet, and a step aspiring as that of the fair Louise de La Valiere when she danced in the Royal ballet in the forest of Fontainebleau and stole a king's heart by the flashes of her pretty feet. Angelique had been indulged by he father in every caprice, and in the gay world inhaled the incense of adulation until she regarded it as her right and resented passionately when it was withheld 24 THE CHIEN D'OR She was not by nature bad, although vain, selfish and aspiring. Her footstool was the hearts of men, and upon it she set hard her beautiful feet, indifferent to the anguish caused by her capricious tyranny. She was cold and calcu lating under the warm passions of a voluptuous nature. Although many might believe they had won the iavor, none felt sure they had gained the love of this fair capricious girl. , CHAPTER IV. CONFIDENCES. angelique took the arm of Ame'lie in her old, familiar school girl way, and led her to the sunny corner of a bas- tion where lay a dismounted cannon. The green slope of the long hill side of Charlebourg was visible through an embrasure, like a landscape framed in massive stone. The girls sat down upon the old gun. Angelique held Amelie by both hands, as if hesitating how to express something she wished to say. Still, when Ange'lique did speak, it was plain to Amelie that she had other things on her mind than what her tongue gave loose to. " Now we are quite alone, Amelie," said she, u we can talk as we used to do in our school days. You have not been in the city during the whole summer, and have mis- sed all its gaieties ?" " I was well content ! how beautiful the country looks from here," replied Amelie, glancing out of the embrasure at the green fields and gorgeous summer woods that lay across the valley of the St. Charles. " How much pleas- anter to be in it, revelling among the flowers and under the trees! I like to touch the country as well as to look *t it from a distance, as you do in Quebec." " Wsli I never care for the country if 1 can only get enough of the city. Quebec was never so gay as it has been this year. The royal Roussillon and the fresnly ar- rived regiments of Beam and Pjnthieu, have turned the heads of all Quebec, — of the girls, that is. Gallants have been plenty as bilberries in August. And you may be sure J CONFIDENCES. *5 got my share, Amelie " Ange'lique laughed aloud at some secret renuiaiscences of her summer campaign. " It is well I did not come to the city, Angelique, to get my head turned like the rest ! but now that I am here, suppose I should mercifully try to heal some of the hearts you have broken ! " "I hope you wont try. Those bright ejes of yours would heal too effectually the wounds made by mine, and that is not what I desire," replied Angelique, laughing. " No ! then your heart is more cruel than your eyes But, tell me, who have been your victims this year, Ange- lique?" " Well, to be frank, Amelie, I have tried my fascinations upon the king's officers very impartially, and with fair suc- cess. There have been three duels, two deaths, and one Captain of the royal Roussillon turned cordelier for my sake. Is that not a fair return for my labor? " " You are shocking as ever, Angelique ! I do not be lieve you feel proud of such triumphs," exclaimed Ame'lie. " Proud, no ! I am not proud of conquering men. That is easy ! My triumphs are over the women ! and the way to triumph over them is to subdue the men. You know my old rival at school, the haughty Franchise de Lantagnac ; I owed her a grudge, and she has put on the black veil for life, instead of the white one and orange blossoms for a day ! I only meant to frighten her, how- ever, when I stole her lover, but she took it to heart and went into the Convent. It was dangerous for her to chal- lenge Angelique des Meloises to test the fidelity of her af- fianced, Julien de St. Croix." Amelie rose up in honest indignation. Her cheek burning like a coal of fire. " I know your wild talk of old, Angelique, but I will not believe you are so wicked as to make deadly sport of our holiest affections." " Ah, if you knew men as I do, Ame'lie, you would think it no sin to punish them for their perjuries ; but you are a nun in experience, and never woke out of a girl's dream of love, as I have dor e." Ange'lique seemed to make this remark in a hard m)notone as much to herself as to her companion. " No, I don't know men," replied Ame'lie, " but I think a good nob!e man is after God the worthiest object of a woman's devotion. We were better dead than finding a 6 The chiak nok. amusement ii the pain of those who love us ; pfay wha* became of Jui en de St. Croix after you broke up his in- tended marriage with poor Franoicse." " O ! him I threw to the fishes ! what did I care tor him ? It was mainly to punish Francoise' presumption that I showed my power and made him fight that desperate duel with Capcain LeFranc." " O, Angelique, how could you be so unutterably wicked ?" " Wicked ? It was not my fault, you know, that he was •dlled. He was my champion and ought to have come jff victor. I wore a black ribbon for him a full half year, and had the credit of being devoted to his memory ; I had *ny triumph in that if in nothing else." " Your triumph ! for shame, Ange'lique. I will not 'isten to vou ; you profane the very name of love by utter- .ng such sentiments. The gift of so much beauty was for blessing, not for pain. St. Mary pray for you, Angelique you need her prayers ! " Amelie rose up suddenly. " Nay, do not get angry and go off that way, Amelie,*' ejaculated Angelique. " I will do penance for my tri- umphs by relating my defeats, and my special failure of all, which I know you will rejoice to hear." " I, Angelique ! What have your triumphs or failures ro do with me ? No, I care not to hear." Ange'lique held ner half forcibly by the scarf. " But you will care when I tell you that I met an old and valued friend of yours last night at the Castle The new Aide-de-Camp of the Governor, Colonel Philibert. I think I have heard you speak of Pierre Philibert in the Convent, Amelie ? " Amelie felt the net thrown over her by the skilful Re tiaria. She stood stock still in mute surprise, with averted eye and deeply blushing cheek, fighting desperately with the confusion she feared to let Angelique detect. But that keen sighted girl saw too clearly — she had caught her fast as a bird is caught b/ the fowler. ' Yes, I met with a double defeat last night," continued \ngelique. " Indeed ! pray from whom ? " Amelie's curiosity though not usually a-troublesome quality, was by this time fairly moused. Ange'lique saw her drift, ind played with her anxiety for a few moments. CONFIDENCES. »7 " Mj first rebuff was from that gentlemanly philosopher from Sweden, a great friend of the Governor, you know. But alas, I might as well have tried to fascinate an iceberg 1 His talk was all of the flowers of the field. He has not gallantry to give you a rose before he has dissected it to the very calyx. I do not believe that he knew after half an hour's conversation with me, whether I was man or woman. That was defeat number one." " And what was number two ? " Amelie was now thor- oughly interested in Angelique's gossip. " I left the dry unappreciative philosopher and devoted myself to charm the handsome Colonel Philibert. He was all wit and courtesy. But my failure was even more signal with him than with the cold Swede." Ame'lie's eyes gave a sparkle of joy, which did not es- cape Angelique, but she pretended not to see it. " How was that ? Tell me, pray, how you failed with Colonel Phil- ibert ? " " My cause of failure would not be a lesson for you, Amelie. Listen ; I got a speedy introduction to Colons Philibert, who I confess is one of the handsomest men I ever saw. I was bent on attracting him." " For «,hame, Angelique ! How could you confess to ought so unwomanly ? " There was a warmth in Ame'lie's tone that was less noticed by herself than by her compan- ion. " Well, it is my way of conquering the King's army. I shot my whole quiver of arrows at Colonel Philibert, but to my chagrin hit not a vital part ! He parried every one and returned them broken at my feet. His persistent questioning about yourself, as soon as he discovered we had been school companions in the Convent, quite foiled me. He was full of interest about you, and all that concerned you, but cared not a fig about me ! " " What could Colonel Philibert have to ask you about me ? " Ame'lie unconsciously drew closer to her compan- ion and even clasped her arm by an involuntary movement *hich did not escape her fr'end. " Why he asked everything a gentleman could with proper respect ask about a lady." " And what did you say ? " " O, not half enough to content him. I confess I felt piqued that he only looked upon me as a sort of Pythoness ,8 THE CHI EN UOR to solve enigmas about you. I had a grim satisfaction in leaving his curiosity irritated, but not satisfied. I praisec your beauty, goodness and cleverness up to the skies, how ever. I was not untrue to old friendship, Ame'lie 1 " An- ge'lique kissed her friend on the cheek, who silently allow- ed what in her indignation a few moments ago she would have refused. " But what said Colonel Philibert of himself ? Never mind about me." " O, impatient that you are ! He said nothing of him- self. He was absorbed in my stories concerning you. I told him as pretty a fable as La Fontaine related of the Avare qui avait perdu son tresar ! I said you were a beau- tiful Chatelaine besieged by an army of lovers, but the knight errant Fortunatus had alone won your favor, and would receive your hand ! The brave Colonel ! I could see he winced at this. His steel cuirass was not invulner- able. I drew blood, which is more than you would have dared to do Ame'lie ! But I discovered the truth hidden in his heart. He is in love with vou, Ame'lie De Repent- igny ! " " Mad girl 1 How could you ? How dare you speak so of me ? What must Colonel Philibert think ? " " Think ? He thinks you must be the most perfect oi your sex ! Why, his mind was made up about you, Ame'- lie before he said a word to me. Indeed, he only just wanted to enjoy the supernal pleasure of hearing me sing the praises of Ame'lie De Repentigny to the tune com- posed by himself." " Which you seem to have done, Angdlique ! " " As musically as Aunt MeVe St. Borgia, when singing vespers in the Ursulines," was Angelique's flippant reply. Ame'lie knew how useless it was to expostulate. She swallowed her mingled pleasure and vexation salt with tear- she could not help. She changed the subject by a vio lent wrench, and asked Angelique when she had last seen Le Gardeur. " At the Indendant's Levee the other day How like you he is too, only less am able ! " Angelique did not respond readily to her friend's ques- tion about her brother. " Less amiable ? that is not like my brother. Whv dn vou think him less amiable thai tw> 5 " CONFIDENCES. 29 " Because he got angry with me at the ball given in honor of the amval of the Intendant, and I have not been able yet to restore him to perfect good humor with me since " " 0, then Le Gardeur completes the trio of those who are proof against your fascinations ? " Amelie was secret- ly giad to hear of the displeasure of Le Gardeur with An- gelique." " Not at all, I hope, Amelie. I don't place Le Gardeur in the same category with my other admirers. But he got offended because I seemed to neglect him a little to cultivate this gay new Intendant. Do you know him ? " " No ! nor wish to ! I have heard much said to his disadvantage. The Chevalier La Corne St. Luc has open- ly expressed his dislike of the Intendant for something that happened in Acadia." " O, the Chevalier La Corne is always so decided in his likes and dislikes — one must either be very good or very bad to satisfy him," replied Angelique with a scornful pout of her lips. " Don't speak ill of my god-father, Angelique ; better be profane on any other topic ; you know my ideal of manly virtues is the Chevalier La Corne," replied Amelie. " Well, I won't pull down your idol then ! I respect the brave old soldier, too ; but could wish him with the army in Flanders ! " " Thousands of estimable people augur ill from the ac- cession of the Intendant Bigot in new France, besides the Chevalier La Corne," Amelie said after a pause. She dis- liked censuring even the Intendant. "Yes," replied Angelique, " the Honuetes gens do, who think themselves bound to oppose the Intendant, be- cause he uses the royal authority in a regal way, and makes every one high and low, do their devoir to Church and State." " While he does his devoir to none ! But I am no pol- itician, Angelique. But when so many good people call the Intendant a bad man, it behoves one to be circum- spect in ' cultivating him,' as you call it." "Well he is rich enough to pay for all the broken pots ! They say he amassed untold wealth in Acadia, Ame'lie !" "And lost the Province foi the king ! " retorted Am<* 3° THE CHI EN HOA. lie with all the asperity her gentle but patriotic spirit wai capable of. " Some say he sold the country." " I don't care ! " replied the reckless beauty ; " he ia like Joseph in Egypt, next to Pharoah ir. authority. He can shoe his horses with gold ! I wish he would shoe me with golden slippers — I would wear them, Amelie ! " Ange'lique stamped aer dainty foot upon the ground, as if in fancy she already had them on. " It is shocking if you mean it ! " remarked Amelie pityingly, for she felt Ange'lique was speaking her genuine thoughts. " But is it true that the Intendant is really as dissolute as rumor says ? " " I don't care if it be true, he is noble gallant, polite, rich, and all-powerful at Court. He is reported to be prime favorite of the Marquise de Pompadour. What more do I want ? " replied Ange'lique warmly. Ame'lie knew enough by report of the French Count to cause her to shrink instinctively as from a repulsive insect, at the name of the mistress of Louis XV. She trembled it the thought of Angelique's infatuation, or perversity in -suffering herself to be attracted by the glitter of the vices >f the royal Intendant. " Angelique ! " exclaimed she, " I have heard things of *he Intendant, that would make me tremble for you, were you in earnest." " But I am in earnest ! I mean to win and wear the In- tendant of New France, to show my superiority over the whole bevy of beauties competing for his hand. There is not a girl in Quebec but would run away with him to- morrow." " Fie, Angelique ! such a libel upon our sex ! You know better. But you cannot love him ? " " Love him ? No ! " Angelique repeated the denial scornfully. " Love him ! I never thought of love and him together ! He is not handsome, like your brother, Le Gardeur, who is my beau ideal of a man I could love ; nor has he the intellect and nobility of Colonel Philibert, who is my model of a heroic man. I could love such men as them. But my ambition would not be content with less than a Governor or Pvoyal Intendant ir. New France. In old France, I would njt put up with less than the king himself 1 " Ange'lique laughed at her own extravagance, but sh» CVNF1L ENCES. 3« oelievt-.d in it all 'lie same. Amelie, though sh jcked at hei vrildness, could not help smiling at her folly. " Have you done raving ? " said she ; " I have no right to question your selection of a lover or doubt your power, \nge"lique. But are you sure there exists no insurmount- ible obstacle to oppose these high aspirations ? It is whis- pered that the Intendant has a wite, whom he keeps in the seclusion of Beaumanoir. Is that true ? " The words burnt like fire. Angelique's eyes flashed out daggers. She clenched her delicate hands until hei nails drew blood from her velvet palms. Her frame quiv- ered with suppressed passion. She grasped her companion fiercely by the arm, exclaiming : " You have hit the secret aow, Amelie ! It was to speak of that I sought you out this morning, for I know you are wise, discreet, and every way better than I. It is all true what I have said ind more too, Ame'lie. Listen ! The Intendant has made ove to me with pointed gallantry thz could have no other neaning but that he honorably sougnt my hand. He has nade me talked of, and hated by my own sex, who envied his preference of me. I was living in the most gorgeous of fool's paradises, when a bird brought to my ear the astounding news, that a woman, beautiful as Diana, had been found ir the forest of Beaumanoir, by some Hurons of Lorette, who were out hunting with the Intendant. She was accom- panied by a few Indians of a strange tribe, the Aben- aquais of Acadia. The woman was utterly exhausted by fatigue, and lay asleep on a couch of dry leaves under a tree, when the astonished Hurons led the Intendant to the spot where she lay. " Don't interrupt me, Ame'lie, I see you are amazed, but let me go on ? " She held the hands of her companion firmly in her lap as she proceeded : — " The Intendant was startled out of all composure at the apparition of the seeping lady. He spoke eagerly to the Abenaquais in their own tongue which was unintelligi- ble to the Hurons. When he had listened to a few words of their explanation, he ran hastily to the lady, kissed her, called her by name, ' Caroline !' She woke up sudden- ly, and, recognizing the Intendant, embraced him, crying 1 Francois ! Francois ! ' and fainted in Jhis arms. " The Chevalier was profoundly agitated, blessing and banning in the same breath, the fortune that had led her jg THE CHIEN D'OR. to him. He gave her wine, restored her to consciousness* talked with her long and sometimes angrily ; but to no avail, for the woman in accents of despair, exclaimed ir French, which the Hurons understood, that the Intendant might kill and bury her there, but she would never, never return home any more." Ange'lique scarcely took breat'.i as she continued her eager recital. " The Intendant, overpowered, either by love of her or fear of her, ceased his remonstrances. He gave some pieces of gold to the Abenaquais, and dismissed them. The strange Indians kissed her on both hands as they would a queen, and with many adieus vanished into the forest. The lady, attended by Bigot, remained seated under the tree till nightfall when he conducted her secretly to the Chateau, where she still remains in perfect seclusion in a secret chamber they say, and has been seen by none save one or two of the Intendant's most intimate companions." " Heavens ! what a tale of romance ! How learned you all this Ange'lique ? " exclaimed Amelie, who ha/i listened with breathless attention to the narrative. " Oh, partly from a hint from a Huron girl, and the rest from the Intendant's Secretary. Men cannot keep secrets that women are interested in knowing ! I could make De Pean talk the Intendant's head off his shoulders, if I had him an hour in my confessional. But all my ingenuity could not extract from him what he did not know. Who that mysterious lady is, her name, and family ? " " Could the Huron hunters give no guess ? " asked Ame'lie thoroughly interested in Angelique's story. "No. They learned by signs, however, from the Aben- aquais, that she waj a lady of noble family in Acadia, which had mingled its patrician blood with that of the na- tive chiefs and possessors of the soil. The Abenaquais were chary of their information, however, they would only- say she was a great white lady and as good as any saint in the calendar." " I would give five years of my life to know who and what that woman is ! " Ange'iqu i added, as she leaned over the parapet gazing intently at the great forest that lay beyond Charlebourg, in which was concealed the Chateau of Beaumanoir." " It is a strange mystery. Bat I would not seek to un CONFIDENCES. 33 ravel it, Ange"liq le remarked Ame'lie, " I feel there is sin in it. Do not tjujh it ! It will only bring mischief upon you if you do ! " " Mischief ! So be it I But I will know the worst 1 The Intendant is deceiving me ! Woe be to him and her if I am to be their intended victim ! Will you not assist me, Ame'lie, to discover the truth of this secret?" " I ? how can I ? I pity you Angelique, but it were better to leave this Intendant to his own devices." "You can very easily help me if you will. Le Gardeur must know this secret. He must have seen the woman — but he is angry with me, for — for — slighting him — as he thinks — but he was wrong. I could not avow to him my jealousy in this matter. He told me just enough to madden me, and angrily refused to tell the rest when he saw me so in- fatuated — he called it, over other people's love affairs. Oh, Ame'lie, Le Gardeur will tell you all if you ask him ! " "And I repeat it to you, Angelique, I cannot question Le Gardeur on such a hateful topic. At any rate I need time to reflect and will pray to be guided right. " " Oh, pray not at all ! If you pray you will never aid Tie ! I know you will say the end is wicked and the means dishonorable. But find out I will — and speedily ! It will only be the price of another dance with the Chevalier de Pean, to discover all I want. What fools men are when they believe we love them for their sakes, and not for our own ! " Ame'lie pitying the wild humors, as she regarded them, of her old school companion — took her arm to walk to and fro in the bastion — but was not sorry to see her Aunt and the Bishop and Father De Berey approaching. " Quick," said she to Angelique, " smooth your hair and compose your looks. Here come my Aunt and the Bishop — Father De Berey too ! Sad thoughts are ever banished where he comes, although I don't admire quite so much gayety in a priest. " Angdlique prepared at once to meet them ; and with her wonderful power of adaptation transformed herself in a moment into a merry creature all light and gayety. She saluted the r .,ady de Tilly and the reverend Bishop in the frankest manner — and at once accepted an interchange of wit and laughter with Father De Berey. Her voice, so clear and silvery, would \ ave put the wisdom of Solomon at fault to discover one trace of care on the mil d of this beautiful girL 3 34 THE CHIEN HOR. M She could not remain long, however, in the Church*! company," she said, " she had her uioming calls to finish." She kissed the cheek of Ame'lie and the hand of the Lady DeTilly, and with a coquettish courtesy to the gentlemen, leaped nimbly into her cale'che, whirled round her spirited horses like a practiced charioteer, and drove with rapid pace down the crowded street of St. John, the observed of all observers, the admiration of the men, and thf envy of the women as she flashed by. Ame'lie and the Lady De Tilly having seen a plenteous meal distributed among their people, proceeded to their city home — their seigneurial residence, when they chose to live in the capital. CHAPTER V. THE ITINERANT NOTARY. Master Jean LeNocher, the sturdy ferryman's pari ence had been severely tried for a few days back, passing the troops of habitans over the St. Charles to the city a* Quebec. Being on the King's corvee they claimed the privi lege of all persons in the Royal service. They travelled toll-free, and paid Jean with a nod or a jest in place of the small coin which that worthy used to exact on ordinary occasions. This morning had begun auspiciously for Jean's tem- per, however. A king's officer on a grey charger, had just crossed the ferry; and without claimfng the exemption from toll which was the right of all wearing the king's uniform, the officer had paid Jean more than his fee in solid coin, and rode on his way after a few kind words to the ferry- man and a polite salute to his wife Babet, who stood cour- tesying at the door of their cottage. " A noble gentleman that, and a real one ! " exclaimed Jean to his buxom pretty wife, "and as generous as a prince I See what he has given me." Jean flipped up a piece of silver admiringly and then threw it into the apron of Babet which she spread out to catch it. Babet rubbed the silver piece caressingly between hei fingers and upon her cheek " It is easy to see that hand THE ITINERANT NOTAKf. 35 some officer is from the Castle," said Babet, " and not from the Palace — and so nice looking he is, too. with such a sparkle in his eye and a feasant smile on his mouth. He is as good as he looks 01 I am no judge of men." " And you are an excellent judge of men, I know, Babet," he replied, " or you would never have taken me ! " Jean chuckled richly over his own wit, which Babet nodded lively approval to. " Yes, I know a hawk from a hand- saw, " replied Babet, "and a woman who is as wise as that will never mistake a gentleman, Jean ! I have not seen a handsomer officer than that in seven years ! " " He is a pretty fellow enough, I dare say, Babet, who can he be ? He rides like a Field Marshal too, and thai grey horse has ginger in his heels ! " remarked Jean, as the officer was riding at a rapid gallop up the long white road of Charlebourg. " He is going to Beaumanoir belike to see the Royal Intendant, who has not returned yet from his hunting party." " Whither they went three days ago, to enjoy them- selves in the chase and drink themselves blind in the chateau, while every body else is summoned to the city to work upon the walls ! " replied Babet, scornfully. " I'll be bound that officer has gone to order the gay gallants of the Friponne back to the city to take their share of work with honest people." " Ah ! the Friponne ! The Friponne ! " ejaculated Jean. " The foul fiend fly away with the Friponne ! My ferry boat is laden every day with the curses of the habitans re- turning from the Friponne, where they cheat worse than a Basque peddler, and without a grain of his politeness ! " The Friponne, as it was styled in popular parlance was the immense magazine established by the Grand Com- pany of traders in New France. It claimed a monopoly in the purchase and sale of all imports and exports in the colony. Its privileges were based upon royal ordinances and decrees of the Intendant and its rights enforced in the most arbitrary manner — and to the prejudice of every othei mercantile interest in the colony. As a natural conse- quence it was cordially hated, and richly deserved the maledictions w'lich generally accompanied the mention of the Friponne — the swindle — a rough and ready epithet which sufficiently indicated the feeling of the people whom it at once cheated and oppressed. j6 THE CHIEN nVK. " They say, Jean," — continued Babet, her mind running in a very practical and womanly way upon the price of commodities, and good bargains — " they say, Jean, that the Bourgeois Philibert will not give in like the other mer- chants. He sets the Intendant at defiance and continues to buy and sell in his own comptoir as he has always done in spite of the Friponne." " Yes, Babet ! that is what they say. But I would rather he stood in his own shoes, than I in them if he is to fight this Intendant — who is a Tartar they say." " Pshaw, Jean ! you have less courage than a woman. All the women are on the side of the good Bourgeois ! He is an honest merchant — sells cheap and cheats nobody.'' Babet looked down very complacently upon her new gown, which had been purchased at a great bargain at the Maga- zine of the Bourgeois. She felt rather the more inclined to take this view of the question inasmuch as Jean had grumbled, just a little — he would not do more — at his wife's canity in buying a gay dress of French fabric, like a citr- Dame — while all the women of the parish were wearing homespun, — grogram, or linsey-woolsey — whether at church or market. Jean had not the heart to say another word to Babet about the French gown. In truth he thought she looked very pretty in it, better than in grogram or in linsey-wool- sey, although at double the cost. He only winked know- ingly at Babet, and went on to speaking of the Bourgeois. "They say the king has long hands, but this Intendant has claws longer than Satan. There will be trouble by and by at the Golden Dog — mark that, Babet ! It was only the other day the Intendant was conversing with the Sieur Cadet as they crossed the ferry. They forgot me, or thought I did not hear them ; but I had my ears open, as I always have. I heard something said and I hope no hum will come to the good Bourgeois, that is all ! " " I don't know where Christian folk would deal if any thing happened him," said Babet reflectively. " We always get civility and good pennyworths at the Golden Dog. Some of the lying cheats of the Friponne talked in my hearingoneday about his being a Huguenot. But how can that be, Jean ? "When he gives the best weight and the long- est measure of any merchant in Quebec Religion is a just yard wand, that is my belief, Jean ! " THE ITINERANT NOTARY. 37 Jean rubbed his head with a perplexed air — " I do not know whether he be a Huguenot — nor what a Huguenot is. The Curd one day said, he was a Jansenist on all fours, which I suppose is the same thing Babet — and it does not concern either you or me. But a merchant who is a gen- tleman, and kind to poor folk, and gives just measure and honest weight, speaks truth and harms nobody, is christian enough for me. A Bishop could not trade more honestly; and the word of the Bourgeois is as reliable as a kind's.' u The Curd may call the Bourgeois what he likes," im- plied Baoet, " but there is not another christian in the cit* if the good bourgeois be not one ; and next the church there is not a house in Quebec better known or better liked by all the habitants, than the Golden Dog ; and such bar- gains, too, as one gets there ! " " Aye, Babet ! a good bargain settles many a knotty point with a woman." " And with a man too, if he is wise enough to let his wife do his marketing as you do, Jean ! But who have we here? " Babet set her arms a kimbo and gazed. A number of hardy fellows came down towards the ferry to seek a passage. " They are honest habitans of St. Annes," replied Jean. 'I know them, they, too, are on the king's corvee, and Tavel free, every man of them ! So I must cry vive Le Roi i and pass them over to the city. It is like a holiday when one works for nothing ! " Jean stepped nimbly into his boat, followed by the rough country fellows, who amused themselves by joking at Jean Le Nocher's increasing trade, and the need of putting on an extra boat these stirring times. Jean put a good face upon it, laughed and retorted their quips, and, plying his oars, stoutly performed his part in the king's corvdeby safely landing them on the other shore. Meantime the officer who had lately crossed the ferry rode rapidly up the long, straight highway that led upon the side of the mountain to a cluster of white cottages, and an old church, surmounted by a belfry whose sweet bells were ringing melodiously in the fresh air of the morning. The sun was pouring a flood of golden light over the land- scape. The still glittering dew drops hung upon the trees, shrubs, and long points of grass by the way-side. All were dressed with jewels to greet the rising king of day. 38 THE CHIEN D'OR. The wide, open fields of meadow, and corn fields, ripen ing for harvest, stretched far away, unbroken by hedge ot fence. Slight ditches or banks of turf, covered with nests of violets, ferns and wild flowers of every hue, separated contiguous fields. No other division seemed necessary in the mutual good neighborhood that prevailed among the colonists, whose fashion of agriculture had been brought, with many hardy virtues, from the old plains of Normandy. White walled, red roofed cottages, or more substantial farm houses, stood conspicuously in the green fields or peered out of embowering orchards. Their casements were open to catch the balmy air, while in not a few the sound of clattering hoofs on the hard road drew fair faces to the window or door, to look inquisitively after the officer wearing the white plume in his military chapeau, as he dash- ed by on the gallant grey. Those who caught sight of him saw a man worth see- ing — tall, deep chested, and erect. His Norman features without being perfect were handsome and manly. Stee7 blue eyes, solidly set under a broad forehead, looked out searchingly yet kindly, while his well formed chin and firn) lips gave an air of resolution to his whole look that accord ed perfectly with the brave loyal character of Colonel Phil ibert. He wore the royal uniform. His auburn hair he wore tied with a black ribbon. His good taste discarded perukes and powder although very much in fashion in those days. It was long since he had travelled on the highway of Charlebourg, and thoroughly enjoyed the beauty of the road he traversed. But behind him, as he knew, lay a mag- nificent spectacle, the sight of the great promontory of Quebec, crowned with its glorious fortifications and replete with the proudest memories of North America. More than once the young soldier turned his steed and halted a mo- ment or two to survey the scene with enthusiastic admira tion. It was his native city, and the thought that it was threatened by the national enemy roused like an insult offered to the mother that bore him. He rode onward more than ever impatient of delay, and not till he passed a cluster of elm trees which eminded him of an adventure of his youth, did the sudder heat pass away, caused by the thought of the threatened invasion. Under these trees he remembered that he, and his THE ITINERANT NOTARY. gg school companion Le Gardeur de Repentigny had once taken refuge during a violent storm. The tree they stood under w is shattered by a thunderbolt. They were both stunned for a few minutes, and knew they had had a nar- row escape from death. N» : lher of them ever forgot it. A train of thoughts, never long absent from the mind oi Philibert, started up vividly at the sight of these trees. His memory flew back to Le Gardeur and the Manor house of Tilly, and the fair young girl who captivated his boyish fancy, and filled his youth with dreams of glorious achieve- ments, to win her smiles and do her honor. Among a thousand pictures of her hung up in his mind and secret- ly worshipped, he loved that which presented her likeness on that day when he saved her brother's life, and she kiss- ed him in a passion of joy and gratitude, vowing she would pray for him to the end of her life. The imagination of Pierre Philibert had revelled in the romantic visions that haunt every boy destined to promin- ence. Visions kindled by the eye of woman and the hope of love. The world is ruled by such dreams, dreams of impas- sioned hearts, and improvisations of warm lips, not by cold words linked in chains of iron sequence, by love, not by logic. The heart with its passions, not the understanding with its reasoning, sway, in the long run, the actions of mankind. Pierre Philibert possessed that rich gift of nature, a creative imagination, in addition to the solid judgment of a man of sense, schooled by experience and used to the considerations and responsibilities of weighty affairs. His love for Amelie de Repentigny had grown in secret. Its roots reached down to the very depths of his being. It mingled consciously or unconsciously with all his motives and plans of life, and yet his hopes were not sanguine Years of absence, he remembered, work forgetfulness. New ties and associations might have wiped out the mem- ory of him in the mind of a young girl fresh to society and its delights. He experienced a disappointment in not finding her in the city upon his return a few days ago, and the state of the colony and the stress of military duty had so far orevented his re newwig his acquaintance with the Manor house of Tilly. The old fashioned hostelry of the Couronne de Frame 4 o THE CHI EN D'OR. with its high pitched roof, pointed gables, and broad gal- lery stood directly opposite the rustic church and tall belfry of Charlebourg, not as a rival, but as a sort of adjunct to the sacred edifice. The sign of the crown, bright with gilding, swung from the low, projecting arm of a maple tree, thick with shade and rustling with the beautiful leaves of the emblem of Canada. A few rustic seats under the cool maple were usually occupied, toward the close of :he day, or about the ringing of the Angelus, by a little gather- ing of parishioners from the village, talking over the news of the day, the progress of the war, the ordinances of the Intendant, or the exactions of the Friponne. On Sundays, after Mass and Vespers, the habit ans of all parts of the extended parish naturally met and talked over the affairs of the Fabrique. The value of tithes for the year, the abundance of Easter eggs, and the weight of the first salmon of the season, which was always presented to the Cure with the first fruits of the field, to ensure the blessing of plenty for the rest of the year. The Reverend Cure frequently mingled in these dis- cussions. Seated in his accustomed arm chair, under the shade of the maple in summer, and in winter by the warm fireside, he defended, ex cathedra, the rights of the church, and good-humoredly decided all controversies. He found his parishioners more amenable to good advice over a mug of Norman cider and a pipe of native tobacco, under the sign of the crown of France, than when he lectured them in his best and most learned style from the pulpit. This morning, however, all was very quiet round the old Inn. The birds were singing and the bees humming in the pleasant sunshine. The house looked clean and tidy, and no one was to be seen except three persons bend- ing over a table, with their heads close together deeply ab- sorbed in whatever business they were engaged in. Two of these persons were Dame Be'dard, the sharp landlady of the Crown of France, and her no less sharp and pretty daughter, Zoe. The third person of the trio was a"n old alert looking little man writing at the table as if for very life. He wore a tattered black robe, shortened at the knee, to facilitate walking, a frizzled wig looking as if it had been dressed with a curry comb, a pair of black breeches, well patched with various colors, and gamaches of brown leather, such as the habitans wore, completed his odd at- THE ITINERANT NO TA RY. 4f tire, and formed the professional costume of Master Pa thier dit Robin, the travelling Notary, one of that not un- useful order of itinerants of the law, which flourished un- der the old regime in New France. Upon the table near him stood a black bottle, an empty trencher and a thick scatter of crumbs, showing that the old notary had despatched a hearty breakfast before com- mencing his present work of the pen. A hairy knapsack lay open upon the table near his elbow, disclosing some bundles of dirty papers tied up with red tape ; a tattered volume or two of the Coutume de Paris, and little more than the covers of an odd tome of Pothier, his great namesake and prime authority in the law. Some linen, dirty and ragged as his law papers, was crammed into his knapsack with them. But that was neither here nor there in the estimation of the habitans, so long as his law smelt strong in the nostrils of their opponents in liti- gation. They rather prided themselves upon the roughness of their travelling notary. The reputation of Master Pothier dit Robin was, of course, very great among the habitans, as he travelled from parish to parish, and from Seigneurie to Seigneurie, drawing bills and hypothecations, marriage contracts and last wills and testaments for the peasantry, who had a gen- uine Norman predilection for law and chicanery, and a re- spect amounting to veneration for written documents, red tape and sealing wax. Master Pothier's acuteness in pick- ing holes in the actes of a rival notary was only surpassed by the elaborate intricacy of his own, which he boasted, not without reason, would puzzle the parliament of Paris and confound the ingenuity of the sharpest advocates of Rouen. Master Pothier's actes were as full of embryo dis- putes as a fig is full of seeds, and usually kept all parties in hot water and litigation for the rest of their days. If he did happen now and then to settle a dispute between neigh- bor's he made ample amends for it by setting half the rest of the parish by the ears. Master Pothier's nose, sharp and fiery as if dipped in red ink, almost touched the sheet of paper on the table before him, as he wrote down from the dictation of Dame Be'dard the articles of a marriage contract between her pre'tj daughter, Zoe, and Antoine La Chance, the sod of a com- fortable but keen widow of Beauport. 4* THE CHIEN D'OR. Dame Bedard had shrewdly availed herself of the pre* ence of Master Pothier, and in payment of a night's lodg- ing, at the Crown of France, to have him write out the contract of marriage in the absence of Dame La Chance, the mother of Antoine, who would of course object to the insertion of certain conditions in the contract which Dame Bedard was quite determined apon as the price of Zoe's hand and fortune. " There ! Dame Be'dard ! " cried Master Pothier, stick- ing the pen behind his ear, after a magnificent flourish at the last word, " there is a marriage contract fit to espouse King Solomon to the Queen of Sheba ! A dowry of a hun dred livres tournoises, two cows, and a feather bed, bed stead, and chest of linen ! A donation entrevifs /" " A what ? Master Pothier, now mind ! are you sure that is the right word of the grimoire ? " cried Dame Be'- dard, instinctively perceiving that here lay the very poinl of the contract. " You know I only give on condition, Master Pothier." " O yes ! trust me, Dame Be'dard. I have made it a ionation entre vifs, revocable par cause d' ingratitude, if your uture son-in-law, Antoine La Chance, should fail in his duty p you and to Zoe." "And he won't do his duty to Zoe, unless he does it to me, Master Pothier. But are you sure it is strong enough. Will it hold Dame La Chance by the foot so that she can- not revoke her gifts although I may revoke, min^ ?" " Hold Dame La Chance by the foot ? It will hold her as fast as a snapping turtle does a frog. In proof of it see what Ricard says : page 970. Here is the book." Master Pothier opened his tattered volume and held it up to the Dame. She shook her head. "TLanks, I have mislaid my glasses. Do you read, please i " " Most cheerfully, good Dame ! A notary must have eyes for everybody — eyes like a cat's to see in the dark, and power to draw them in like a turtle, so that he may see nothing that he does not want to see." *' Oh, bless the eyes of the Notary!" Dame Be'dard grew impatient. " Tell me what the book says about gifts revocable — that is what concerns me and Zoe." " Well here it is, Dame. ' Donations stipulated revoca ble at the pleasure of the dono" are null. But this condition THE ITINERANT NOTARY. 43 does not apply to donations by contract of marriaye,' Bourdon also says — " " A fig for Bourdon, and all sich drones ! I want my gift made revocable. Dame La C lance's is not ! I know by long experience, with my dear/ev* Be'dard, how necessary it is to hold the reins tight with the men. Antoine is a good boy, but he will be all the better for a careful mother-in- law's supervision ? " Master Pothier rubbed the top of his wig with his fore- finger. " Are you sure, Dame, that Antoine La Chance will wear the bridle easily ? " " Assuredly ! I should like to see son-in-law of mine who would not ! Besides, Antoine is in the humor just now to refuse nothing for sake of Zoe. Have you men- tioned the children, Master Pothier ? I do not intend to let Dame La Chance control the children any more than Zoe and Antoine." " I have made you iutrice perpetuelle, as we say in the court, and here it is," said he placing the tip of his fin- ger on a certain line in the document. Zoe looked down and blushed to her finger ends. She presently rallied and said with some spirit — "Never mind them, Master Pothier ! Don't put them in the con- tract ! Let Antoine have something to say about them. He would take me without a dower, I know, and time enough to remind him about children when they come." " Take you without dower ! Zoe Be'dard ! you must be mad!" exclaimed the Dame, in great heat. "No girl in New France can marry without a dower, if it be only a pot and a bedstead ! You forget too that the dower is given not so much for you, as to keep up the credit of the family. As well be married without a ring ! Without a dower, in- deed ! " " Or without a contract written by a notary, signed, sf i Tours — not till to-day. Hunc! hand hoc! I shall be jolted to jelly ! Hunc! hanc! hoc!" Philibert laughed at the classical reminiscences of his guide ; but, fearing that Pothier might fall off his horse, which he straddled like a hay fork, he stopped to allow the worthy notary to recover his breath and temper. " I hope the world appreciates your learning and talent, and that it uses you more gently than that horse of yours/ remarked he 48 THE CHI EN HOR. " Oh, your Honor ! it is kin i of you to re : n up by the way. I find no fault with the world if it find none with me. My philosophy is this, that the world is as men make it." " As the old saying is : — ' To lend, or to spend, or to give in, 'Tis a very good world that we live in ; But to borrow, or beg, or get a man's own, 'Tis the very worst world that ever was known.' And you consider yourself in the latter category, Maste? Pothier ? " Philibert spoke doubtingly, for a more self- complacent face than his companion's he never saw — every wrinkle trembled with mirth : eyes, cheeks, chin, and brows surrounded that jolly red nose of his like a group of gay boys round a bon-fire. " Oh, I am content, your Honor ! We notaries are privileged to wear furred cloaks in the Palais de Justice, and black robes in the country when we can get them ! — Look here at my robe of dignity ! " He held up the tattered tail of his gown with a ludicrous air." The pro- fession of notary is meat, drink and lodging : every man's house is free to me — his bed and board I share, and there is neither wedding, christening, nor funeral in ten parishes that can go *on without me ; Governors and Intendants flourish and fall, but Jean Pothier dit Robin, the itinerant notary, lives merrily : men may do without bread, but they will not live without law — at least, in this noble litigious New Fiance of ours." " Your profession seems quite ind'spensable then 1 " re- marked Philibert. " Indispensable ! I should think so ! Without proper 'ates the world would soon come to an end, as did Adam's happiness in Eden, for want of a notary." " A notary, Master Pothier ? " " Yes, your Honor. It is clear that Adam lost his first estate de usis et fructibus in the Garden of Eden, simply because there was no notary to draw up for him an inde- feasable lease. Why, he had not even a bail a chaptal (a chattel mortgage) over the beasts he had himself named ! " " Ah ! " replied Philibert smiling, " I thought Adam lost his estate through a cunning not ary, who persuaded his wife to break the lease he held; ani poor Adam loaf BEAUMANOIR. 49 possession because he could not find a second notary to defend his title." " Hum ! that might be ; b -t judgment went by default, as I have read. It would be different now. There are notaries in New France and Old, capable of beating Lucifer himself in a process for either soul, body, or estate ! But, thank fortune, we are out of this thick forest now." The travellers had reached the other verge of the forest of Beaumanoir. . A broad plain dotted with clumps of fair trees lay spread out in a royal domain, overlooked by a steep, wooded mountain. A silvery brook crossed by a rustic bridge ran through the park. In the centre was a huge cluster of gardens and patriarchal trees, out of the midst of which rose the steep roof, chimneys, and gilded vanes, flashing in the sun, of the Chateau of Beaumanoir. The Chateau was a long, heavy structure of stone, gabled and pointed in the style of the preceding century- strong enough for defence, and elegant enough for the abode of the Royal Intendant of New France. It had been built some four-score years previously, by the Intendant Jean Talon, as a quiet retreat when tired with the impor- tunities of friends or the persecution of enemies, or dis- gusted with the cold indifference of the Court to his statesmanlike plans for the colonization of New France. Here he loved to retire from the city, and, in the com- panionship of a few chosen friends, talk of the splendid literature of the age of Louis XIV., or discuss the new philosophy that was everywhere springing up in Europe. Wit! in the walls of the Chateau of Beaumanoir had the Sieur Joliet recounted the story of his adventurous iravels, and Father Marquette confirmed the vague rumors that had long circulated in the colony of a wonderful river called the " Father of Waters," that flowed southwards Into the Gulf of Mexico. Here, too, had the gallant La Salle taken counsel of his friend and patron, Talon, when he set off to explore the great river Mississippi, seen by Joliet and Marquette, and claim it by right of discovery as the possession of F ance. A short distance from the Chateau rose a tower of rough masonry — crenellated on top and loop-holed on the sides — which had been built as a place of defence and refuge during the Indian wars of the preceding century. Often had the prowling bands of Iroquois turned away 4 5° THE CHIEN D'OR. baffled and dismayed at the sight of the little fortalice sur- mounted by a culverin or two, which used to give the alarm of invasion to the colonists on the slopes of Bourg Royal, and to the dwellers along the wild banks of the Montmorency. The tower was now disused, and partly dilapidated, but many wonderful tales existed among the neighboring habitans of a secret passage that communicated with the vaults of the Chateau ; but no one .had ever seen the pas- sage — still less been bold enough to explore it had they found it, for it was guarded by a Loup Garon that was the terror of children old and young, as they crowded close together round the blazing fire on winter nights, and repeated old legends of Brittany and Normandy, altered to fit the wild scenes of the New World. Colonel Philibert and Master Pothier rode up the broad avenue that led to the Chateau, and halted at the main gate — set in a lofty hedge of evergreens, cut into fantastic shapes, after the fashion of the Luxembourg. Within the gate a vast and glowing garden was seen — all squares, circles and polygons. The beds were laden with flowers shedding delicious odors on the morning air as it floated by, while the ear was soothed by the hum of bees and the songs of birds revelling in the bright sunshine. Above the hedge appeared the tops of heavily lade*i jruit trees, brought from France and planted by Talon : Cherries red as the lips of Breton maidens, plums of Gascony, Norman apples, with pears from the glorious valleys of the Rhone. The bending branches were just transmuting their green unripeness into scarlet, gold, and purple, the imperial colors of Nature when crowned for the f estival of autumn. A lofty dove-cote, surmounted by a glittering vane, curning and flashing with every shift of the wind, stood near the Chateau. It was the home of a whole colony of snow- white pigeons, which fluttered in and out of it, wheeled in circles round the tall chimney stacks, or strutted, cooing and bowing together, on the high roof of the Chateau, a picture of innocence and happiness. But neither happiness nor innocence was suggested by the look of the Chateau itself, as it stood bathed in bright sunshine. Its great doors were close shut in the face of all the beauty of the world without. Its raullioned windows. BEAUMANDIH. i» that should have stood wide open to et in the radiance and freshness of morning, were closely blinded, like eyes wickedly shut against God's light that beat upon them, vainly seeking entrarce. Outside all was still, the song of birds and the rustle of leaves alone met the ear, neither man nor beast was stirring to challenge Colonel Philibert's approach ; but long ere he reached the door of the Chateau, a din of voices within, a wild medley of shouts, song and laughter, a clatter of wine cups, and pealing notes of violins struck him with amazement and disgust. He distinguished drunken voices singing snatches of bacchanalian songs, while now and then stentorian mouths called for fresh brimmers and new toasts were drunk with uproarious applause. The Chateau seemed a very pandemonium of riot and revelry, that prolonged the night into the day, and defied the very order of nature by its audacious disregard of all decency of time, place and circumstance. " In God's name, what means all this, Master Pothier ?" exclaimed Philibert, as they hastily dismounted, and tying their horses to a tree, entered the broad walk that led ti- the terrace. " That concert going on, your honor ?" Master Pothiei shook his head to express disapproval and smiled to ex- press his inborn sympathy with feasting and good fellow- ship. " That, yovx honor, is the heel of the hunt, the hanging up of the antlers of the stag by the gay chasseurs who are visiting the Intendant." " A hunting party you mean ? To think that men could stand such brutishness, even to please the Intendant ! " " Stand I your honor. I wager my gown that most of the chasseurs are lying under the table by this time, although by the noise they make, it must be allowed there are some burly fellows upon their legs yet, who keep the wine flow- ing like the cow of Montmorency." " 'Tis horrible ! 'tis damnable !" Philibert grew pale with passion and struck his thigh with his palm, as was his wont when very angry. " Rioting in drunkenness when the Colony demands the cool head, the strong aim, and the true heart of every man among us I Oh, my country ! my dear country ! what fate is thine to expect when men like these are thy rulers ? " " Your honor must be a stranger in New France or you 52 THE CHIEN DOR. would not express such hasty, honest sentiments, upon th« Intendant's hospitality. It is not the fashion except among plain spoken, habit am who always talk downright Norman." Master Pothier looked approvingly at Colonel Philibert, who, listening with indignant ears, scarcely heeded his guide. ' " That is a jolly song, your honor," continued Pothier, waiving one hand in cadence to a ditty in praise of wine, which a loud voice was heard singing in the Chateau, ac- companied by a rousing chorus which startled the very pigeons on the roof and chimney-stacks. Colonel Philiberl recognized the song as one he had heard in the Quartiet Latin, during his student life in Paris. He fancied he re cognized the voice also. " Pour des vins de prix Vendons tous nos livres! C'est peu d' etre gris Amis soyons ivres 1 Bon. La Faridondaine I Gai. La Faridond^! A roar of voices and a clash of glasses followed the re frain. Master Pothier's eyes winked and blinked in sym pathy. The old notary stood on tiptoe, with outspread palms as with os rotundum he threw in a few notes of his own to fill up the chorus. Philibert cast upon his guide a look of scorn, biting his lip angrily. " Go," said he, " knock at the door — it needs God's thunder to break in upon that infamous orgie — say that Colonel Philibert brings orders from His Excellency the Governor to the Chevalier Intendant." " And be served with a writ of ejectment ! Pardon me ! Be not angry, sir," pleaded Pothier supplicatingly. " I dare not knock at the door when they are at the devil's mass inside. The valets! I know them all! they would duck me in the brook, or drag me into the hall, to make sport for the Philistines. And I am not much of a Samson your honor. I could not pull the Chateau down upon their heads, — I wish I coul 1 ! " Master Pothier's fears did not appear ill-grounded to Philibert as a fresh burst of drunken uproar assailed his ears. " Wait my return, ' said he, " I will knock on the THE INTENDANT BIGOT. ,* door myself." He left his guide, ran up the broad stone iteps, and knocked loudly upon the door again and again I he tried it at last, and to his surprise, found it unlatched, he pushed it open, no servitor appearing to admit him. Colonel Philibert went boldly in. A blaze of light almost dazzled his eves. The Chateau was lit up with lamps and candelabra in every part. The bright rays of the sun beat in vain for admittance upon the closed doors and blinded windows ; but the splendor of midnight oil pervaded the interior of the stately mansion, making an artificial night that prolonged the wild orgie of the Intendant into the hours of day. CHAPTER VII. THE INTENDANT BIGOT. The Chateau of Beaumanoir had, since the advent of the Intendant Bigot, been the scene of many a festive revelry that matched in bacchanalian frenzy, the wild orgies of the Regency, and the present debaucheries of Croisy, and thepetits appartei?iens of Versailles. Its splendor, its luxury, its riotous feasts lasting without intermission sometimes for days, were the themes of wonder and disgust to the unso- phisicated people of New France, and of endless compari- son between the extravagance of the royal Intendant, and the simple manners and inflexible morals of the Governor General. The great hall of the Chateau, the scene of the gorgeous feasts of the Intendant, was brilliantly illuminated with silver lamps, glowing like globes of sunlight as they hung from the lofty ceiling, upon which was painted a fresco of the apotheosis of Louis XIV., where the Grand Monarque was surrounded by a cloud of Condes, Orleanois and Bour bor.j of near and more remote consanguinity. At the head of the room hung a full length portrait of the Marquise de Pompadour, the mistress of Louis XV., and the friend and patroness of the Intendant Bgot, her bold voluptuous beauty seemed well fitted to be the presiding genius of his bouse. The walls bo/ a many other paintings of artistic 54 THE CHIEX D'OR. and historic value. The King and Queen ; the dark -eyed Montespan ; the crafty Maintenon, and the pensive beauty of Louise de la Valiere, the only mistress of Louis XIV. who loved him for his own sake, and whose portrait, copied from this picture, may still be seen in the Chapel of the Ursulines of Quebec, where the fair Louise is represented as St. Thais kneeling at prayer among the nuns. The table in the great hall, a masterpiece of workman- ship, was made of a dark Canadian wood then newly intro- duced, and stretched the length of the hall. A massive gold epergne of choicest Italian art, the gift of La Pompadour, stood on the centre of the table. It represfnted Bacchus enthroned on a tun of wine, presenting flowing cups to a dance of fauns and satyrs. Silver cups of Venetian sculpture, and goblets of Bohe- mian manufacture, sparkled like stars upon the brilliant table — brimming over with the gold and ruby vintages of France and Spain — or lay overturned amid pools of wine that ran down upon the velvet carpet. Dishes of Parmesan cheese, caviare and other provocatives to thirst stood upon the table, imid vases of flowers and baskets of the choicest fruits of he Antilles. Round this magnificent table sat a score or more of revellers — in the garb of gentlemen, but all in disorder and soiled with wine, — their countenances were inflamed, their eyes red and fiery, their tongues loose and loquacious. Here and there a vacant or overturned chair showed where a guest had fallen in the debauch and been carried off by the valets, who in gorgeous liveries waited on the table. A band of musicians sat up in a gallery at the end of the hall and filled the pauses of the riotous feast with the ravish- ing strains of Lulli and Destouches. At the head of the table, first in place as in rank, sat Francois Bigot, Intendant of New France. His low, well- set figure, dark hair, small keen black eyes and swarthj features full of fire and animation bespoke his Gascon blood. His countenance was far from comely — nay, when in re- pose, even ugly and repulsive, — but his eyes were magnets that drew men's looks towards him, for in them lay the force of a powerful will and a depth and subtlety of intellect that made men fear, if they could not love him. Yet when he chose — and it vsas his usual mood — to exercise his bland Ishraents on men, he rarely failed to captivate them, while. THE INTENLANT BIGOT. 55 his pleasant wit, courtly w xysand natural gallantry towards women, exercised with the polished seductiveness he had learned in the court of Louis XV., made Francois Bigot the most plausible and dangerous man in New France. He was fond of wine and music, passionate y addicted to gambling, and devoted to the pleasant vices that weie rampant in the Court of France, finely educated, able in the conduct of affairs, and fertile in expedients to accom- plish his ends. Frangois Bigot might have saved New France, had he been honest as he was clever ; but he was unprincipled and corrupt. No conscience checked his ambition or his love of pleasure. He ruined New France for the sake of himself and his patroness, and the crowd of courtiers and frail beauties who surrounded the king, and whose arts and influence kept him in his high office despite all the efforts of the Honnetes gens, the good and true men of the Colony, to remove him. He had already ruined and lost the ancient Colony of Acadia, through his defrauds and malversations as Chief Commissary of the Army, and, instead of trial and punish- ment, had lately been exalted to the higher and still more important office of Royal Intendant of New France. On the right of the Intendant sat his bosom friend, the Sieur Cadet, a large, sensual man, with twinkling grey eyes, diick nose and full red lips. His broad face, flushed with vine, glowed like the harvest moon rising above the horizon. Cadet had, it was said, been a butcher in Quebec. He was now, for the misfortune of his country, Chief Commis- sary of the Army, and a close confederate of the Inten dant. On the left of the Intendant sat his secretary, De Pean, crafty and unscrupulous, a parasite too, who flattered his master and ministered to his pleasures. De Pean was a military man and not a bad soldier in the field ; but he loved gain better than glory, and amassed an enormous fortune out of the impoverishment of his country. Le Mercier too was there, Commandant of Artillery, a brave officer, but a bad man ; Varin, a proud arrogant libertine, Commissary of Montreal, who outdid Bigot in rapine and Cadet in coarseness ; De Breard, Comptroller of the Marine, a worthy associate of Penisault, whose pinched features and cunning leer were in keeping with his ipiDortant office of chief manager of the Friponne ; Perrault, s 6 THE CHIEN D'OR. D' Estebe, Morin and Vergor, all creatures of thft Inten dant, swelled the roll of infamy, as partners of the Grand Company of Associates trading in New France, as their charter named them — the "Grand Company of Thieves," as the people in their plain Norman called them, who rob bed them in the King's name, and under pretence of maintaining the war, passed the most arbitrary decrees, the only object of which was to enrich themselves and theii higher patrons at the Court of Versailles. The rest of the company seated round the table com- prised a number of dissolute Seigneurs and gallants of fashion about town — men of great wants and great extra- vagance, just the class so quaintly described by Charle- voix, a quarter of a century previous, as " gentlemen thoroughly versed in the most elegant and agreeable modes of spending money, but greatly at a loss how to obtain it." Among the gay young Seigneurs who had been drawn into the vortex of Bigot's splendid dissipation, was the brave, handsome Le Gardeur De Repentigny — a captain of the Royal Marine, a colonial corps recently embodied at Quebec. In general form and feature Le Gardeur was a manly reflex of his beautiful sister Amelie ; but his countenance was marred with traces of debauchery. His face was inflamed, and his dark eyes, so like his sister's, by nature tender and true, were now glittering with the adder tongues of the cursed wine serpent. Taking the cue from Bigot, Le Gardeur responded madly to the challenges to drink from all around him. Wine was now flooding every brain, and the table was one scene of riotous debauch. " Fill up again, Le Gardeur! " exclaimed the Intendant, with a loud and still clear voice ; " the lying clock says it is day — broad day, but neither cock crows nor day dawns in the Chateau of Beaumanoir, save at the will of its master and his merry guests ! Fill up, companions all 1 The lamp-light in the wine cup is brighter than the clearest sun that ever shone ! " " Bravo Bigot ! name your toast, and we will pledge it till the seven stars count fourteen ! " replied Le Gar- deur, looking lazily at the grea t clock in the hall. " I see four clocks in the ro om, and every one of them lies if it says it is day 1 " THE 1NTEKDANT BIGOT. 57 "You are mending, Le Gardeur De Repentignyl You »re worthy to belong to the Grand Company ! But ycu sha;l have my toast. We have drank it twenty times already, but it will stand drinking twenty times more. It is the best prologue to wine ever devised by wit of man — a woman — " " And the best epilogue, too, Bigot ! " interjected Varin, visibly drunk ; " but let us have the toast — my cur is waiting." " Well, fill up all, then ; and we will drink the heaith, wealth, and love by stealth, of tUe jolliest dame in sunny France — the Marquise de Pompadour ! " " La Pompadour ! La Pompadour ! " Every tongue repeated the name, the goblets were drained to the bot- toms, and a thunder of applause and clattering of glasses followed the toast of the mistress of Louis XV., who was the special protectress of the Grand Company — a goodly share of whose profits in the monopoly of trade in New France was thrown into the lap of the powerful favorite. " Come, Varin ! your turn now ! " cried Bigot, turning to the Commissary ; " a toast for Ville Marie ! Merry Montreal 1 where they eat like rats of Poitou, and drink till they ring the fire bells, as the Bordelais did to welcome the collectors of the gabelle. The Montrealers have not rung the fire bells yet against you, Varin, but they will by and by ! " Varin filled his cup with an unsteady hand until it ran over, and, propping his body against the table as he stood up, replied : " A toast for Ville Marie ! and our friends in need ! — the blue caps of the Richelieu ! " This was in allusion to a recent ordinance of the Intendant, authorizing him to seize all the corn in store at Montreal and in the surrounding country — under pretence of supplying the army, and really to secure the monopoly of it for the Grand Company." The toast was drunk amid rapturous applause. " Well said, Varin ! " exclaimed Bigot ; " that toast implied both business and pleasure — the business was to sweep out the granges of the farmers : the pleasure is to drink in honor of your success." " My foragers sweep clean ! " said Varin, resuming hi6 seat, and looking under his hand to steady his gaze. " Better brooms were never made in Besancon. The jg THE CHIEN &OR country is swep; as clean as a ball room. Your Excet lency and the Marquise might lead the dance over it, and not a straw lie in your way ! " " And did you manage it without a fight, Varin r " asked the Sieur d'Estebe, with a half sneer. " Fight ! Why fight ? The habitans will never resist the King's name. We conjure the devil down with that. When we skin our eels we don't begin at the tail ! If we did the habitans would be like the eels of Melun — cry out before they were hurt. No ! no ! d'Estebe ! We are more polite in Ville Marie. We tell them the King's troops need the corn. They doff their caps, and, with tears in their eyes, say, " Monsieur Le Commissaire, the King can have all we possess, and ourselves too, if he will only save Canada from the Bostonnais. This is better than stealing the honey and killing the bees that made it d'Estebe ! " "But what became of the families of the habitans after this swoop of your foragers ? " asked the Seigneur De Beauce, a country gentleman who retained a few honor- able ideas floating on top of the wine he had swallowed. " Oh ! the families — that is, the women and children, for we took the men for the army. You see, De Beauce," replied Varin, with a mocking air, as he crossed his thumbs like a peasant of Languedoc when he wishes to inspire belief in his words, " the families have to do what the gentlemen of Beauce practise in times of scarcity — break- fast by gaping ! or they can eat wind like the people of Poitou. It will make them spit clean ! " De Beauce was irritated at the mocking sign and the proverbial allusion to the ga^injr of the people of Beauce. He started up in wrath, and shining his fist on the table, " Monsieur Varin ! " cried he. '" do not cross your thumbs at me, or I will cut them oft! L°tme tell you the gentlemen of Beauce do not breakfast on gaping, but have plenty of corn to stuff even a Commissary ot Montreal ! " The Sieur Le Mercier, at a sign from Bigot interposed to-'Stop the rising quarrel. " Don't mind Varin.'" said he, whispering to De Beauce ; " he is drunk, and t 'iw will anger the Intendant. Wait, and by and by you sna.*' toast Varin as the chief baker of Pharoah, who got handed because he stole tr-2 King's cor THE INTEND A A r T I rGOT. 59 * As he deserves to be for his insult to the gentlomen of Beauce," insinuated Bigot, leaning over to his angry guest, at the same time winking good humoredly to Varin. " Come now De Beauce, friends all — amantium irce, you know, which is Latin for love — and I will sing you a stave in praise of this good wine,« which is better than Bacchus ever drank." The Intendant rose up, and holding a brim- ming glass in his hand, chanted in full musical voice a favorite ditty of the day as a ready mode of restoring har- mony among the company : — "Amis! dans ma bouteille, Voila le vin de France ! C'est le bon vin qui danse ia. C'est le bon vin qui danse. Gai Ion la ! Vive la lirette ! Des Fillettes II y en aura ! " Viveni les Fillettes / The girls of Quebec ? — first in beauty last in love, and nowhere in scorn of a gallant worthy of them ! " continued Bigot. " What say you, De Pean ? Are you not prepared to toast the belles of Quebec? " " That I am, your Excellency ! " De Pean was un- steady upon his feet as he rose to respond to the Intendant's challenge. He pot-valiantly drew his sword and laid it on the table. "I will call on the honorable company to drink this toast upon their knees, and there is my sword to cut the legs off any gentleman who will not kneel down and drink a full cup to the bright eyes of the belle of Quebec — the incomparable Angeiique des Meloises ! " The toast suited their mood. ' Every one filled up his • Tip in honor of a beauty so universally admired. " Kneel down all ! " cried the Intendant, " or De Peau will hamstring us ! " All knelt down with a clash — ^some of them unable to rise again. " We will drink to the Angdlique charms of the fair Des Meloises. Come now, all together ! — as the jolly Dutchmen of Albany say, " Upp teys over I " Such of the company as were able, resumed their seats amid great laughter and confusion. When the Sieur Deschenaux, a reckless VDung gallant, ablaze with wine and excitement, stood up leaning against the table, his fingers dabbled in his wine cup as he addressed them, but he did not notice to THE C HI EN D' OR " We have drank with all the honors," said he, " to th« bright eyes of the belle of Q lebec. I call on every gentle- man now, to drink to the still brighter eyes of the belle of New France ! " " Who is she ? Name ! name ! " shouted a dozen voices ; " who is the belle of New France ? " " Who is she ? Why, who can she be but the fail Angelique whom we have just honored?" replied De Pean hotly, jealous of any precedence in that quarter. "Tut!" cried Deschenaux, "you compare glow worms with evening stars when you pretend to match Ange'lique Des Meloises with the lady I propose to honor ! I call for full brimmers — Cardinal's hats ! — in honor of the belle of New France — the fair Ame'lie De Repentigny 1 " Le Gardeur de Repentigny was sitting leaning on his elbow, his face beaming with jollity as he waited, with a full cup, for Deschenaux's toast. But no sooner did he hear the name of his sister from those lips than he sprang up as though a serpent had bit him. He hurled his goblet at the head of Deschenaux, with a fierce imprecation and drew his sword as he rushed towards him. " A thousand lightnings strike you ! How dare you pollute that holy name, Deschenaux ? Retract that toast in- stantly, or you shall drink it in blood ; — retract, I say ! " The guests rose to their feet in terrible uproar. Le Gardeur struggled violently to break through a number of those who interposed between him and Deschenaux, who, roused to frenzy by the insult from Le Gardeur, had also drawn his sword and stood ready to receive the assault of his antagonist. The Intendant, whose courage and presence of mind never forsook him, pulled Deschenaux down upon his seat and held fast his sword arm, shouting in his ear : " Are you mad, Deschenaux ? You knew she was his sister, and how he worships her ! Retract the toast — it was inopportune ! Besides, recollect, we want to win over De Repentigny to the Grand Company 1 " Deschenaux struggled for a minute, but the influence of the Intendant was all powerful over him. He gave way. "Damn De Repentigny," said he, "I only meant to do honor to the pretty witch. Who would have expected him to take it up in that manner? " " Any one who knows him besides," continued the THE INTENDANT BIGOT. £l Intendant, " If vou must toast his sister, wait till we get him body and soul made over to the Grand Company, and then he will care no more for his sister's fame than you do for yours." " But the insult ! He has drawn blood with the gob- let," said Deschenaux, wiping his forehead with his fingers " I cannot pardon that ! " " Tut, tut ; fight him another day. But you shall not fight here ! Cadet and Le Mercier have pinned the young Bayard, I see ; so you have a chance to do the honorable, Deschenaux, go to him, retract the toast and say you had forgotten the fair lady was his sister." Deschenaux swallowed his wrath, rose up and sheathed his sword. Taking the Intendant by the arm he went up to Le Gardeur, who was still trying to advance. Desche- naux held up his hand deprecatingly, " Le Gardeur," said he, with an air of apparent contrition, " I was wrong to of- fer that toast. I had forgotten the fair lady was your sis- ter. I retract the toast, since it is disagreeable to you, al- though all would have been proud to drink it." Le Gardeau was as hard to appease as he was easy to excite to anger. He still held his drawn sword in his hand. " Come ! " cried Bigot, " you are as hard to please as Villiers Vendome, whom the king himself could not satisfy. Deschenaux says he is sorry. A gentleman cannot say more. So shake hands and be friends, De Repentigny." Impervious to threats and often to reason, Le Gardeur could not resist an appeal to his generosity. He sheathed his sword and held out his hand with frank forgiveness. " Your apology is ample, Sieur Desche- naux. I am satisfied you meant no affront to my sister ! It is my weak point, Messieurs," continued he, looking firmly at the company, ready to break out had he detected the shadow of a sneer upon any one's countenance. " I honor her as I do the queen of Heaven. Neither of their names ought to be spoken here." " Well said ! Le Gardeur," exclaimed the Intendant. "That's right, shake hands and be friends again. Blessed are quarrels that lead to reconciliation, and the washing ont of feuds in wine. Take your seats, gentlemen." There was a general scramble back to the table. Bigot stood up in renewed force. 6a THE CHI EN HOR. "Valets ! " cried he, "bring in a >.. the largest caps ! We will drink a toast five fathoms deep, in water of life- strong enough to melt Cleopatra's pearls, and to a jollier dame than Egypt's queen. But first we will make I,e Gar deur De Repentigny free of the guild of noble partners oi the company of adventurers trading in New France." The valets flew in and out. In a few moments the tabh was replenished with huge drinking cups, silver flagons, and all the heavy impedimenta of the army of Bacchus. " You are willing to become one of us, and enter the jolly guild of the Grand Company ? " exclaimed the In- tendant, taking Le Gardeur by the'hand. '■ Yes, I am a stranger and you may take me in. I claim admission," replied Le Gardeur with drunken gravi- ty, " and by St. Pigot, I will be true to the guild ! " Bigot kissed him on both cheeks. " By the boot of St. Benoit, you speak like the king of Yvetot. Le Gar- deur de Repentigny, you are fit to wear fur in the Court of Burgundy." " You can measure my foot, Bigot," replied Le Gar- deur, " and satisfy the company that I am able to wear the boot of St. Benoit." " By jolly St. Chinon, and you shall wear it, Le Gar- deur," exclaimed Bigot, handing him a quart flagon of wine, which Le Gardeur drank without drawing breath. " That boot fits," shouted the Intendant exultingly : " now for the chant ! I will lead. Stop the breath of any one who will not join in the chorus." The Intendant in great voice led off a macaronic verse of Moliere, that had often made merry the orgies of Ver- sailles : — " Bene, bene, bene, respondere I Dignus, digaenus es, entrare In nostro loeto corpore I " A tintamarre of voices, and a jingle of glasses accom- panied the violins and tambours de basque, as the com- pany stood up and sang the song, winding up with a grand burst at the chorus : — "Vivat I vivat ! vivat I cent fois vivatl Novus socius qui tam bene parlat! Mille mille aun's et manget et bibat, Fripet et friponrat!' Tj/E IA TE.VDAA'T bigot. 6, fla.ids were shaken all round, congratulations, era Drawings and filthy kisses showered upon Le Gardeur to honor his admission as a partner of the Grand Company. "And now," continued Bigot, "we will drink a draught long as the bell rope of Notre Dame. Fill up brimmers of die quintessence of the grape, and drain them dry in honor of the Friponne ! " The name was electric. It was in the country a word jf opprobrium, but at Beaumanoir it was laughed at with true Gallic nonchalance. Indeed, to show their scorn of public opinion, the Grand Company had lately launched a new ship upon the great lakes to carry on the fur trade, and had appropriately and mockingly named her, " La Fri- ponne." "Let them laugh that win!" said Bigot one day to D'Estebe, who was in a rage at having heard the hateful epithet used by a plain spoken habitan. " We accept the name and can withstand the blame. If they say more I will paint it in letters a yard long upon the front of the Palais, and make it the horn book from which the rustics shall take their first lesson in reading and spelling." The toast of the Friponne! was drunk with applause, followed by a wild Bacchanalian song — The Sieur Morin had been a merchant in Bordeaux whose bond was held in as little value as his word. He had lately removed to New France, transferred the bulk of his merchandize to the Friponne, and become an active agent of the Grand Company. " La Friponne ! " cried he, " I have drunk success to her with all my heart and throat. But I say she will never wear a night-cap and sleep quietly in our arms, until we muzzle the Golden Dog, that barks by night and by day in the Rue Buade." "That is true, Morin !" interrupted Varin, roused to wrath at the men ion of the Golden Dog. "The grand company will never know peace until we send the Bour- geois, his master, back to the Bastille. The Golden Dog is — ." " Damn the Golden Dog ! " exclaimed Bigot, passion- ately. " Why do you utter his name, Varin, to sour our wine ? I hope one day to pull down the Dog, as well as tne whole kennel of the insolett Bourgeois." Then, as was his wont, concealing his feelings under a mocking $4 THE ZHIEN D'OR. gibe, " Varin," said he, " they say that is your marrow mm the Golden Dog is gnaw'ng, ha! ha ! ha! " 11 More people believe it is your Excellency's I " Var/ji knew he was right, but aware of Bigot's touchiness on thai point, added, as is the wont of panderers to great men : " It is either yours or the Cardinal's." " Let it be the Cardinal's, then ! He is still in purga- tory, and will wait there the arrival of the Bourgeois, to bal- ance accounts with him." Bigot hated the Bourgeois Philibert as one hates the man he has injured. Bigot had been instrumental in his banishment years ago from France, when the bold Norman Count defended the persecuted Jansenists in the Parlia- ment of Rouen. The Intendant hated him now for his wealth and prosperity in New France. But his wrath turned to fury when he saw the tablet of the Golden Dog, with its taunting insciiption, glaring upon the front of the Maga- zine in the Rue Buade. Bigot felt the full meaning and significance of the words that burned into his soul, and for which he hoped one day to be revenged. " Confusion to the whole litter of the Golden Dog and that is the party of the Honnetes gens ! " cried he. "But for that canting savant, who plays the Governor here, I would pull down the sign and hang its master up in its stead to-morrow ! " The company now grew still more hilarious and noisy in their cups. Few paid attention to what the Intendant was saying. But De Repentigny heard him utter the words : u Oh, for men who dare do men's deeds ! " He caught the eye of De Repentigny and added, " But we are all cowards in the Grand Company, and are afraid of the Bourgeois." The wine was bubbling in the brain of Le Gardeur. He scarcely knew what the Intendant said, but he caught the last words. " Whom do you call cowards, Chevalier ? I have join- ed the Grand Company. If the rest are cowards, I am not ! I stand ready to pluck the perruque off the head of any man in New France, and carry it on my sword to the Pla^e d'Armes, where I will challenge all the world to come ana take it." * Pish I that is nothing ! give me man's work. I want to see the partner in th i Grand Company who dare puli iown the Golden Dog." THE INTEND ANT B/GOT 65 M I dare f and I dare ! " ei claimed a dozen voices at oace in response to the appeal of the Intendanr, who craft- ily meant his challenge to ensnare only Le Gardeur. " And I dare ; and I will too ! if you wish it, Cheva lier ! " shouted Le Gardeur, mad with wine and quite ob- livious of the thousand claims of the father of his friend Pierre Philibert upon him. " I take you at your word, Le Gardeur ! and bind your honor to it in the presence of all these gentlemen," said Bigot with a look of intense satisfaction. "When shall it be done — to day? " Le Gardeur seem- ed ready to pluck the moon from the sky in his present state of ecstasy. " Why no, not to-day ! — not before the pear is ripe will we pluck it. Your word of honor will keep till then ? " Bigot was in great glee over tha- success of his strata- gem to entrap De Repentigny. " It will keep a thousand years ! " replied Le Gardeur, amid a fresh outburst of merriment round the board which culminated in a shameless song, fit only for a revel of satyrs. The Sieur Cadet lolled lazily in his chair, his eyes blinking with a sleepy leer. " We are getting stupidly drunk, Bigot," said he : " we want something new to rouse us all to fresh life. Will you let me offer a toast ? " " Go on, Cadet ! offer what toast you please. There is nothing in heaven, hell, or upon earth that I wont drink co for your sake." " I want you to drink it on your knees, Bigot ! pledge rne that and fill your biggest cup." " We will drink it on all fours if you like ! come, oat with your toast, Cadet ; you are as long over it as Father Glapion's sermcu in Lent ! and it will be as interesting I dare say ! " " Well, Chevalier, the Grand Company, after toasting all the beauties of Quebec, desire to drink the health of the fair mistress of Beaumanoir, and in her presence too ! " said Cadet with owlish gravity. Bigot started, drunk and reckless as he was, he did not like his secret to be divu Iged. He was angry with Cadet for referring to it in the presence of so mcny who knew not that a strange lady was residing at Beaumanoir. He was too thoroughly a libertine of the period to fee) anj 5 66 THE CHIEN £>'C R moral compunction for any excess he commits d. He was habitually more ready to glory over his conquests, than to deny or extenuate them But in this case he had. to the surprise of Cadet, been very reticent and shy of speaking of this lady even to him. " They say she is a miracle of beauty, Bigot ! " contin- ued Cadet, " and that you are so jealous of the charms of your belle Gabrielle, that you are afraid to show her to your best friends." " My belle Gabrielle, is at liberty to go where she pleases, Cadet ! " Bigot saw the absurdity of anger, but he felt it nevertheless. " She chooses not to leave her bower, to look even on you, Cadet ! I warrant you she has not slept all night, listening to your infernal din." " Then, I hope you will allow us to go and beg pardon on our knees for disturbing her rest. What say the good company ? " " Agreed, agreed ! " was the general response, and al' pressed the Intendant vociferously to allow them to see the fair mistress of Beaumanoir, about whose beauty so much had been privately talked among Bigot's intimate asso- ciates. Varin, however, proposed that she should be brought into the hall. " Send her to us, O King," cried he, " we are nobles of Persia, and this is Shushan the palace, where we carouse according to the law of the Medes, seven days at a stretch. Let the king bring in Queen Vashti, to show her beauty to the princes and nobles of his court ! " Bigot, too full of wine to weigh scruples, yielded to the wish of his boon companions. He rose from his chair which in his absence was taken by Cadet. " Mind ! " said he, " if I bring her in, you shall show her every respect." " We will kiss the dust of her feet," answered Cadet, " and consider you the greatest king of a feast in New France or Old." Bigot, without further parley passed out of the hall, traversed a long corridor and entered an anteroom where he found Dame Tremblay, the old house- keeper, dozing on her chair. He roused her up and bade her go to the inner chamber to summon her mistress. The house-keeper rose in a moment at the voice of the Intendant. She was a comely dame, with a ruddy cheek, and an eye in her head th it looked inquisitively at hei CAROL// '£ DE S7 CAST/N. 67 master, as she arranged her cap, and threw back hei rathei gay ribbons. " I want your mistress up in the great hall I go sum- mon her at once," repeated the Intendant. The house-keeper curtseyed, but pressed her lips to- gether as it to prevent them from speaking in remon- strance. She went at once on her ungracious errand. CHAPTER VIII. CAROLINE DE ST. CASTIN. Dame Tremblay entered the suite of apartments and returned in a few moments, saying, " that her lady was not there but had gone down to the secret chamber to be, she supposed, more out of hearing of the noise which had dis- turbed her so much." " I will go find her then," replied the Intendant, " you may return to your own room, dame ! " He walked across the drawing-room to one of the gor- geous panels that decorated the wall, and touched a hid- den spring. A door flew open, disclosing a stair heavily carpeted that led down to the huge vaulted foundations of the chateau. He descended the stair with hasty though unsteady steps. It led to a spacious room, lighted with a gorgeous lamp that hung pendant in silver chains from the frescoed ceiling. The walls were richly tapestried with products of the looms of the Gobelins, representing the plains of Italy filled with sunshine where groves, temples and colonnades were pictured in endless vistas of beauty. The furniture of the chamber was of regal magnificence. Nothing that luxury could desire, or art furnish, had been spared in its adornment. On a sofa lay a guitar, and beside it a scarf and a dainty glove fit for the hand of the fairy queen. The Intendant looked eagerly round, as he entered this bright chamber of his fancy, but saw not its expected oc- cupant. A recess in the eep wal'. at the farther side of the room contained an oratory, with an altar and a crucifix upon it. The recess was parti) in the shade. But the 68 THE CB'EA D'OR. eyes of the Intendant discerned clearly enough the kneel ing, or rather the prostrate figure of Caroline de St. Castin. Her hands were clasped beneath her head, which was bow- ed to the ground. Her long black hair lay dishevelled over her back, as she lay in her white robe like the Angel of Sorrow, weeping and crying from the depths of her broken heart : '' Lamb of God, that taketh away the sins of the world, have mercy upon me ! " She was so absorbed in her grief that she did not notice the entrance of the In- tendant. Bigot stood still for a moment, stricken with awe at the spectacle of this lovely woman weeping by herself in the secret chamber. A look of something like pity stole into his eyes, he called her by name, ran to her, assisted her to rise, which she did slowly turning towards him thai weeping Madonna-like face, which haunts the ruins oi Beaumanoir to this day. She was of medium stature, slender and lissome, look- ing taller than she really was. Her features were chiselled with exquisite delicacy. Her hair of a raven blackness, and eyes of that dark lustre which reappears for genera- tions in the descendants of Europeans, who have mingled their blood with that of the Aborigines of the forest. The Indian eye is preserved as an heir loom, long after all memory of the Red stain has vanished from the traditions of the family. Her complexion was pale, naturally of a rich olive, but now through sorrow of a wan and bloodless hue — still very beautiful and more appealing than the rosiest complexion. Caroline de St. Castin was an Acadienne, of ancient and noble family, whose head and founder, the Baron de St. Castin, had married the beautiful daughter of the high chief of the Abenaquis. Her father's house — one of the most considerable in the Colony, had been the resort of the royal officers, civil and military, serving in Acadia. Caroline, the only daugh- ter of the noble house, had been reared in all the refine- ments and luxuries of the period, as became her rank and position both in France and hw native Province. In an evit hour for her happiness, this beautiful and ac- complished girl met the Chevalier Bigot, who as Chief Commissary of the Army, was one of the foremost of the Royal officers in Acadia. CAROLINE DE ST. CASTIN 69 His ready wit and graceful manners pleased and flat- tered the susceptible girl, not u>ed to the seductions of the polished courtesies of the Mother Land of France. She was of a joyous temper, gay, frank and confiding. Her father, immersed in public affairs, left her much to herself, nor, had he known it, would he have disapproved of the gallant courtesies of the Chevalier Bigot. For the Baron had the soul of honor, and dreamt every gentleman as well as him- self possessed it. Bigot, to do him justice, felt as sincere a regard for this beautiful, amiable girl as his nature was capable of enter- taining. In rank and fortune, she was more than his equal and left to himself, he would willingly have married her before he learned that his project of a marriage in the Colony, was scouted at Court. He had already offer- ed his love to Caroline de St. Castin, and won easily the gentle heart that was but too well disposed to receive his homage. Her trust went with her love. Earth was never so green, nor air so sweet, nor skies so bright and azure, as those of Caroline's wooing, on the shores of the beautiful bay of Minas. She loved this man with a passion that filled with ecstasy her whole being. She trusted his promises as she would have trusted God's. She loved him better than she loved herself — better than she loved God, or God's law ; and counted as a gain every loss she suffered for his sake, and for the affection she bore him. After some months spent in her charming society, a change came ever Bigot. He received formidable missives from his great patroness at Versailles, the Marquise de Pompadour, who had other matrimonial designs for him. Bigot was too slavish a courtier to resent her interference, nor was he honest enough to explain his position to his betrothed. He deferred his marriage. The exigencies of the war called him away. He had triumphed over a fond confiding woman ; but he had been trained among the dis- solute spirits of the Regency too thoroughly to feel more than a passing regret for a woman whom, probably he loved better chan any other of the victims of his licentious life. When he finally left Acadia a conquered Province hi the hands of the English, he also left behind him, the one true loving heart that believed in ais honor, and still prayed for his happiness. )° THE CHIEN D'OR. The days of Caroline's disillusion soon came ; shecoula not conceal from herself that she had been basely de- ceived and abandoned by the man she loved so ardently. She learned that Bigot had been elevated to the high office of lntendant of New France, but felt herself as utterly forgotten by him as the rose that had bloomed and wither- ed in her garden two summers ago. Her father had been summoned to France on the loss of the Colony ; and fearing to face him on his return, Car- oline suddenly left her home, and sought refuge in the forest among her far-off kindred, the red Abenaquis. The Indians welcomed her with joy and unbounded re- spect, recognizing her right to their devotion and obedience. They put upon her feet the mocassins of their tribe, and sent her with a trusty escort through the wilderness, to Quebec, where she hoped to find the lntendant ; not to re- proach him for his perfidy, (her gentle heart was too much subdued for that,) but to claim his protection, and if refused, to die at his door. It was under such circumstances that the beautiful high born Caroline de St. Castin became an inmate of Beau- manoir. She had passed the night of this wild debauch in a vigil of prayers, tears and lamentations over her sad lot, and over the degradation of Bigot by the life which she now knew he led. Sometimes her maddened fancy was ready to accuse Providence itself of cruelty and injustice. Sometimes magnifying her own sin, she was ready to think all earthly punishment upon herself as too light, and in- voked death and judgment as alone adequate to her fault. All night long she had knelt before the altar, asking for mercy and forgiveness. Sometimes starting to her feet in terror, as a fresh burst of revelry came rushing from the great Hall above, and shook the door of her secret cham- ber. But no one came to her help, no one looked in upon her desolation. She deemed herself utterly forgotten and forsaken of God and man. Occasionally she fancied she could distinguish the voice y\ the lntendant amid the drunken uproar, and she shud- dered at the infatuation which bound her very soul to this man ; and yet^when she questioned her heart, she knew that base as he was, all she had done and suffered for him, she would infallibly do again. Were her life to live over, she would repeat the fault of lcving this false, ungrateful man CAROLINE DE ST. CASTIN. 7» The prom se of marriage had been equivalent to marriage in her trust of him, and nothing but death could now di- vorce her from him. Hour after hour passed by, each seeming an age of suf fering. Her feelings were worked up to frenzy. She fan- cied she heard her father's angry voice calling her by name^ or she heard accusing angels jeering at her fall. She sank prostrate at last, in the abandonment of despair, calling upon God to put an end to her miserable life. Bigot raised her from the floor, with words of pity and sympathy. She turned on him a look of gratitude, which, had he been of stone, he must have felt it. But Bigot's words meant less than she fancied. He was still too intox- icated to reflect, or feel shame of his present errand. " Caroline !" said he, " what do you here ? This is the time to make merry — not to pray ! The honorable com- pany in the great Hall desire to pay their respects to the lady of Beaumanoir— come with me ! " He drew her hand through his arm with a courtly grace that seldom forsook him, even in his worst moments. Caro- line looked at him in a dazed manner, not comprehending his request. " Go with you, Francois you know I will; but where ? " " To the great Hall," repeated he, " my worthy guests desire to see you and to pay their respects k o the fair lady of Beaumanoir." It flashed upon her mind what he wanted. Her woman- ly pride was outraged as it had never been before, she withdrew her hand from his arm with shame and terror stamped on every feature. " Go up there ! Go to show myself to your guests ! " exclaimed she, with choking accents, as she stepped back a pace from him — " Oh, Francois Bigot, spare me that shame and humiliation, I am, I know, contemptible beyond human respect, but still — God help me ! I am not so vile as to be made a spectacle of infamy, to those drunken men, whom I hear clamoring for me, even now" " Pshaw! You think too much of the proprieties, Caro line ! " Bigot felt sensibly perplexed at the attitude she as- sumed. " Why ! The fairest dames of Paris, dressed as Hebes and Ganymedes. thought it a fine jest to wait on the Regent Duke of Orleans, and the Cardinal du Bois, in the gay days of the king's bachelorhood, and they do the sanw p TEE CHI EN D'OR. now when tie king gets up one of his great feasts at Choisy , so come sweetheart — come ! " He drew her tow ards the door. " Spare me, Francois ! " Caroline knelt at his feet, clasp- ing his hand and bathing it in tears — " Spare me ! " cried she. " Oh, would to God I had died, ere you came to com mand me to do what I cannot and will not do, Francois J " added she, clasping hard the hand of the Intendant, which she fancied relaxed somewhat of i s iron hardness. " I did not come to command you, Caroline ! but to bear the request of my guests. No, I do not even ask you on my account to go up to the great Hall. It is to please my guests only." Her tears and heart-rending appeal, be- gan to sober him. Bigot had not counted upon such a scene as this. " Oh, thanks, Francois, for that word ! you did not come to command my obedience in such a shameful thing. You had some small regard left for the unfortunate Caroline ; say you will not command me to go up there," added she, looking at him with eyes of pitiful pleading, such as no Italian art ever portrayed on the face of the sorrowing Madonna. " No," he replied, impatiently. " It was not I proposed it. It was Cadet. He is always a fool when the wine overflows, as I am too, or I would not have hearkened to him ! Still, Caroline, I have promised, and my guests will jeer me finely if I return without you." He thought she hesitated a moment in her resolve at this suggestion. * Come, for my sake, Caroline ! Do up that disordered hair ; I shall be proud of you, my Caroline. There is not a lady in New France can match you when you look your- self, my pretty Caroline ! " " Francois : " said she, with a sad smile, " it is long since you flattered me thus ! But I will arrange my hair, for you alone," added she, blushing, as with deft fingers she twisted her raven locks into a coronal about her head. " I would once have gone with you to the end of the world to hear you say you were proud of me. Alas ! you can never be proud of me any more, as in the old happy days at Grand Prd. Those few brief days of love and joy can never return — never, never ! " Bigot stood silent, not knowirg what to say or do. The change from the Bacchanalian riot in the great Hall, t» CAROLL TE DE ST. CASTIN 73 the solemn pathos and woe of the secret chamber sobered him rapidly. Even his obduracy gave way at last. " Car- oline," said he, taking both her hands in his, " I will not urge you longer. I am called bad, and you think me so ; but I am not brutal. It was a promise made over the wine. Varin, the drunken beast, called you Queen Vashti, and challenged me to show your beauty to them ; and I swore not one of their toasted beauties could match my fail Acadienne." " Did the Sieur Varin call me Queen Vashti ? Alas ! he was a truer prophet than he knew," replied she with ineffable sadness. " Queen Vashti refused to obey even her king, when commanded to unveil her face to the drunken nobles. She was deposed, and another raised to her place. Such may be my fate, Francois." " Then you will not go, Caroline ? " " No — kill me if you like, and bear my dead body into the Hall — but living, I can never show my face again be- fore men — hardly before you, Francois," added she, blush- ing, as she hid her tearful eyes on his shoulder. " Well then, Caroline," replied he, really admiring her spirit and resolution, " they shall finish their carouse with- out seeing you. The wine has flowed to-night in rivers, but they shall swim in it without you." " And tears have flowed down here," said she, sadly — H oh, so bitter ! May you never taste their bitterness, Fran- cois ! " Bigot paced the chamber with steadier steps than he had entered it. The fumes were clearing from his brain ; the song that had caught the ear of Colonel Phili- bert, as he approached the Chateau, was resounding at this moment.- As it ceased Bigot heard the loud impatient knocking of Philibert at the outer door. "Darling!" said he, "lie down now, and compose yourself. Francois Bigot is not unmindful of your sacri- fices for his sake. I must return to my guests, who are clamoring for me, or rather for you, Caroline! " He kissed her cheek, and turned to leave her, but she ^lung to his hand as if wanting to say something more ere he went. She trembled visibly, as her low plaintive '.ones struck his ear. " Francois ! if you would forsake the companionship of those men, and*purify your table of such excess, God's - 4 THE CHIEN D'OR. blessing would yet descen 1 upon you, and the people's lovt follow you ! It is in your power to be as good as you are great ! I have many days wished to say this to you, but alas, I feared you too much. I do not fear you to day, Francois, after your kind words to me." Bigot was not impenetrable to that low voice so full of pathos and love. But he was at a loss what to reply- strange influences were flowing round him, carrying him out of himself. He kissed the gentle head that reclined on his bosom. " Carolhe," said he, " your advice is wise and good as yourself. I will think of it for your sake, if not for my own. Adieu, darling ! Go and take rest; these cruel vigils are killing you, and I want you to live in hope of brighter days." " I will," replied she, looking up with ineffable tender- ness. " I am sure I shall rest after your kind words, Fran- cois ? No dew of Heaven was ever more refreshing than the balm they bring to my weary soul. Thanks, oh my Francois, for them ! " She kissed his lips, and Bigot left the secret chamber a sadder and for the moment a better man than he had ever been before. Caroline, overcome by her emotions, threw herself on a couch, invoking blessings upon the head of the man by whom she had been so cruelly betrayed. But such is woman's heart — full of mercy, compassion and pardon foi every wrong when love pleads for forgiveness. " Ha ! Ha ! " said Cadet, as the Intendant re-entered the great Hall, which was filled with Bacchanalian frenzy. " Ha ! Ha ! His Excellency has proposed and been re- jected ! The fair lady has a will of her own and won't obey ! why, the Intendant looks as if he had come from Quintin Corentin, where nobody gets anything he wants ! " " Silence, Cadet ! don't be a fool ! " replied Bigot, im- patiently, although in the Tntendant's us,ual mood, nothing coo gross or too bad could be said in his presence but he could cap it with something worse. " Fool, Bigot ! It is you who have been the fool of a worn in ! " Cadet was privileged to say anything, and he never stinted his speech. " Confess, your Excellency ! she is splay footed as St. Pedauque of Dijon ! She dare not trip over our carpet for fear of showing her big feet I " Cadet's coarse remark excited the mirth of the In- tendant. The influences of the great Hull were more CAROLINE DS ST. CASTJ.V. 75 powerful than those of the secret chamber. He replied curtly, however — " I have excused the lady from coming, Cadet. She is ill, or she does not please to ccme — or she has a private fancy of her own to nurse ; any reason is enough to excuse a lady, or for a gentleman to cease pres- sing her." " Dear me ! " muttered Cadet, " the wind blows fresh from a new quarter ! It is easterly, and betokens a storm ! " and with drunken gravity he commenced singing a hunting refrain of Louis XIV. : — u Sitot qu'il voit sa Chien D quitte tout pour ellene," Bigot burst out into immoderate laughter. " Cadet," said he, " you are, when drunk, the greatest ruffian in Christendom, and the biggest knave when sober. Let the lady sleep in peace, while we drink ourselves blind in her honor. Bring in brandy, valets ! and we will not look foi day until midnight booms on the old clock of the Cha- teau." The loud knocking of Philibert in the great Hall rever- berated again and again through the house. Bigot bade the valets go see who disturbed the Chateau in that bold style. " Let no one in ! " added he — " tis against the rule to open the doors when the Grand Company are met for busi- ness ! Take whips, valets ! and scourge the insolent beg- gars away. Some miserable habitans I warrant, whining for the loss of their eggs and bacon taken by the king's pur- veyors ! " A servant returned with a card on a silver salver. " An officer in uniform waits to see your Excellency ; he brings orders from the Governor," said he to the Intendant. Bigot looked at the card, with knitted brows, fire spaikled in his eyes as he read the name. "Colonel Philibert ! " exclaimed he, " Aid-de-Camp of the Governor ! what the fiend brings him at such a time? Do you hear? " continued he, turning to Varin. " It is your friend from Louisbourg, who was going to put you in irons, and send you to France for trial, when the mutinous garrison threatened to surrender the place if we did not pay them." Varin was not so intoxicated but the name of Philibert 7& THE CHI EN D'OR. roused his anger. He set his cup down •with a bang upon the table. " I will not taste a drop more till he is gone," said he ; " curse Galissoniere's crooked neck-^could he no' have selected a more welcome messenger to send to Beau- manoir ? But I have got his name in my list of debtors, and he shall pay up one day for his insolence at Louis bourg." " Tut, tut, shut up your books ; you are too mercantile for gentlemen," replied Bigot. " The question is, shall we allow Colonel Philibert to bring his orders into the Hall ? Par Dieu ! we are scarcely presentable ! " But whether presentable or no, the words were scarcely spoken when, impatient at the delay, Philibert took ad- vantage of the open door and entered the great Hall. He stood in utter amazement for a moment at the scene of drunken riot which he beheld. The inflamed faces, the confusion of tongues, the disorder, filth and stench of the prolonged debauch sickened him, while the sight of so many men of rank and high office revelling at such an hour, raised a feeling of indignation which he had diffi- culty in keeping down, while he delivered his message tc the Intendant. Bigot, however, was too shrewd to be wanting in polite- ness. " Welcome Colonel Philibert," said he ; " you are an unexpected guest, but a welcome one ! come and taste the hospitality of Beaumanoir before you deliver your message. Bustle, valets, bring fresh cups and the fullest carafes for Colonel Philibert." " Thanks for your politeness, Chevalier ! Your Ex- cellency will please excuse me if I deliver my message at once. My time is not my own to-day, so I will not sit down. His Excellency the Governor desires your presence and that of the royal Commissaries at the council of war this afternoon despatches have just arrived by the Fleur de Lys from home, and the council must assemble at once." A red flush rested upon the brow of Philibert as in his mind he measured the important business of the council with the fitness of the men whom he summoned to at- tend it. He declined the offer of wine and stepped back- ward from the~tabl'e, with a ' ow to the Intendant and the company and was about to depart, when a loud voice on the further side of the table cri id out : CAROLINE DE ST. CASTIN. 77 "It is he, by all that is sacred! Pierre Philibtrt! wait ! " Le Gardeur de Repentigny rushed like a storm through the hall, upsetting chairs and guests in his advance. He ran towards Colonel Philibert who not recognizing the flushed face, and disordered figure that greeted him shrank back from his embrace. " My God ! do you not know me, Pierre ? " exclaimed Le Gardeur, wounded to the quick by the astonished look oi his friend. " I am Le Gardeur de Repentigny ! Oh, dear friend, look and recognize me ! " Philbert stood transfixed with surprise and pain as if an arrow had stricken his eyes. "You? you? Le Gardeur de Repentigny ? It is impossible ! Le Gardeur never looked like you, much less, was ever found among peo- ple like these ! " The last words were rashly spoken, but fortunately not heard amid the hubbub in the hall, or Philibert's life might have paid the penalty from the ex- cited guests. " And yet it is true, Pierre, look at me again. I am no other than he whom you drew out of the St. Lawrence, the only brother of Amelie ! " Philibert looked hard in the eyes of Le Gardeur, and doubted no longer. He pressed his old friend to his heart, saying in a voice full of pathos : — " Oh, Le Gardeur ! I recognize you now, but under what change of look and place ? Often have I forecast our meeting again, but it was in your pure, virtuous home of Tilly, not in this place. What do you here Le Gar- deur?" " Forgive me, Pierre, for the shame of meeting me here," Le Gardeur stood up like a new man in the glance of his friend ; the shock seemed to have sobered him at once. " ' What do I here ? ' say you, oh, dear friend ! " said he, glanc- ing round the hall, " it is easier seen than told what I do here. But by all the Saints I have finished here for to-day 1 You return to the city at once, Pierre ? " " At once, Le Gardeur. The Governor awaits my re- turn." " Then I will return with you. My dear aunt and sis ter are in the city. News of their afrival reached me here, my duty was to return at once, but the Intendant's wine- cups were too potent for me; curse them, for they have dis- graced me in your eyes, Pierre as well as my own 1 " jS THE CHIEN D'OR. Philibert started at the information that Ame'lie was is the city. " Ame'lie in the city ? " repeated he with glad sur- prise, " I did not expect to be able to salute her and the noble Lady de Tilly so soon." His heart bounded in secret at the prospect of again seeing this fair girl who had filled his thoughts for so many years, and been the se- cret spring of so much that was noble and manly in his character. " Come, Le Gardeur, let us take leave of the Intendant, and return at once to the city, but not in that plight ! " added he smiling as Le Gardeur, oblivious of all but the pleasure of accompanying him, had grasped his arm to leave the great Hall. " Not in that garb, Le Gardeur ! Bathe, purify, and clean yourself, I wrll wait outside in the fresh air. The odor of this room stifles me ! " " You are not going to leave us, Le Gardeur ! " Varin called across the table, " and break up good company r Wait till we finish a few more rounds and we will all go together." " I have finished all the rounds for to-day, Varin, may be for ever ! Colonel Philibert is my dearest friend in life, I must leave even you to go with him, so pray excuse me." " You are excused, Le Gardeur." Bigot spoke very courteously to him, much as he disliked the idea of his companionship with Philibert. " We must all return by the time the Cathedral bells chime noon. Take one part- ing cup before you go Le Gardeur, and prevail on Colonel Philibert to do the same, or he will not praise our hospi- tality, I fear." " Not one drop more this day, were it from Jove's own poculum." Le Gardeur repelled the temptation more readily as he felt a twitch on his sleeve from the hand of Philibert. " Well, as you will, Le Gardeur, we have all had enough and over I dare say, ha ! ha ! Colonel Philibert rather puts us to the blush, or would do, were not our cheeks so well painted in the hues of rosy Bacchus." Philibert, with official courtesy, bade adieu to the Inten- dant and the company. A couple of valets waited upon Le Gardeur, whom they assisted to bathe and dress. In a short timejie left the Chateau almost sobered and wholly metamorphosed into a handsome fresh Chevalier. A per- verse redness about the eyes alone remained to tell the tale of the last nisrht's debauch. CAROLINE DE ST. CAST/N. 79 Master Pothier sat on a lorse-block at the door with 11 the gravity of a judge, while he waited for the return of Colonel Philibert and listened to the lively noise in the Chateau, the music, song, and jingle of glass forming a sweet concert in the ears of *.he jolly old notary. "I shall not need you to guide me back,»Mastei Poth- t e;," said Philibert, as he put some silver pieces in his hollow palm, "take your fee. The cause is gained, is it uot, Le Gardeur?" He glanced triumphantly it his friend. "Good-bye, Master Pothier," said he as he rode off with Le Gardeur. The old notary could not keep up with them but came jolting on behind, well pleased to have leisure to count and jingle his coins. Master Pothier was in that state of joyful anticipation, when hope outruns realization. He already saw himself seated in the old arm-chair in the snug parlor of Dame Be'dard's inn, his back to the fire, his belly to the table, a smoking dish of roast in the mid- dle, an ample trencher before him with a bottle of Cognac on one flank, and a jug of Norman cider on the other, an old crony or two to eat and drink with him, and the light foot and deft hand of pretty Zoe Be'dard to wait upon them. This picture of perfect bliss floated before the winking eyes of Master Pothier, and his mouth watered in anticipa- tion of his Eden, not of flowers and trees, but of tables, cups, and platters, with plenty to fill them, and to empty Lhem as well. " A worthy gentleman and a brave officer, I warrant ! " said Pothier as he jogged along. " He is generous as a prince, and considerate as a bishop, fit for a judge, nay, for a chief justice !, What would you do for him, Master Pothier ? " the old notary asked himself. " I answer the interrogatory of the Court ! I would draw up his marriage contract, write his last will and testament with the greatest of pleasure and without a fee ! And v.o notary in New France could do more for him ! " Pothier' s imagination fell into a vision over a consideration of his favorite text, that of the great sheet, wherein was all manner of flesh and fowl good for food, but the tongue of the otd notary would trip at the name cf Peter, and neiversely say "rise, Pothier, kill and eat" CHAPTER IX. PIERRE PHILIBERT Colonel Philibert and Le Garde ,r rode rapidly through the forest of Beaumanoir, pulling up occasionally in an eager and sympathetic exchange of questions and replies, as they recounted the events of their lives since their separation, or recalled their school days and glorious holi- days and rambles in the woods of Tilly — with frequent mention of their gentle, fair companion, Ame'lie De Repen- tigny, whose name on the lips of her brother sounded sweeter than the chime of the bells of Charlebourg to the ear of Pierre Philibert. The bravest man in New France felt a tremor in his breast as he asked Le Gardeur a seemingly careless ques tion — seemingly, for, in truth, it was vital in the last degree to his happiness, and he knew it. He expressed a fear that Amelie would have wholly forgotten him after so long an absence from New France. His heart almost ceased beating as he waited the reply of Le Gardeur, which came impetuously : " Forgotten you, Pierre Philibert? She would forget me as soon ! But for you she would have had no brother to-day, and in her prayers she ever remembers both of us ; you by right of a sister's gratitude, me because I am unworthy of her saintly prayers, and need them all the more ! Oh ! Pierre Phili- bert, you do not know Ame'lie if you think she is one ever to forget a friend like you ! " The heart of Philibert gave a great leap for joy. Too happy for speech, he rode on a while in silence. " Amelie will have changed much in appearance ? " he asked at last. A thousand questions were crowding upon his lips. " Changed ? O, yes ! " replied Le Gardeur gaily. " I scarcely recognize my little bright-eyed sister in the tall, perfect young - lady that has taken her place. But the loving heart, the pure mind, the gentle ways, and winning smiles are the same as ever. She is somewhat more still PIERRE PHILIEERT 8, and thoughtful, perhaps— more strict in the observances of religion ; you will remember. I used to call her in jest our St. Amelie — I might call her that in earnest now, Pierre, and she would be worthy of the name ! " " God bless yo x, Le Gardeur ! " burst out Colonel Thilibert — his voice could not repress the emotion he felt — " and God bless Ame'lie ! Think you she would care to see me to-day, Le Gardeur?" Philibert's thoughts flew far and fast, and his desire to know more of Ame'lie was a rack of suspense to him. She might, indeed, recollect the youth, Pierre Philibert, thought he, as she did a sunbeam that gladdened long past summers ; but how could he expect her to regard him — the full-grown man — as the same? Nay, was he not nursing a fatal fancy in his breast that would sting him to death? for among the gay and gallant throng about the capital was it not more than possible — that so lovely and amiable a woman had already been wooed, and given the priceless treasure of her love to another ? It was, therefore, with no common feeling that Philibert said, "Think you she will care to see me to-day, Le Gardeur ? " " Care to see you, Pierre Philibert ? What a ques- tion ! She and Aunt De Tilly take every occasion to remind me of you, by way of example, to shame me of my faults — and they succeed, too ! I could cut off my right hand this moment, Pierre, that it should never lift wine again to my lips ; and to have been seen by you in such company ! What must you think of me ? " " I think your regret could not surpass mine. But tell me how you have been drawn into these rapids, and taken the wrong turn, Le Gardeur ?" Le Gardeur winced as he replied, " Oh, I do not know. I found myself there before I thought. It was the wit, wine and enchantments of Bigot, I suppose, and the greatest temptation of all — a woman's smiles — that led me to take the wrong turn, as you call it. There — you have my confession ! — and I would put my sword through any man but you, Pierre, who dared ask me to give such an account of myself I am ashamed of it all Piene Phili- bert, ! ' " Thanks, Le Gardeur, for your confidence. I hope you will outride this storm ! " He held out his hand, nervous and sinewy as that of M irs. Le Gardeur seized 6 82 THE CHIEN D'OR. it and pressed it hard in his. " Don't you think it is stiL able to rescue a friend from peril ? " added Philibert smil- ing. Le Gardeur caught his meaning, and gave him a look of unutterable gratitude. " Beside this hand o. f mine are there not the gentler hands of Ame'lie to intercede for you with your better self," said Philibert. " My dear sister ! " interjected Le Gardeur. " I am a coward when I think of her, and I shame to come into her pure presence." " Take courage, Le Gardeur ! There is hope where there is shame of our faults. Be equally frank with your sister as with me, and she will win you in spite of your- self from the enchantments of Bigot, Cadet, and the still more potent smiles you speak of that led you to take the wrong turn in life." " I doubt it is too late, Pierre ! although I know that, were every other friend in the world to forsake me, Ame'lie would not ! She would not even reproach me, except by excess of affection." Philibert looked on his friend admiringly, at this pane- gyric of the woman he loved. Le Gardeur was in feature so like his sister that Philibert at the moment caught the very face of Ame'lie, as it were, looking at him through the face of her brother. " You will not resist her pleadings, Le Gardeur." — Philibert thought it an impossible thing. " No guardian angel ever clung to the skirts of a sinner as Vme'lie will cling to you," said he ; " therefore I have every hope of my dear friend Le Gardeur de Repentigny." The two riders emerged from the forest and drew up for a minute in front of the hostelry of the Crown of France, to water their horses at the long trough before the door, and inform Dame Bedard, who ran out to greet them, that Master Pothier was following with his ambling nag at a gentle pace, as befitted the gravity of his pro- fession. " O I Master Pothie ' never fails to find his way to the Crown of France ; but won't your honors take a cup of wine ? The day is hot and the road dusty. ' A dry rider makes a wet nag,' " added the Dame, with a smile, as she repeated an old saying, bro ight over with the rest of the butin in the ships of Cartie/ and Champlain. The gentlemen bowed their thanks, aud as Philibert PIERRE PHI LI BERT 8j locke I uji, \.t si v, p ett) Zoe Bedard poring over a sheet of oaper hearing a red seal, and spelling out the crabbed law cext of Master Pothier. Zoe, like other girls of her class, had received a tincture of learning in the day schools of the nuns ; but, although the paper was her marriage con- tract, it puzzled her greatly to pick out the few chips of plain sense that floated in the sea of legal verbiage it coa ained. Zoe, with a perfect comprehension of the claims oi meum and tuum, was at no loss, however, in arriving at z satisfactory solution of the true merits of her matrimonial contract with honest Jean La Chance. She caught the eye of Philibert, and blushed to the very chin as she huddled away the paper and returned the salute of the two handsome gentlemen, who, having refreshed their horses, rode off at a rapid trot down the great highway that led to the city. Babet Le Nocher, in a new gown, short enough to reveal a pair of shapely ankles in clocked stockings, and well clad feet, that would have been the envy of many a Duchess, sat' on the thwart of the boat knitting. Her black hair was in the fashion recorded by the grave Peter Kalm, who, in his account of New France, says, " The peasant women all wear their hair in ringlets, and nice they look ! " " As I live ! " exclaimed she to Jean, who was enjoying i pipe of native tobacco, " here comes that handsome officer back again, and in as great a hurry to return as he was to go up the highway ! " " Aye, aye, Babet ! It is plain to see he is either on the King's errand or his own. A fair lady awaits his return in the city, or one has just dismissed him where he has beer. ! Nothing like a woman to put quicksilver in a man's shoes — eh ! Babet?!' " Or foolish thoughts into their hearts, Jean ! " replied she, laughing. ; ' And nothing more natural, Babet, if women's hearts are wise enough ; .n their folly to like our foolish thoughts of them. But there are two ! Who is that riding with the gentleman ? Your eyes are better than mine, Babet ! " "Of cou:se, Jean! that is what I always tell you, but you won't believe me — trust my eyes, ^nd doubt your own ! The other gentleman," said she. looking fixedly,' while hei kaitting lay still n her .ap, " the other is the young g 4 THE CHIEK &0R. Chevalier de Repentigny. What brings him back before the rest of the hunting party, I wonder? " " That officer must have been to Beaumanoir, and is bringing the young Seigneur back to town, ' remarked Jean, puffing out a long thread of smoke from his tips. " Well, it must be something better than smoke, Jean 1 * — Babet coughed ; she never liked the pipe. — " The youn$ Chevalier is always one of the last to give up when thej? have one of their three-days drinking bouts up at the Chateau. He is going to the bad, I fear — morn's the pity ! Such a nice, handsome fellow, too ! " " All lies and calumny ! " replied Jean, in a heat, " Le Gardeur de Repentigny is the son of my dear old Seigneur. He may get drunk, but it will be like a gentle- man if he does, and not like a carter, Babet, or like a — " " Boatman ! Jean ; but I don't include you — you have never been the worse for drinking water since I took care of your liquor, Jean ! " " Aye, you are intoxication enough of yourself for me, Babet. Two bright eyes like yours, a pipe and bitters, with grace before meat, would save any Christian man in this world." Jean stood up politely doffing his red tuque to the gentlemen. Le Gardeur stooped from his horse to grasp his hand, for Jean had been an old servitor at Tilly, and the young Seigneur was too noble-minded and polite to omit a kindly notice of even the humblest of his ac- quaintance. " Had a busy day, Jean, with the old ferry? " asked Le Gardeur cheerily. " No, your honor, but yesterday I think half the country side crossed over to the city on the King's Corve'e. The men went to work, and the women followed to look after them, ha ! ha ! " Jean winked provokingly at Babet, who took him up sharply. " And why should not the women go after the men ? I trow men are not so plentiful in New France as they used to be before this weary war began. It well behoves the women to take good care of all that are left." " That is true as the Sunday sermon," remarked Jean. " Why, it was only the other day I beard that great foreign gentleman, who is the guest of his Excellency the Governor, say, sitting in this very boat, ' that there are at this time four women to every man in New France 1 ' If that is true RIERRE PHILIBERT. g. Babet — and you know he said it, for you were angry enough — a man is a prize indeed, in New France, and women are plenty as eggs at Easter ! " " The foreign gentleman iad much assurance to say it even if it were true. He were much better employed picking up weeds and putting them in his book ! " exclaim- ed Babet, hotly. " Come ! come ! " cried Le Gardeur, interrupting this debate on the population — " Providence knows the worth of Canadian women, and cannot give us too many of them. We are in a hurry to get to the city, Jean, so let us embark. My Aunt and Ame'lie are in the old home in the city, they will be glad to see you and Babet," added he kindly as he got into the boat. Babet dropped her neatest courtesy, and Jean, all alive to his duty, pushed off his boat bearing the two gentlemen and their horses, across the broad St. Charles, to the King's Quay, where they remounted, and riding past the huge pal ace of the Intendant, dashed up the steep Cote au Chien and through the City gate, disappearing from the eyes of Babet, who looked very admiringly after them. Her thoughts were especially commendatory of the handsome officer in full uniform, who had been so polite and generousin the morning. " I was afraid, Jean, you were going to blurt out about Mademoiselle des Meloises," remarked Babet to Jean on his return — " men are so indiscreet always." " Leaky boats ! leaky boats ! Babet ! no rowing them with a woman aboard ! sure to run on the bank. But what about Mademoiselle des Meloises ? " Honest Jean had passed her over the ferry an hour ago, and been sorely tempted to inform Le Gardeur of the interesting fact. "What about Mademoiselle des Meloises?" Babet spoke rather sharply — "why, all Quebec knows that the Seigneur de Repsntigny is mad in love with her." " And why should he not be mad in love with her if he likes ?" replied Jean— ' : She is a morsel fit for a king, and if Le Gardeur should lose both his heart and his wits on her account, it is only what half the gallants of Quebec have done.'' " Oh, Jean, Jean ! it is plain to see you have an eye in your head, as well as a soft place ! " ejaculated Babet, recom- mencing her knitting with fresh vigor, and working off the electricity that was st rring in her. 86 THE CH.EN D-OR. u I had two eyes in my head when I cho.se you, Babel, and the soft place was in my heart 1 " replied Jean heartily. The compliment was taken with a smile, as it deserved to be. " Look you, Babet, I would not give this pinch of snuff," said Jean, raising his thumb and two fingers holding a go-jd dose of the pungent dust — " I would not give this pinch of snuff for any young fellow, who could be indifferent to the charms of such a pretty lass as Ange'lique des Meloises ! ' " Well, I am glad you did not tell the Seigneur de Re- pentigny, that she had crossed the ferry and gone — not to look for him, I'll be bound ! I will tell you some- thing by and by, Jean ! if you will come in and eat your dinner, I have something you like." " What is it, Babet ? " Jean was after all more curious about his dinner than about the fair lady. " Oh, something you like, — that is a wife's secret, keep the stomach of a man warm and his heart will never grow cold, — what say you to fried eels ? " " Bravo ! " cried the gay old boatman, as he sang : "Ah I ah I ah I frit a l'huile. Frit au beurre et a l'ognon 1" and the jolly couple danced into their little cottage — no king and queen in Christendom half so happy as they. CHAPTER X. AMELIE DE REPENTIGNY. The town house of the Lady de Tilly stood on the upper part of the Place d'Armes, a broad roughly paved square. The Chateau of St. Louis, with its massive buildings and high peaked roofs filled one side of the square. On the other side, embowered in ancient trees that had escaped the axe of Champlain's hardy followers, stood the old fash ioned monastery of the Recollets with its high belfry, and broad shady jporch, where the monks in grey gowns and sandals sat in summer, reading their breviaries or exchang- ing salutations with the passeis by, who always had a kind greeting for the brothers of St. Francis. AMELJE DE RESENT/GAY. 87 The mansion of ths Lady de Tilly was of stone, spacious and ornate, as became the rank and wealth of the Seigneurs de Tilly. It overlooked the Place d' Amies, and the noble gardens of the Chateau of St. Louis, with a magnificent sweep of the St. Lawrence, flowing majestically under the fortress-crowned cape, upon the high wooded hills of Lau Kon, the farther side of the river closing the view. In the recess of an ornate mullioned window, half con cealed by the rich heavy curtains of a noble room, Amdlie de Repentigny sat alone j very quiet in look and demeanor, but no little agitated in mind, as might be noticed in the nervous contact of her hands, which lay in her lap clasping each other very hard, as if trying to steady her thoughts. Her aunt was receiving some lady visitors in the great drawing-room. The hum of loud feminine voices reached the ear of Amelie, but she paid no atten- tion, so absorbed was she in the new and strange thoughts that had stirred in her mind since morning, when she had learned from the Chevalier La Corne of the return to New France of Pierre Philibert. The news had sur- prised her to a degree she could not account for. Her first thought was, how fortunate for her brother that Pierre had returned ; her second, how agreeable to herself. Why ? She could not think why. She wilfully drew an inference away from the truth that lay in her heart. It was wholly for sake of her brother she rejoiced in the return of his friend and preserver. Her heart beat a little faster than usual, that was the result of her long walk and disappoint- ment at not meeting Le Gardeur on her arrival yesterday. But she feared to explore her thoughts — a rigid self exam- ination might discover what she instinctively felt was deeply concealed there. A subtle indefinable prevision had suggested to her that Colonel Philibert would not have failed to meet Le Gardeur at Beaumanoir, and that he would undoubtedly accompany her brother on his return and call to pay his respects to the Lady de Tilly, and — to herself. She felt her cheek glow at the thought, yet was half vexed at her own foolish fancy, as she called it. She tried to call upon her pride, but that came very laggardly to the relief of her discomposure. Her interview too with Angelique des Meloises had caused her no little disquiet. The bold avowals of Ange- lique with reference to the Intendant had shocked Ame'lie. 88 THE CHIEN D'OR. She knew that her brother had given more of his thoughts to this beautiful, reckless girl than was good for his peace, should her amb.tion ever run counter to his love. The fond sister sighed deeply when she reflected that the woman who had power to make prize of Le Gardeur'i love, was not worthy of him. It is no rare thing for loving sisters, who have to resign 'heir brothers to others' keeping, to think so. 15ut Amd- lie knew that Angel ique des Meloises, was incapable of that true love, which only finds its own in the happiness of another. She was vain, selfish, ambitious, and what Ame'lie did not yet know, possessed of neither scruple nor delicacy in attaining her objects. It had- chimed the hour of noon upon the old clock of the Recollets, and Amelie still sat looking wistfully over the great square of the Place d'Armes, and curiously scan- ning every horseman that rode across it. A throng of people moved about the square, or passed in and out of the great arched gate-way of the Castle of St. Louis. A bright shield, bearing the crown zx\&fleur de /ys, .surmount- ed the gate, and under it walked, with military pace, a couple of sentries, their muskets and bayonets flashing out in the sun every time they wheeled to return on their beat. Occasionally there was a ruffle of drum's ; the whole guard turned out and presented arms, as some officer of high rank, or ecclesiastical dignitary, passed through to pay their respects to the Governor, or transact business at the vice- regal court. Gentlemen on foot, with chapeaux and swords, carrying a cloak on their shoulders ; ladies in visiting dress ; habitans and their wives in unchanging costume ; soldiers in uniform, and black gowned clergy, mingled in a moving picture of city life, which, had not Ame'lie's thoughts been so preoccupied to-day, would have afforded her great delight to look out upon. The Lady de Tilly had rather wearied of the visit of the two ladies of the city, Madame de Grandmaison, and Madame Couillard who had bored her with all the current gossip of the day. They were rich and fashionable, per- fect 'n etiquette, :ostume, and most particular in their soci- ety But the rank and position of the noble Lady de Tilly made her friendship most desirable, as it conferred in the eyes of the world a patent of gentility, which held good against every pretension to overtop it. AMRLIE DE REPENTIGNY. 89 The stream of city talk, from the lips of the two ladies, had the merit of being perfect of its kind. Softly insinu- ating, and sweetly censorious, superlative in eulogy, and in- fallible in opinion. The good visitors most conscientious- ly discharged what they deemed a great moral and social duty, by enlightening the Lady de Tilly on all the recent lapses, and secrets of the capital. They slid over slippery topics like skaters on thin ice, filling their listener with anxiety lest they should break through. But Madame de Grandmaison and her companion were too well exercised in the gymnastics of gossip, to overbalance themselves. Half Quebec was run over, and run down in the course of an hour. Lady de Tilly listened with growing impatience to their frivolities, but she knew society too well to quarrel with its follies when it was of no service to do so. She contented herself with hoping it was not so bad. The Pope was not Catholic enough to suit some people ; but for her part, she had generally found people better than they were called. A rather loud, but well bred exclamation of Madame de Grandmaison, roused Amelie from her day dream. "Not going to the Intendant's ball at the Palace I My Lady de Tilly ! neither you nor Mademoiselle de Re- pentigny, whom we are so sorry not to have seen to-day? Why, it is to be the most magnificent affair ever got up in New France. All Quebec has rung with nothing else for a fortnight, and every milliner and modiste in the city has gone almost insane over the superlative costumes to be worn there." " And it is to be the most select in its character," chimed in Madame Couillard j "all gentry and noblesse, not one of the Bourgeois to be invited. That class, especially the fe- male portion of them, give themselves such airs now-a- days ! As r; their money made them companv for people of auality. They must be kept down, I say, or — " " And the Royal Intendant quite agrees with the gene ral sentiment of the higher circles," responded Madame de Grandmaison. " He is for keeping down — " " Noblesse ! Noblesse ! " The Lady de Tilly spoke with visible impatience. " Who is this Royal Intendant, who dares cast a slight upon the worthy, honest, Bourgeoisie of this city ? Is he nob'e himself ? Not that I would think worse of him, were he not, but I have heard it disputed. 9° THE CHIEN HOR. He is the last one who should venture tc scorn the Bour geoisie." Madame de Grandmaison fanned herself in a very stately manner. "O my Lady, you' surely forget! The Chevalier Bigot is a not distant relative of the Count de Marville, and the Chevalier de Grandmaison is a constant visitor at the Intendant's ! But he would not have sat at his table an hour, had he not known that he was connected with the nobility. The Count de Marville — " " The Count de Marville ! " interrupted the Lady de Tilly, whose politeness almost gave way. " Truly a man is kni'.wn by the company he keeps. No credit to any one to be connected with the Count de Marville." Madame de Grandmaison felt rather subdued. She perceived that the Lady de Tilly was not favorably impress- ed towards the Intendant. But she tried again. " And then my Lady, the Intendant is so powerful at Court. He was a particular friend of Madame D'Etioles, before she was known at Court, and they say he managed her introduction to the King, at the famous masked ball at the Hotel de Ville, when His Majesty threw his handkerchief at her, and she became first dame du palais, and the Marquise de Pompa- dour. She has ever remained his firm friend, and in spite of all his enemies could, do to prevent' it, His Majesty made him Intendant of New France." " In spite of all the King's friends could do, you mean," replied the Lady de Tilly in a tone, the sound of which caught the ear of Amelie, and she knew her aunt was losing patience with her visitors. Lady de Tilly heard the name of the Royal minister with intense disgust, but her innate loyalty prevented her speaking disparagingly of the King. " We will not discuss the court, said she, nor the friendships of this Intendant. I can only pray, his future may make amends for his past. I trust New France may not have as n? ich reason as poor lost Acadia, to lament the day of his coming to the colonies." The two lady vistors were not obtuse. They saw they had roused the susceptibilities (prejudices they called them) of the Lady de Tilly. They rose, and smothering their disappointment under well bred phrases, took most polite leave of the dignified o'd lady, who was heartily glad to be rid of them. "The disagreeable jld thing I to talk so of the Intend- AMELIE DE REPENTIGNY. 9» Ant I " exclaimed Madame Couillard, spitefully. " When her own nephew, and heir in the Seigneury of Tilly, is the Intendant's firmest friend and closest companion." " Yes, she forgot about her own house, people always forget to look at home, when they pass judgment upon their neighbors," replied Madame de Grandmaison. " But I am mistaken, if she will be able to impress Le Gardeur de Repentigny with her uncharitable, and unfashionable opinions of the Intendant. I hope the ball will be the greatest social success ever seen in the city, just to vex her and her niece, who is as proud and particular as she is herself." Amelie de Repentigny had dressed herself, to-day, in a robe of soft muslin of Deccan; the gift of a relative in Pondicherry. It enveloped her exquisite form, without concealing the grace and lissomness of her movements. A broad blue ribbon round her waist, and in her dark hair a blue flower, were all her adornments, except a chain and cross of gold, which lay upon her bosom, the rich gift of her brother, and often kissed with a silent prayer for his welfare and happiness. More than once, under the influence of some indefinable impulse, she rose and went to the mirror, com- paring her features now with a portrait of herself, taken as a young girl in the garb of a shepherdess of Provence Her father used to like that picture of her, and to please him, she often wore her hair in the fashion of Provence. She did so to-day. Why? The subtle thought in many protean shapes played before her fancy, but she would not try to catch it. No ! rather shyly avoided its examination. She was quite restless, and sat down again in the deep recess of the window, watching the Place d' Armes for the appearance of her brother. She gave a sudden start at last, as a couple of officers galloped into the square, and rode towards the great gate of the Chateau, one of them she instantly recognized as her brother, the other, a tall martial figure in full uniform, upon a fiery grey, she did not recognize, but she knew in her heart, it could be no other than Colonel Philibert. Ame'lie felt a thrill, almost painful in its pleasure, agi- tating her bosom, as she sat watching the gateway they had entered. It was even a momentary relief to her, that they had turned in there, instead of riding directly to the house. It gave her time l o collect her thoughts, and summon up £ t THE CHIKN D'OR all her fortitude for the coming interview. Her fin^eri wandered down to the rosary in the folds of her dress, and the golden bead, which had so often prompted her prayer for the happiness of Pierre Philibert, seemed to burn to the touch. Her cheek crimsoned, for a strange thought sud- denly intruded — the boy Pierre Philibert, whose image and memory she had so long and innocently cherished, was now a man, a soldier, a councillor, trained in courts and camps 1 How unmaidenly she had acted, forgeting all this in her childish prayers until this moment ! " I meant no harm ! " was all the defence she could think of. Nor had she time to think more of herself, for after remaining ten minutes in the Chateau, just long enough to see the Governor, and deliver the answer of the Intendant to his message, the grey charger emerged from the gate. His rider was accom- panied by her brother, and the well known figure of her godfather La Corne St. Luc, who rode up the hill, and in a minute or two, dismounted at the door of the mansion of the Lady de Tilly. The fabled Lynx, whose eye penetrates the very earth to discover hidden treasure, did not cast a keener and more inquisitive glance than that which Amelie, shrouded behind the thick curtains, directed from the window at the tall, manly figure, and handsome countenance of him whom she knew to be Pierre Philibert. Let it not detract from her that she gave way to an irresistible impulse of womanly curiosity. The Queen of France would, under the same temptation, have done the same thing, and perhaps without feeling half the modest shame of it that Ame'lie did. A glance sufficed ; but a glance that impressed upon her mind for ever the ineffaceable and perfect image of Pierre Philibert the man, who came in place of Pierre Philibert the boy friend of Le Gardeur and of herself. CHAPTER XL THE SOLDIER'S WELCOME. The voices of t) 2 gentlemen mingled with her aunt's in eager greetings. She well knew which must be the voice of Colonel p t libert — the rest were all so familiar to THE SOLDIER 3 WELCOME. 93 her ear. Suddenly footstep* ran up the grand stair, clearing three at a time. She waited, trembling with an- ticipation. Le Gardeur rushed into the room with out- stretched arms, embraced her, and kissed her in a trans- port of brotherly affection. " Oh, Le Gardeur ! " cried she, returning his kiss with fond affection, and looked in his face with tendemes.3 and joy. " O my brother, how I have prayed and longed ioi your coming. Thank God ! you are here at last. You are well, brother, are you not ? " said she, looking up with a glance that seemed to betray some anxiety. " Never better, Ame'lie," replied he, in a gayer tone than was quite natural to him, and shyly averting his eyes from her tender scrutiny. " Never better. Why, if I had been in my grave I should have risen up to welcome a friend whom I have met to-day after years of separation. Oh, Amelie, I have such news for you : " "News for me, Le Gardeur! What can it be?" A blush stole over her countenance, and her bosom heaved, for she was very conscious of the nature of the news her brother was about to impart. "Guess! you unsuspecting queen of shepherdesses," cried he, archly twisting a lock of her hair that hung over her shoulder. " Guess, you pretty gypsy, you ! " " Guess ? How can I guess, Le Gardeur ? Can there be any news left in the city of Quebec after an hour's visit from Madame de Grandmaison and Madame Couillard. I did not go down, but I know they inquired much after you, by the way ! " Amelie, with a little touch of feminine perversity, shyly put off the grand burst of Le Gardeur's intelligence, knowing it was sure to come. " Pshaw ! who cares for those old scandal-mongers ! But you can never guess my news, Amelie, so I may as well tell you."' Le Gardeur fairly swelled with the an- nouncement he was about to make. " Have mercy then, brother, and tell me at once, for you do now set my curiosity on tip-toe." She was a true woman, ar.d w)uld not for anything have admitted her knowledge of the presence of Colonel Philibert in the house. "Ame'lie," said he, taking her by both hands, as if to prevent her escape, " I was at Beaumanoir, you know The Intendant gave a grand hunting party," added he, no 94 THE CJ/ZEJV D'OR. ticing the quick glance she gave him, " ant who do you think came to the Chateau and recognized me, or rather I recognized him ? A stranger — and not such a stranger either, Ame'lie." " Nay ; go on brother ! Who could this mysterious stranger and no stranger have been ? " . « Philibert ! Ame'lie ! Pierre — our Pierre, you icnow ! You recollect him, sister ! " " Recollect Pierre Philibert ? Why, how could I ever forget him while you are living ? since to him we are all indebted for your life, brother ! " " I know that ; are you not glad, as I am, at his re- turn ? " asked Le Gardeur, with a penetrating look. She threw her arms round him involuntarily, for she was much agitated. "Glad, brother? Yes, I am glad, because you are glad." " No more than that, Amelie ? That is a small thing to be glad for." " Oh, brother ! I am glad for gladness' sake ! We can never overpay the debt of gratitude we owe Pierre Phili- bert." " O my sweet sister," replied he, kissing her ; " I knew my news would please you. Come, we will go down and see him at once, for Pierre is in the house." " But Le Gardeur ! " She blushed and hesitated. " Pierre Philibert I knew ; I could speak to him ; but I shall hardly dare recognize him in the stately soldier of to-day. Voilla la difference!'''' added she, repeating the refrain of a song very popular both in New France and in Old at that pe- riod. Le Gardeur did not comprehend her hesitation and tone. Said he : girl. " I will not utter the name to-day, my Lady ! It has been revealed to me as a great secret. It is a name too high for the stroke of the "aw if there be any law left us but the will of a king's mistress ! God, however, has left us the 7 HE SOLDIER'S WELCOME. 99 law of a gentleman's sword to avenge its master's wrong. The Baron de St. Castin will soon return to vindicate his own honor and whether or no, I vow to heaven, my Lady that the traitor who has wronged that sweet girl, will one day, have to try whether his sword be sharper than that ot La Corne St. Luc ! But pshaw ! I am talking bravado like an Indian at the war post. The story of those luckless New England wives has carried us beyond all bounds." Lady de Tilly looked admiringly, without a sign of re- proof at the old soldier, sympathizing with his honest indignation at so foul a wrong to her sex. " Were that dear child mine, woman as I am, I would do the same thing ! " said she with a burst of feeling. She felt Amelie press her arm as if she too shared the spirit of her bolder aunt. " But here comes Felix Baudoin to summon us to din- ner ! " exclaimed Ladyde Tilly, as an old white-headed ser- vitor in livery appeared at the door with a low bow, announcing that dinner was served. Le Gardeur and La Corne St. Luc greeted the old servi- tor with the utmost kindness, inquired after his health, and begged a pinch from his well-worn snuff-box. Such familiarities were not rare in that day between the gentle- men of New France and their old servants, who usually passed their lifetime in one household. Felix was the major domo of the manor house of Tilly, trusty, punctili- ous, and polite, and honored by his mistress more as a humble friend than as a servant of her house. " Dinner is served, my Lady ! " repeated Felix with ar bow. " But my Lady must excuse ! The kitchen has been full of habitans all day. The Trifourchettes, the Dxibledents, and all the best eaters in Tilly have been here. After obeying my Lady's commands to give them all they could eat, we have had difficulty in saving anything for my Lady's own table." " No matter, Felix, we shall say grace all the same. I could content myself with bread and water, to give fish and flesh to my censitairej, who are working so willingly on the King's corvee I But that must be my apology to you, Pierre Philibert and the Chevalier La Corne for a poorer dinner than I could wish." " Oh, I feel no misgivings, my Lady ! " remarked La Corne St. Luc, laughing, " Felix Baudoin is too faithful a IOO THE CHIF.X HOR. servitor to starve his mistress for the sake of the Trifour chettes, the Doubledents and all the best eaters in the Seigneurie ! No no I will be bound your Ladysb'p will find Felix has tolled and tithed from them enough to secure a dinner for us all — come, Amelie with me." Lady de Tilly took the arm of Colonel Philibert, fol- lowed by Le Gardeur, La Corne and Amelie, and, mar- shalled by the major domo, proceeded to the dining room— a large room, wainscotted with black walnut, a fine wood lately introduced. The ceiling was coved,and surrounded by a rich frieze of carving. A large table, suggestive of hos- pitality, was covered with drapery of the snowiest linen, the product of the spinning-wheels and busy looms of the women of the Seigneurie of Tilly. Vases of china, filled with freshly gathered flowers, shed sweet perfumes, while they delighted the eye with their beauty, etherializing the elements of bread and meat by suggestions of the poetry and ideals of life. A grand old buffet, a prodigy of cabi net-maker's art, displayed a mass of family plate, and a silver shield embossed with the arms of Tilly, a gift of Henry of Navarre to their ancient and loyal house, hung upon the wall over the buffet. In spite of the Trifourchettes and the Doubledents, Felix Baudoin had managed to set an excellent dinner upon the table of his Lady, who looked archly at the Che- valier La Corne, as if assenting to his remark on her old servitor. The Lady remained standing at the head of her table until they all sat down, when, clasping her hands, she re- cited with feeling and clearness the old Latin grace* " Benedic, Domine, nos et hxc tua dona" sanctifying her table by the invocation of the blessing of God upon it and upon all who sat round it. A soup, rich and savory, was the prelude to all din- ners in New France. A salmon speared in the shallows of the Chaudiere, and a dish of blood-speckled trout, from the mountain streams of St. Joachim, smoked upon the board. Little oval loaves of wheaten bread were piled up in baskets of sllvar filigree. For in those days the fields of New France produced crops of the finest wheat a gift which Providence has since withheld. "The wheat went away with the Bourbon liles, and never grew afterwards," said the old habitant. THE SOLL lER'S WELCOME. xox Hie meat in the larder had all really been given to the hungry censitaires in the kitchen, except a capon from the Basse cour of Tilly, and a standing pie, the contents of which came from the manorial dove cote. A reef of rasp- berries, red as corals, gathered on the tangled slopes of Cote a Bonhomme, formed the dessert, with blue whortle- berries from Cape Tourment. Plums, sweet as honey drops, and small, grey-coated apples from Beaupre', deli cious as those that comforted the Rose of Sharon. A few carafes of choice wine from the old manorial cellar, com- pleted the entertainment. The meal was not a protracted one, but to Pierre Phili- bert the most blissful hour of his life. He sat by the side of Ame'lie, enjoying every moment as if it were a pearl dropped into his bosom, by word, look or gesture of the radiant girl who sat beside him. He found Ame'lie, although somewhat timid at first to converse, a willing, nay an eager listener. She was attracted by the magnetism of a noble, sympathetic nature, and by degrees ventured to cast a glance at the handsome, manly countenance where feature after feature revealed itself, like a landscape at dawn of day, and in Colonel Phil- ibert she recognized the very looks, speech and manner of Pierre Philibert of old. Her questioning eyes hardly needed the interpretation of her tongue to draw him out to impart the story of his life during his long absence from New France, and it was with seciet delight she found in him a powerful, cultivated intel- lect and nobility of sentiment such as she rightly supposed belonged only to a great man, while his visible pleasure at meeting her again filled her with a secret joy that, unno- ticed by herself, suffused her whole countenance with ra- diance, and incited her to converse with him more freely than she had thought it possible, when she sat down at table. " It is long since we all sat together, Mademoiselle, at the table of your noble aunt," remarked Philibert. " It fulfills an often and often repeated day dream of mine, that I should one day find you just the same." " And do you find me just the same ? " answered she, archly, " You take down the pri ie of ladyhood immensely, Colonel 1 I had imagi led I was something quite other thaD the wild child of Tilly ! " ioa THE CHIEN D'OR. " I hardly like to consider yc u as in the pride of lady- hood, Maden oiselle, for fear I should lose the wild child of Tilly, whom I should be so glad to find again." " And whom you do find just the same in heart, mind and regard too ! " thought she to herself, but her words were : " My school mistresses would be ashamed of their work, Colonel, if they had not improved on the very rude material my aunt sent them up from Tilly to manufacture into a fine lady ! I was the crowned queen of the year when I left the Ursulines ! So beware of considering me ' the child of Tilly ' any longer." Her silvery laugh caught his heart, for in that he recog- nized vividly the gay young girl whose image he was every instant developing out of the tall, lovely woman beside him. La Corne St. Luc and the Lady de Tilly found a thou sand delights in mutual reminiscences of the past. Le Gardeur, somewhat heavy, joined in conversation with Phil- bert and his sister. Amdlie guessed and Philibert knew the secret of Le Gardeur's dullness. Both strove to en- liven and arouse him, his aunt guessed too, that he had passed the night as the guests of the Intendant always passed it, and knowing his temper and the regard he had for her good opinion, she brought the subject of the In- tendant into conversation, in order, casually as it were, to impress Le Gardeur with her opinion of him. Pierre Phil- ibert, too, thought she, shall be put upon his guard against the crafty Bigot. " Pierre," said she, " you are happy in a father who is a brave, honorable man, of whom any son in the world might be proud. The countiy holds by him immensely, and he deserves their regard. Watch over him now you are at home, Pierre. He has some relentless and power- iul enemies who would injure him if they could. "That has he," remarked La Corne St. Luc, " I have spoken to the Sieur Philibert, and cautioned him, but he is not impressible on the subject of his own safety. The Intendant spoke savagely of him in public the other day." "Did he, Chevalier?" replied Philibert, his eyes flash- ing with another fire than that which had filled them look ing at Ame'lie, " He shall acco mt to me for his words, were he Regent instead of Intendant. ! " THE SOLDIER'S WELCOME. IV) La Come St. Luc looked half approvingly at Philibei '. " Don't quarrel with him yet, Pierre 1 You cannot make a quarrel of what he said, ye:." Lady de Tilly listened uneasily and said : '" Don't quarrel with him at all, Pierre Philibert ! Judge him and avoid him as a christian man should do. Gcd will deal with Bigot as he deserves. The crafty man will be caught in his own devices some day." " Oh, Bigot is a gentleman, aunt, too polite to insult any one," remarked Le Gardeur, impatient to defend one whom he regarded as a friend. " He is the prince of good fellows, and not crafty, I think, but all surface and sun- shine." "You never explored the depths of him, Le Gardeur," remarked La Corne. " I grant he is a gay, jesting, drink- ing and gambling fellow in company ; but, trust me, he is deep and dark as the Devil's cave that I have seen in the Ottawa country. It goes story under story, deeper and deeper, until the imagination loses itself in contemplating the bottomless pit of it. That is Bigot, Le Gardeur." " My censitaires report to me," remarked the Lady de Tilly, " that his commissaries are seizing the very seed-corn of the country. Heaven knows what will become of my poor people next year if the war continue ? " " What will become of the Province in the hands of Francois Bigot ? " replied La Corne St. Luc. " They say, Philibert, that a certain great lady at court, who is his part- ner or patroness, or both, has obtained a grant of your fathei 's sequestered estate in Normandy, for her relative, the Count de Marville. Had you heard of that, Philibert ? It is the latest news from France." " Oh yes, Chevalier ! Ill news like that never misses the mark it is aimed at. The news soon reached my father ! " ^ " And how does your father take it ? " " My father is a true philosopher. He takes it as Soc- rates might have taken it. He laughs at the Count de Marville, who will, he says, want to sell the estate before the year is out, to pay his debts of honor — the only debts he ever does pay." " If Bigot had anything to do with such an outrage," exclaimed Le Gardeur warmly, " I would renounce him oo the spot I have heard Bigot speak of this gift to D* to4 THE CHI EN />'•>#. Marville, whom he hates. He says it was all La Pompa dour's doing from first to last, and I believe it." " Well," remarked La Corne, " Bigot has plenty of sins of his own to answer for to the Sieur Philibert, on the day of accompt, without reckoning this among them." The loud report of a cannon shook the windows of the room, and died away in long repeated echoes among the distant hills. " That is the signal for the Council of War, my Lady," said La Corne. " A soldier's luck ! just as we were going to have music and heaven, we are summoned to field, camp or council." The gentlemen rose and accompanied the ladies to the drawing-room, and prepared to depart. Colonel Philibert took a courteous leave of the ladies of Tilly, looking in the eyes of Ame'lie for something, which, had she not turned them quickly upon a vase of flowers, he might have found there. She plucked a few sprays from the bouquet and handed them to him, as a token of pleasure at meeting him again in his own land. " Recollect, Pierre Philibert ! " said the Lady de Tilly, holding him cordially by the hand, " The manor house of Tilly is your second home, where you are ever welcome." Philibert was deeply touched by the genuine and state- ly courtesy of the lady. He kissed her hand with grate- ful reverence and bowing to both the ladies, accompanied La Corne St. Luc and Le Gardeur to the castle of St. Louis. Ame'lie sat in the recess of the window, resting her cheek upon her tremulous hand, as she watched the gentle- men proceed on their way to the castle. Her mind was overflowing with thoughts and fancies, new, enigmatical, yet delightful. Her nervous manner did not escape the loving eye of her aunt, but she spoke not. She was silent under the burthen of a secret joy that found not vent in words. Suddenly Ame'lie rose from the window and seated her- self, in her impulsive way, at the organ. Her fingers touched the keys timidly at first as she began a trembling prelude of her own fantasy. In music her pent up feel- ings found congenial expression. The fire kindled and she presently burst out with the voice of a seraph in that glorious psalm : the 116th. THE CASTLE CF ST. LOUIS. 105 Toto pectore d'ligam Unice et Dominum colam, Qui lenis mihi supplici Non duram appulit aurem. Aurem qui mihi supplici, Non duram dedit ; hunc ega Donee pectora spiritus Pulset semper, Amabo. The Lady de Tilly, half guessing the truth, would not *'ound the susceptibilities of her niece by appearing to do so, rose quietly from her seat and placed her arms gently round Amelie when she finished the psalm. She pressed her to her bosom, kissed her fondly, and without a word left her to find in music relief from her high-wrought feel- ings. Her voice rose in sweeter and loftier harmonies to the pealing of the organ as she sang to the end, the joyful yet solemn psalm in a version made for Queen Mary of France and Scotland, when life was good, hope all bright- ness, and dark days as if they would never come. CHAPTER XII. THE CASTLE OF ST. LOUIS. The Count de la Galissonniere, with a number of officers of rank, in full uniform, were slowly pacing up and down the long gallery that fronted the castle of St. Louis, wait- ing for the council of war to open, for although the hour had struck, the Intendant, and many other high officials of the Colony, had not yet arrived from Beaumanoir. The Castle of St. Louis, a massive structure of stone, ir.th square flanking towers, rose loftily from the brink of the precipice, overlooking the narrow, tortuous streets of the lower town. The steeple of the old Church of Notre Dame des Victoires, with its g'lded vane, lay far beneath the feet of the observer as he leaned over the balustrade of iron that guarded the gallery of the chateau. A hum of voices and dense sounds rose up from the market of Notre Dame, and from the quay where ships and bateaux were moored. The cries of sailors, carters and 1 06 THE CHIE AT D'OR. habitans in thick medley floated up the steep cliffs, pleas- ant sounds to the ear of the worthy Governor, who liked the honest noises of industry and labor better than all the music of the Academy. A few merchantmen which had run the blockade of the English cruisers lay at anchor in the stream, whert 'he broad river swept majestically round the bfty cape. In the midst of them a newly arrived King's ship, the Flcur de Lys, decorated with streamers, floated proudly like a swan among a flock of teal. Le Gardeur, as an officer of the garrison, went to report himself to the military commandant, while La Corne St. Luc and Colonel Philibert, proceeded to the gallery, where a crowd of officers were now assembled, waiting for the Council. The Governor at once called Philibert aside, and took his arm. " Philibert," said he, " I trust you had no diffi- culty in finding the Intendant?" " No difficulty, whatever, your Excellency. I discov- ered the Intendant and his friends, by ear, long before I got sight of them." An equivocal smile accompanied Philibert's words, which the Governor rightly interpreted. " Ah ! I understand, Philibert, they were carousing at that hour of daylight ? Were they all — ? Faugh ! I shame to speak the word. Was the Intendant in a condition to comprehend my summons ? " The Governor looked sad, rather than surprised or angry — for he had expected no less than Philibert had reported to him. " I found him less intoxicated, I think, than many of his guests. He received your message with more polite- ness than I expected, and promised to be here punctually at the hour for opening the Council." " Oh, Bigot never lacks politeness, drunk or sober : that strong intellect of his, seems to defy the power of wine, as his heart is proof against moral feeling. You did not pro- long ycur stay in Beaumanoir, I fancy ? " remarked the Governor, dinting the point of his cane into the floor. u I hastened out of t as I would out of hell itself ! After making prize of my friend De Repentigny, and bringing him off with me, as I mentioned to you, I got quickly out of *he Chateau." " You did rightly, Philibert ; the Intendant is ruining half the young men of birth in the Colony." THE CASTLE OF S"J'. LOL'IS. 107 " He shall not run Le Girdeur if I can save him," said Philibert, resolutely. " May I count upon your Ex- cellency's co-operation?" added he. "Assuredly, Philibert! Command me in anything you car. devise, to rescue that noble young fellow from the fatal companionship of Bigot. But I know not how long I shall be permitted to remain in New France : powerful i.itrigues are at work for my removal ! " added the Governor. " I care not tor the removal, so that it be not accompanied with insult." " Ah ! you have received news to-day by the frigate ? " said Philibert, looking down at the King's ship at anchor in the stream. " News ! yes, and such news, Philibert," replied the Governor, in a tone of despondency. " It needs the wis- dom of Solon to legislate for this land, and a Hercules to cleanse its Augean stables of official corruption. But mj influence at Court, is nil ; you know that, Philibert ? " " But while you are Governor, your advice ought to prevail with the King," replied Philibert. " My advice prevail ! listen, Philibert : my letters to the King and the Minister of Marine and Colonies, have been answered by whom, think you ? " " Nay, I cannot conceive who, out of the legal channel, would dare to reply to them." " No ! no man could guess, that my official despatches have been answered by the Marquise de Pompadour ! She replies to my despatches to my sovereign ! " " La Pompadour ! " exclaimed Philibert in a burst of indignation ; " She ! the King's mistress, reply to your despatches ! Has France come to be governed by courte- sans, like imperial Rome ? " " Yes ! and you know the meaning of that insult, Philibert ! They desire to force me to resign ; and I shall resign as soon as I see my friends safe. I will ser\e the K.ng in his fleet, but never more in a colony. This poor land is doomed to fall into the hands of its enemies, unless we get a speedy peace. France will help us no wore ! " " Don't say that, your Excellency ! France will surely never be untrue to her children in the New World! But our resources are not yet all exhausted : we are Dot driven to the wall yet, your Excellency ! " IO « THE CHIEN DtK. " Almost, I assure you, Philibert! But we shall under stand that better after the Council. "What say the despatches touching the negotiations going on for peace ? " asked Philibert, who knew how true were the Governor's vaticinations. " They speak favorably of peace, and I think correctly, Philibert ; and you know the King's armies and the King's mistresses cannot all be maintained at the same time — women or war, one or other must give way — and one need not doubt which it will be, when the women rule Court and camp in France, at the same time ! " " To think that a woman picked out of the gutters ot Paris, should rule France, and answer your despatches ! " said Philibert, angrily ; " it is enough to drive honorable Frenchmen mad. But what says the Marquise de Pompa- dour ? " " She is specially severe upon my opposing the fiscal measures and commercial policy, as she calls it, of her friend, the Intendant ! She approves of his grant of a monopoly of trade, to the Grand Company, and disputes my right, as Governor, to interfere with the Intendant in the finances of the Colony." Philibert felt deeply this wound to the honor and dignity of his chief. He pressed his hand in warmest sympathy. The Governor understood his feelings. " You are a true friend, Philibert," said he ; " Ten men like you might still save this colony ! But it is past the hour for the Council, and still Bigot delays ! He must have forgotten my summons." " I think not — but he might have to wait until Cadet, Varin, Deschenaux, and the rest of them, were in a con- dition fit to travel," answered Philibert with an air of dis- gust. " O Philibert ! the shame of it ! the shame of it ! for such thieves to have the right to sit among loyal, honor- able men," exclaimed, or rather groaned, the Governor. " They have the real power in New France, and we the empty title and the killing responsibility ! Dine with me to-night, after the Council, Ph. libert ; I have much to say to you." " Not to-night, your ExceLencj ! My father has killed the fatted calf for his returned prodigal, and I must din« with him to-night," answered Philibert. THE CASTLE OF ST. LOUTS. 109 " Right I Be it to-morrow, then I Come on Wednesday," replied the Governor. " Your father is a gentleman who carries the principles of true nobility into the walks oi trade ; you are happy in such a father, Philibert, as he is fortunate in such a son." The Governor bowed to his friend, and rejoined the groups of officers upon the Terrace. A flash and a column of smoke, white and sudden, rose from the great battery that flanked the chateau. It was the second signal for the Council to commence. The Count de la Galissoniere, taking the arm of La Corne St. Luc, entered the castle, and followed by the crowd of offi- cers, proceeded to the great Hall of Council and Audience. The Governor, followed by his secretaries, walked forward to the vice-regal chair, which stood on a dais, at the head of a long table covered with crimson drapery. On each side of the table, the members of the Council took the places assigned to them, in the order of theii rank and precedence ; but a long array of chairs remained unoccu- pied. These seats, belonging to the Royal Intendant and the other high officers of the Colony, who had not yet ar- rived to take their places in the Council, stood empty. The great hall of the Castle of St. Louis, was palatial in its dimensions and adornments. Its lofty coved ceiling, rested on a cornice of rich frieze of carved work, supported on polished pilasters of oak. The panels of wainscotting upon the walls, were surrounded by delicate arabesques, and hung with paintings of historic interest — portraits of the Kings, Governors, Intendants, and Ministers of State, who had been instrumental in the colonization of New France. Over the Governor's seat, hung a gorgeous escutcheon of the Royal arms, draped with a cluster of white flags, sprinkled with golden lilies — the emblems of French sovereignty in the Colony. Among the portraits on the walls, besides those of the late and present King — which hung on each side of the throne — might be seen the features of Richelieu, who first organized the rude settlements on the St. Lawrence, into a body politic — a reflex of feudal France ; and of Colbert, who made available its natural wealth and re- sources, by peopling it with the oest scions of the Mother Land — the noblesse aid peasantry of NDrmandy, Brittany, and Aquitairs. There, too, might be seen th« , , THE CHIEN D' JR. keen, bold features of Cartier, the first discoverer, and of Champlain, the first explorer of the new land, and the founder of Quebec. The gallar.t, restless Louis Buade de Frontenac, was pictured there, side by side, with his fair countess, called by reason of her surpassing loveliness, " The Divine." Vaudreuil, too, who spent a long life of devotion to his country, and Beauharnois, who nourished its young strength until it was able to resist, not only the powerful confederacy of the Five Nations, but the still more powerful league of New England and the other English Colonies. There, also, were seen the sharp in- tellectual face of Laval, its first bishop, who organized the Church and education in the Colony ; and of Talon, wisest of Intendants, who devoted himself to the improvement of agriculture, the increase of trade, and the well being of all the King's subjects, in New France. And one more striking portrait was there, worthy to rank among the statesmen and rulers of New France — the pale, calm, intellectual features of Mere Marie de l'lncarnation — the first superior of the Ursulines of Quebec, who in obedience to heavenly visions, as she believed, left France to found schools for the children of the new Colonists, and who taught her own womanly graces to her own sex, who were destined to become the future mothers of New France. In marked contrast with the military uniforms of the officers surrounding the Council-table, were the black robes and tonsured heads of two or three ecclesiastics, who had been called in by the Governor to aid the council with their knowledge and advice. There were the Abbe Metavet of the Algonquins of the North, Pere Oubal, the Jesuit mis- sionary of the Abenaquis of the East, and his confrere La Richardie, from the wild tribes of the Far West ; but con- spicuous among the able and influential missionaries, who were the real rulers of the Indian nations allied with France, was the famous Sulpicien, Abbe Piquet, " the King's missionary," as he was styled in Royal ordinances, and the Apostle to the Iroquois, whom he was laboring to convert and bring over to the side of France, in the great dispute raised between France and England for supremacy in North America. Upon the wall behind the Vice-Regal chair, hung a great map, drawn by the bo d hand of Abbe' Piquet, represent- ing the claims as veil as actual possessions of France, in THE CASTLE OF ST. LOUIS. \\\ America A broad red line \ egirning in Acadia, traversed the map westerly taking in Lake Ontario, and running south- erly along the crests and ridges of the Appalachian Moun- tains. It was traced with a firry hand down to far off Louisiana, claiming for France the great vallie? of the Ohio, the Mississippi, and the vast territories watered by the Missouri and the Colorado — thus hemming the En- glish in between the walls of the Appalachian range on the west, and the sea coast on the east. The Abbe Piquet had lately in a canoe descended the Belle Riviere, as the voyageurs called the noble Ohio. From its source to its junction with the solitary Mississippi, the Abbd had planted upon its conspicuous bluffs the ensigns of France, with tablets of lead bearing the Fleur de Lys, and the proud inscription, "Afanibus date lilia pknis.'" Lil- ies destined after a fierce struggle for empire to be tram- pled into the earth by the feet of the victorious English. The Abbd, deeply impressed with the dangers that im- pended over the Colony, labored zealously to unite the In- dian nations in a general alliance with France. He had already brought the powerful Algonquins and Nipissings into his scheme, and planted them at Two Mountains, as a bulwark to protect the city of Ville Marie. He had created a great schism in the powerful confederacy of the Five Nations, by adroitly fanning into a flame their jealousy of English encroachments upon their ancient territory on Lake Ontario ; and bands of Iroquois had, not long since, held conference with the Governor of New France, denouncing the English for disregarding their exclusive right to their own country. " The lands we possess," said they at a great council in Ville Marie—" the lands we possess were given to us by the Master of Life, and we acknowledge to hold of no other !" The Abbd had now strong hopes of perfecting a scheme, which he afterwards accomplished. A powerful body of the Iroquois left their villages and castles on the Mohawk and Gennessee rivers, and under the guidance of the Abbe', settled round the new Fort of La Presentation, on the St. Lawrence, and thus barred that way for the future, against the destructive inroads of their countrymen, who remained faithful to the English alliance. Pending the arrival of the Royal Intendant, the mem- bers of the Council indulged freely in conversation, more tf2 THE CHIEN &QR. or less bearing upon the important makers co be discussed, the state of he country, the movements of the enenrv and not seldom intermingled remarks of dissatisfaction and impatience at the absence of the Intendant. The revel at Beaumanoir was well known to them ; and eyes flashed, and lips curled in open scorn, at the well un- derstood reason of the Intendant's delay. " My private letters by the Fleur de Zys," remarked Beauharnois, "relate among other Court gossip, that orders would be sent out to stop the defensive works at Quebec, and pull down what is built ! They think the cost of walls round our city can be better bestowed on political favorites, and certain high personages at Court." Beauharnois Uirned towards the Governor : " Has your Excellency heard aught of this ? " asked he. "Yes ! It is true enough, Beauharnois ! I also have re ceived communications to that effect ! " replied the Gover- nor, with an effort at calmness, which ill concealed the shame and disgust that filled his soul. There was an indignant stir among the officers, and many lips seemed trembling with speech. The impetuous Rigaud de Vaudreuil broke the fierce silence. Tie struck his fist heavily on the table. "Ordered us to stop the building of thfr walls oi Quebec! and to pull down what we have done by virtue of the King's corvee ! — Did I hear your Excellency' right ?" repeated he in a tone of utmost incredulity. " The King is surely mad to think of such a thing!" "Yes, Rigaud ! It is as I tell you. But we must respect the royal command, and treat his Majesty's name as be- comes loyal servants. " Ventre saitit bleu ! — heard ever Canadian or Frenchman such moonshine madness ! I repeat it — your Excellency 1 dismantle Quebec ? How in God's name are the King's dominions and the King's subjects to be defended." Ri- gaud got warmer. He was fearless, and would, as every one knew, have out his say, had the King been present in per- son. "Be assured, your Excellency, it is not the King who orders that affront to his faithful colony. It is the King's Ministers — the King's mistresses — the snuff-box tapping courtiers at VersaiUes, who can spend the public money in more elegant ways than in raising up walls round our brave old city! Ancient hor or and chivalry of France I what has become of you ? " THE CASTLE OP iT. LOUIS. "3 Rigaud sat down angrily: iie emotion he displayed was too much in accord with the feelings of the gallant officers present, to excite other than marks of approbation, except among a few personal friends of the Intendant, who took their cue from the avowed wishes of the Court. "What reason does his Maiestygive ? " asked La Come St. Luc, "for this singular communication?" "The only reason given, is found in the concluding paragraph of the despatch. I will allow the Secretary to read so much of it, and no more, before the Intendant ar- rives." The Governor looked up at the great clock in the hall, with a grim glance of impatience — as if mentally calling down anything but a blessing upon the head of the loitering Intendant. " The Count de le Galissoniere ought to know," said the despatch sneeringly, " that works like those of Quebec are not to be undertaken by the Governors of Colonies, except under express orders from the King ; and therefore it is His Majesty's desire that, upon the reception of this dispatch, your Excellency will discontinue the works that have been begun upon Quebec. Extensive fortifications re- quire strong garrisons for their defence, and the King's treasury is already exhausted by the extraordinary expenses of the war in Europe. It cannot at the same Jime carry on the war in Europe and meet the heavy draughts made upon it, from North America." The Secretary folded the despatch, and sat down with- out altering a line of his impassive face. Not so the majority of the officers round the table : they were excited, and ready to spring up in their indignation. The King's name restrained them all but Rigaud de Vaudreuil, who impetuously burst out with an oath, exclaiming : " They may as well sell New France at once to the enemy, if we are not to defend Quebec ! The treasury wants money for the war in Europe forsooth ! No doubt it wants money for the war, when so much is lavished upon the pimps, pan- ders and harlots of the Court ! " The Governor rose suddenly — striking the table with his scabbard to stop Rigaud in his rash and dangerous speech. " Not a word more of comment, Chevalier Rigaud 1 " said he, with a sharp impej ativ 2 tone that cut short de- bate ; "not another wjrd ! T iis Majesty's name and thos« il 4 THE CHIEN D'OR. of his Ministers must be spoken here respectfully, cr not at all ! Sit down, Chevalier de Vaudreuil ; you are incon- siderate." " I obey your Excellency — I am, I dare say, inco.isider- ate ! but I am right ! " Rigaud's passion was subsiding, but not spent. He obeyed the order, however. He had had his say, and flung himself heavily upon his chair. "The King's despatch demands respectful and loyal consideration," remarked DeLery, a solid grave officer of engineers, " and I doubt not that upon a proper remon- strance from this aouncil, His Majesty wil. graciously re- consider his order. The fall of Louisbourg is ominous of the fall of Quebec. It is imperative to fortify the city in time to meet the threatened invasion. The loss of Quebec would be the loss of the Colony ; and the loss of the Colony, the disgrace of France and the ruin of our country." "I cordially agree with the Chevalier DeLery," said La Corne St. Luc. " He has spoken more sense than would be found in a ship load of such despatches as that just read ! Nay, your Excellency," continued the old offi- cer smiling — " I shall not affront my sovereign, by believ- ing that so ill-timed a missive came from him ! Depend upon it, His Majesty has neither seen nor sanctioned it. It is the work of the Minister and his mistresses not the King's." " La Corne ! La Corne ! " The Governor raised his finger with a warning look. " We will not discuss the point further, until we are favored with the presence and opinion of the Intendant. He will surely be here shortly ! " At this moment a distant noise of shouting was heard in some part of the city. An officer of the day, entered the Hall in great haste, and whispered something in the Governor's ear : — " A riot in the streets ! " exclaimed the Governor " The mob attacking the Intendant ! You do not say so I Captain Duval, turn out the whole guard at once, and let Colonel St. Remy take the command, and clear the way foi the Intendant, and also clear the streets of all disturbers.' A number of officers sprang to their feet. " Keep seated, gentlemen ! We must not break up the council," said the Governor. "We are sure to have the Intendant here in a few minutes, and learn the cause of this uproar. It Ls some trifling affair of noisy habitans, I have no doubt." THE CASTLE 0/ ST LOUIS. "J Another loud shout— "-or rather ye.l made itself distinctly heard in the Council Chamber. " It is the people, cheer- ing the Intendant on his way through the city ! " remarked La Corne St. Luc, ironically. " Zounds ! what a vcuarmt they make ! See what it is to be popular with the citizens of Quebec." There was a smile al: round the table, at La Corne's sarcasm. It offended a few friends of the Intendant, how- ever. " The Chevalier La Corne speaks boldly in the absence of the Intendant," said Colonel Leboeuf. " A gentleman would give a Louis d'or any day to buy a whip to lash the rabble, sooner than a sou to win their applause ! I would "iot give a red herring for the good opinion of all Quebec ! " " They say in France, Colonel," replied La Corne " St. Luc, scornfully, 'that King's chaff is better than other people's corn, and that fish in the market is cheaper than fish in the sea ! ' I believe it — and can prove it to any gentleman who maintains the contrary ! " There was a laugh at La Corne's allusion to the Mar- quise de Pompadour, whose original name, of Jeanne Pois- son, gave rise to infinite jests and sarcasms among the peo- ple of low and high degree. Colonel Leboeuf, choleric as he was, refrained from pressing the quarrel with La Corne St. Luc. Pie sat sulkily smothering his wrath — longing to leave the Hall and go to the relief of the Intendant — but kept against his will by the command of the Governor. The drums of the Main Guard beat the assembly. The clash of arms and the tramp of many fee: resounded from the court-yard of the Chateau. The members of the Council looked out of the windows as the troops formed in column, and headed bj Colonel St. Remy, defiled out of the Castle gate ; the thunder of their drums drowning tvery other sound aj i making the windows shake, as they insurched through the narrow street* to ths scene of dis- turbance. CHAPTER XII i THE CHIEN d'DR. Jn the Rue Buade, a street commemorative of the gal Iain Frontenac, stood the large, imposing edifice newly built b\ the Bourgeois Philibert, as the people of the Col- ony fondly called Nicholas Jaquin Philibert, the great and wealthy merchant of Quebec, and their champion against the odious monopolies of the grand Company, favored by the Intendaut. The edifict was of stone, spacious and lofty, but in style solid, plain and severe. It was a wonder of archi- tecture in New France, and the talk and admiration of the Colony from Tadousac to Ville Marie. It comprized the city residence of the Bourgeois as well as suites of offices and ware-rooms connected with his immense business. The house was bare of architectural adornments ; but on its facade, blazing in the sun, was the gilded sculpture that so much piqued the curiosity of both citizens and strangers, and was the talk of every seigneurie in the land. The tablet of the Chien Uor— the Golden Dog with its enig- matical inscription, looked down defiantly upon the busy street beneath, where it is still to be seen, perplexing the beholder to guess its meaning, and exciting our deepest sympathies over the tragedy of which it remains the sole sad memorial. Above and beneath the figure of a couchant dog, know- ing the thigh bone of a man, is graven the weird inscrip- tion, cut deeply in the stone, as if for all future generatiooj to read and ponder over "ts meaning : — " Je suis un chien qui ronge l'os, En le rongeant je prends mon rej.c* Un temps viendra qui n'est pas vena Que je mord :ai qui m'aura mordu." I73 6 - Or in English : — "-I am a dog .hat gnaws his bone, I couch anrl gnaw it all alone — A time mil come, which is not yet, When I'll bite him by whom I'm W*. ' THE CHI EN D'OR. ,,. The magazines of the Bourgeois Philibeit presented not only an epiton.e, but a substantial portion of the com- merce of New France. Bales of furs, which had been brought down in fleets of canoes from the wild, almost un- known regions of the Northwest, lay piled up to the beams ; skins of the smooth beaver, the delicate otter, black and silver fox, so rich to the eye and silky to the touch, that the rxoudest beauties longed for their possession ; seal skins to trim the gowns of portly burgomasters, and ermine to adorn the robes of nobles and kings. The spoils of the wolf, bear and buffalo, worked to the softness of cloth by the hands of Indian women, were stored for winter wear, and to fill the sledges with warmth and comfort when the northwest wind freezes the snow to fine dust, and the aurora borealis moves in stately procession, like an army of spearmen, across the northern sky. The har- vests of the colonists, the corn, the wool, the flax, the tim- ber (enough to build whole navies), and mighty pines fit to mast the tallest admiral, were stored upon the wharves and in the warehouses of the Bourgeois upon the banks of the St. Lawrence, with iron from the royal forges of the Three Rivers, and heaps of ginseng from the forests, a product worth its weight in gold, and eagerly exchanged by the Chinese for their teas, silks, and syce silver. The stately mansion of Belmont overlooking the pictur- esque valley of the St. Charles, was the residence proper of the Bourgeois Philibert, but the shadow that in time falls over every hearth had fallen upon his, when the last of his children, his beloved son Pierre, left home to pursue his mili- tary studies in France. During Pierre's absence the home at Belmont, although kept up with the same strict atten- tion which the Bourgeois paid to everything under his rule, was not occupied by him. He preferred his city mansion, as more convenient for his affairs, and resided therein. His partner of many years of happy wedded life had been long dead ; she left no void in his heart that another could fill, but he kept up a large household for friendship sake, and was lavish in his hospitality. In secret he was a grave, solitary man, caring for the present only for the sake of the thousands dependant on him — living much with the memory of the dear dead, and much with the hope of the future in h/s son Pierre. The Bourgeo' s was a m> n vorth looking at, and, at , x 8 THE CHI EN D'OR. glance, one to trus: to, whether you seaght the strong hand to help, the wise head to counsel, or the feeling heart to sympathize with you. He was tall, and strongly knit, with fea tures of a h gh patrician cast, a noble head, covered thick with grizzly hair — one of those heads so tenacious of life, that they never grow bald, but carry to the grave the snows of a hundred years. His quick grey eyes caught youi meaning ere it was halt spoken. A nose and chin moulded with beauty and precision, accentuated his hand- some face. His lips were grave even in their smile, for gaiety was rarely a guest in the heart of the Bourgeois. A man keenly susceptible to kindness, but strong in resent- ments and not to be placated without the fullest atone- ment. The Bourgeois sat by the table in his spacious, well furnished drawing room, which overlooked the Rue Buade, and gave him a glimpse of the tall new cathedral and the trees and gardens of the seminary. He was engaged in reading letters and papers just arrived from France by the frigate, rapidly extracting their contents and pencilling on their margins memos, for further reference to his clerks. The only other occupant of the room was a very elderly lady, in a black gown of rigid Huguenot fashion. A close white cap, tied under her chin, set off to the worst advantage her sharp, yet kindly, features. Not an end of ribbon or edge of lace could be seen to point to one hair- breadth of indulgence in the vanities of the world by this strict old Puritan, who, under this unpromising exterior, possessed the kindliest heart in Christendom. Her dress, if of rigid severity, was of saintly purity, and almost pained :he eye with, its precision and neatness. So fond are we of some freedom from over-much care as from over- much righteousness, that a stray tress, a loose ribbon, a little rent even, will relieve the eye and hold it with a sub tie charm. Under the snow white hair of Dame Rochelk — for she it was — the worthy old housekeeper and ancient governess of the House of Philibert, you saw a kind, in telligent face. Her dark eyes betrayed her Southern origin confirmed by her speech, which, although refined by cul ture, still retained 'he soft intonation and melody of hei native Laiguedoc. Dame Roche lie tl 2 dai^hter of an ardent Calvinist THE CHIEN ETOR. "* minister, wat borr. in the fatal year of the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, when Louis XIV. ui did the glorious work of Henri Quatre, and covered France with persecu- tion and civil war, filling fcreign countries with the elect of her population, her industry and her wealth, exiled in the name of religion. Dame Rochelle's childhood had passed in the trying scenes of the great persecution; and in the succeeding civil wars of the Cevennes, she lost all that was nearest and dearest to her — her father, her brothers, her kindrei nearly all, and lastly a gallant gentleman of Dauphiny, to whom she was betrothed. She knelt beside him at his place of execution — or martyrdom, for he died for his faith — and holding his hands in hers, pledged her eter- nal fidelity to his memory, and faithfully kept it all her life. The Count de Philibert, elder brother of the Bourgeois, was an officer of the King ; he witnessed this sad scene, took pity upon the hapless girl, and gave her a home and pro- tection with his family in the Chateau of Philibert, where she spent the rest of her life until the Bourgeois succeeded to his childless brother. In the ruin of his house she would not consent to leave them, but followed their fortunes to New France. She had been the faithful friend and com- panion of the wife of the Bourgeois and the educator of his children, and was now, in her old age, the trusted friend and manager of his household. Her days were divided between the exercises of religion and the prac- tical duties of life. The light that illumined her, though flowing through the narrow window of a narrow creed, was still light of divine origin. It satisfied her faith, and filled her with resignation, hope, and comfort. Her three studies were the Bible, the hymns of Maiot, and the sermons of the famous Jurieu. She had listened to the prophecies of Grande Marie, and had even herseli been breathed upon on the top of Mount Peira by the Huguenot prophet De Serre. Good Dame Rochelle was not without a feeling that at times the spiritual gift she had received when a girl made itself manifest by ir.tuitions of the future, which were, after all, perhaps only in anations of her natural gocd sens': and clear intellect — rhe foresight of a pure mind. The wasting persecutions of the Calvinists 'n the moun I20 . THE CHIE17 D'OR. tains of the Cevennes, drove men and women wild with desperate fanaticism. De Serre had an immense follow- ing. He assumed to impart the Holy Spirit and the gift of tongues by breathing upon the believers. The refugees carried his doctrines to England, and handed down their singular ideas to modern times ; and a sect may still be found which believes in the gift of tongues and practices the power of prophecying, as taught originally in the Cevennes. The good dame was not reading this morning, although the volume before her lay open. Her glasses lay upon the page, and she sat musing by the open window, seldom looking out, however, for her thoughts were chiefly inward. The return of Pierre Philibert, her foster child, had filled her with joy and thankfulness, and she was pondering in her mind the details of a festival which the Bourgeois in- tended to give in honor of the return of his only son. The Bourgeois had finished the reading of his packet of letters, and sat musing in silence. He, too, was intently thinking of his son. His. face was filled with the satisfac- tion of old Simeon when he cried out of the fullness of his heart: "Dominel nunc dimittis J '" " Dame Rochelle," said he. She turned promptly to the voice of her master, as she ever insisted on calling him. "Were I superstitious, I should fear that my great joy at Pierre's return might be the prelude to some great sorrow." " God's blessing on Pierre ! " said she ; " he can only bring joy to this house. Thank the Lord for what he gives and what He takes ! He took Pierre, a stripling from his home, and returns him a great man, fit to ride at the King's right hand, and to be over his host like Benaiah, the son of Jehoiada, over the host of Solomon." " Grand merci for the comparison, Dame ! " said the Bourgeois smiling, as he leaned back in his chair. " But Pierre is a Frenchman, and would prefer commanding a brigade in the army of the Marshal de Saxe to being over the host of King Solomon. But," continued he, gravely, " I am strangely happy to-day, Deborah," — he was wont to call her Deborah when very earnest — " and I will not anticipate any mischief to mar my happiness. Pshaw ! It is only the reaction of ovir-excited feelings. I am weak in the strength cf my joy.' THE CHIEN HOR. i2i " The still small vsice speaks to us in that way, Master, to remind us to place our trust in Heaven, not on earth, where all is transitory and uncertain ; for if a man live many years, and rejoice in them all, let him remember the days of darkness, for they are many ! We are no strangers to the vanity and shadows of human life, Master ! Pierre's return is like sunshine breaking through the clouds. God is pleased if we bask in the sunshine when he sends it." " Right, Dame ! and so we will ! The old walls of Bel- mont shall ring with rejoicing over the return of their heir and future owner." The Dame looked up delightedly at the remark of the Bourgeois. She knew he had destined Belmont as a resi- dence for Pierre ; but the thought suggested in her mind was perhaps the same which the Bourgeois had mused upon when he gave expression to a certain anxiety. " Master," said she, " does Pierre know that the Chevalier Bigot was concerned in the false accusations against you, and that it was he, prompted by the Cardinal and the Princess de Carignan, who enforced the unjust decree of the Court ? " "I think not, Deborah. I never told Pierre that Bigot was ever more than the avocat du Roi in my persecu- tion. It is what troubles me amidst my joy. If Pierre knew that the Intendant had been my false accuser on the part of the Cardinal, his sword would not rest a day in its scabbard without calling Bigot to a bloody account. In- deed, it is all I myself can do to refrain. When I met him for the first time here, in the Palace gate, I knew him again, and looked him fill in the eyes, and he knew me. _ He is a bold hound, and glared back at me without shrinking. Had he smiled I should have struck him ; but we passed in silence with a salute as mortal as enemies ever gave each other. It is well, perhaps, I wore not my sword that day, for I felt my passion rising — a thing I abhor. Pierre's young blood would not remain still if he knew the Inten- dant as I know him. But I dare not tell him ! There would be bloodshed at once, Deborah ! " " I fear so, Master ! I trembled at Bigot in the old land ; I tremble at him here, where he is more powerfu than before. I saw him passing one day. He stopped tc read the inscription of the Golden Dog. His face was the face of a fiend as he rode hastily away. He knew well how to interpret it " t £2 THE CHIEN IT OR. "Ha! you did not tell me that before, Deborah!* The Bourgeois rose excitedly. " Bigot read it all, did he . I hope every etter of it was branded on his soul as with red-hot iron ! ' " Dear Master, that is an unchristian saying, and no- thing good can come of it. ' Vergeance is mine, saith the Lord i ' Our worst enemies are best left in His hands." The Dame was proceeding in a still more moralizing strain, when a noise arose in the street from a crowd of persons, habitans for the most part, congregated round the house. The noise increased to such a degree that they stopped their conversation, and both the Dame and the Bourgeois looked out of the window at the increasing multi- tude that had gathered in the street. The crowd had come to the Rue Buade, to see the famous tablet of the Golden Dog, which was talked of in every seigneurie in New France ; still more, perhaps, to see the Bourgeois Philibert himself — the great merchant, who contended for the rights of the habitans, and who would not yield an inch to the Friponne. The Bourgeois looked down at the ever-increas"ng throng, country-people for the most part, with their wives with not a few citizens whom he could easily distinguish by their dress and manner. The Bourgeois stood rathe! withdrawn from the front, so as not to be recognized, tor he hated intensely anything like a demonstration, still less an ovation. He could hear many loud voices, however, in the crowd, and caught up the chief topics they discussed with each other. His eyes rested several times on a wiry, jerking little fellow, whom he recognized as Jean La Marche, the fiddler, a censitaire of the manor of Tilly. He was a well known character, and had drawn a large circle of the crowd around himself. " I want to see the Bourgeois Philibert ! " exclaimed J«an La Marche. " He is the bravest merchant in New France — the people's friend Bless the Golden Dog, and curse the Friponne ! " " Hurrah for the Golden Dog, and curse the Friponne I " exclaimed a score of voices ; " won't you sing, Jean ? " "Not na v; I have a new ballad ready on the Golden Dog, which I shall sinj to-night — that is, if you will care to listen to me." Tean said 'his with a •ery demure air ol 1 HE CHIEN J? OR. mock modesty, knowing well that t new ballad from him would equal the f/ *? ^ ind from the prima donna of the opera at ' *■ " We will all come to hear it, Jean take care of your fiddle, or you will crowd." " As if I did not know how to ta^ bab) ! " said Jean, holding his violin .. _ " It is my only child ; it will laugh or cry, au^ scold, as I bid it, and make everybody else do the san,^ when I touch its heart-strings." Jean had brought his violin under his arm, in place of a spade, to help build up the walls of the city. He had never heard of Amphion, with his lyre, building up the walls of Thebes ; but Jean knew that in his violin lay a power of work, by other hands, if he played while they labored. " It lightened toil and made work go merrily as the bells of Tilly at a wedding ; " said he. There was immense talk, with plenty of laughter and no thought of mischief, among the crowd. The habitam of en haut and the habitans of en bas commingled, as they rarely did, in a friendly way. Nor was anything to pro- voke a quarrel said even to the Acadians, whose rude patois was * source of merry jest to the better-speaking Canadians The Acadians had flocked in great numbers into Quebec, on the seizure of their Province by the English — sturdy, robust, quarrelsome fellows, who went about chai lenging people in their reckless way, — Etions pas mon mditre monsieur 1 — but all were civil to-day, and tuques were pulled off, and bows exchanged, in a style of easy polite- ness that would not have shamed the streets of Paris. The crowd kept increasing in the Rue Buade. The rwo sturdy beggars, who vigorously kept their places on the stone steps of the barrier or gateway of the Basse Ville, reaped an unusual harvest of the smallest coin — Max Gnmau, an old disabled soldier, in ragged uniform, which he had worn at the defence of Prague, under the Marshal de Belleisle, and blind Bartemy, a mendicant born ; the former, loud tongued and importunate, the latter, silent and only holding out a shaking hand for charity. No Finance Minister or Royal Intendant studied more earnestly the problem how to ttu the kingdom, than Max and Blind THE ClIIEiV POM. *** ceniy how to toll the passers-by, and with less success, ,fhaps. J" To-day was a ;ed-le'.ter day for the sturdy beggars, for the news flew fa&c that an ovation of some popular kind was to be given to the Bourgeois Philibert. The habitans came trooping up the rough mountain-road that leads from the Basse Ville to the Upper Town, and up the long stairs, lined with the stalls of Basque pedlars, cheating, loqua- cious varlets ; which formed a by-way from the lower regions of the Rue de Champlain, a break-neck thoroughfare, little liked by the old and asthmatical, but nothing to the sturdy " climbers," as the habitans called the lads of Quebec, or the light-footed lasses, who displayed their trim ankles, as they flew up the breezy steps to church or market. Max Grimau and Blind Bartemy had ceased counting their coins. The passers-by came up in still increasing num- bers, until the street, from the barrier of the Basse Ville to the Cathedral, was filled with a noisy, good-humored crowd, without an object, except to stare at the Golden Dog, and a desire to catch a glimpse of the Bourgeois Philibert. The crowd Lad become very dense, when a troop of gentlemen rode at full speed into the Rue Buade, and, after trying recklessly to force their way through, came to a sudden halt, in the midst of the surging mass. The Intendant, Cadet and Varin, had ridden from Beaumanoir, followed by a train of still flushed guests, who, after a hasty purification, had returned with their host to the city — a noisy troop, loquacious, laughing, shouting, as is the wont of men, reckless at all times, and still more defiant, when under the influence of wine. " What is the meaning of this rabble, Cadet ? " asked Bigot ; " they seem to be no friends of yours. That fellow is wishing you in a hot place ! " added Bigot, laughing, as he pointed out a habitan who was shouting " Abas Cadet I" " Nor friends of yours, either," replied Cadet. " They have not recognized you yet, Bigot. When they do, they will wish you in the hottest place of all ! " The Intendant was not known personally to the habi tans, as were Cadet, Varin and the rest Loud shouts and execrations were freely vented agains: these, as soon as they were recognir.ed. " Has this rab')le waylaid us to insult us ? " asked Bigot. But it can hardly be that they knew of our return to the THf. CHIEN D OR. »s city to-day." The Intendant began to jerk his horse round impatiently, but without avail. "Oh, no, your Excellency! it is the rabble which the Governor has summoned to the King's corvee. They are paying their respects to the Golden Dog, which is the idol the mob worships just now. They did not expect us to interrupt their devotions, I fancy." " The vile moutons ! their fleece is not worth the shearing ! " exclaimed Bigot, angrily, at the mention of the Golden Dog, which, as he glanced upwards seemed to glare defiantly upon .iim. "Clear the way, villains!" cried Bigot, loudly, while darting his horse into the crowd. " Plunge that Flanders cart-horse of yours into them, Cadet, and do not spare their toes I " Cadet's rough disposition chimed well with the Inten- dant's wish. " Come on, Varin, and the rest of you," cried he, " give spur and fight your way through the rabble." The whole troop plunged madly at the crowd striking right and left with their heavy hunting whips. A violent scuffle ensued ; many habitans were ridden down and some of the horsemen dismounted. The Intendant's Gas- con blood got furious. He struck heavily, right and left, and many a bleeding tuque marked his track in the crowd. The habitans recognized him at last, and a tremen- dous yell burst out. " Long live the Golden Dog ! Down with the Friponne ! " while the more bold ventured on the cry. " Down with Lie Intendant, and the thieves of the Grand Company ! " Fortunately for the troop of horsemen, the habitans were utterly unarmed. But stones began to be thrown, and efforts were made by them, not always unsuccessfully, to pull the riders off their horses. Poor Jean La Marche's darling child, his favorite viol'n, was crushed at the first charge Jean rushed at the In endant's bridle, and received & blow which evelled him. The Intendant and all the troop now drew their swords. A bloody catastrophe seemed impending, when the Bour- geois Philiberi, seeing the state of affairs dispatched a messenger with tidings to the Castle of St. Louis, and rushed himself into the street amidst the surging crowd Imploring, threatening and compelling them to give way. He was soon recognized, and cheered by the people ; I 2 6 THE CHI EN HOR but even his influence might have failed to calm the fiery passions excited by the Intendant's violence, had not the drums of the approaching soldiery suddenly resounded above the noise of the riot. In a few minutes, long files of glittering bayonets vi ere seen streaming down the Rue du Fort. Colonel St. Remi rode at their head, forming his troops in position to charge the crowd. The Colonel saw at once the state of affairs, and being a man of judg- ment, commanded peace before resorting to force. He was at once obeyed. The people stood still and in silence. They fell back quietly before the troops. They had no purpose to resist the authorities, — indeed, had no purpose whatever. A way was made clear by the soldiers, and the Intendant and his friends were extricated from their danger They rode at once out of the mob, amid a volley of execrations, which were replied to by angry oaths and threats of the cavaliers as they galloped across the Place d'Armes, and rode pell-mell into the gateway of the Chateau of St. Louis. The crowd, relieved of their presence, grew calm ; and some of the more timid of them got apprehensive of the consequences of this outrage upon the Royal Intendant. They dispersed quietly, singly, and in groups, each one hoping that he might not be called upon to account for the day's proceedings. The Intendant and his cortege of friends rode furiously into the court-yard of the Chateau of St. Louis, dishevelled, bespattered and some of them hatless. They dismounted, and foaming with rage, rushed through the lobbies and with heavy trampling of feet, clattering of scabbards, and a bedlam of angry tongues, burst into the Council Cham- ber. The Intendant's eyes shot fire. His Gascon blood was at fever heat, flushing his swarthy cheek like the purple hue of a hurricane. He rushed at once to the Council table, and seeing the Governor, saluted him, but spoke in tones forcibly kept under by a violent effort. " Your Excellency and Gentlemen of the Council will excuse our delay," shouted Bigot, "when I inform you that /, the Royal Intendant of New France, have been insulted, pelted, and my very life threatened by a seditious mob congregated in the streets of Quebec." " 1 grieve much and sympathize with your Excellency'* THE CHI EN DOR. 127 indignation," replied the Governor, warmly, "I rejoice you have escaped unhurt. I dispa ched the troops to your assistance, but have not yet learned the cause of the riot." " The cause of the riot was the popular hatred of my- self, for enforcing the Royal ordinances, and the seditious example set the rabble by the notorious merchant, Phili bert, who is at the bottom of all mischief in New France." The Governor looked fixedly at the Intendant, as he replied quietly: "The Sieur Philibert, although a mer- chant, is a gentleman of birth and loyal principles, and would be the last man alive, I think, to excite a riot. Did you see the Bourgeois, Chevalier ? " " The crowd filled the street near his magazines, cheer- ing for the Bourgeois and the Golden Dog. We rode up and endeavored to force our way through. But I did not see the Bourgeois, himself, until the disturbance had at- tained its full proportions." " And then, your Excellency? Surely the Bourgeois was not encouraging the mob, or participating in the riot ? " "No! I do not charge him with participating in the riot, although the mob were all his friends and partisans. Moreover," said Bigot, frankly, for he felt he owed his safety to the interference of the Bourgeois, " it would be unfair not to acknowledge that he did what he could to protect us from the rabble. I charge Philibert with sowing the sedition that caused the riot, not with rioting himself." '' But I accuse him of both, and of all the mob has done!" thundered Varin, enraged to hear the Intendant speak with moderation and justice. " The house of the Golden Dog is a den of traitors. It ought to be pulled down, and its stones built into a monument of infamy, over its owner, hung like a dog in the market-place." " Silence, Varin ! " exclaimed the Governor sternly. 1 1 will not hear the Sieur Philibert spoken of in these injurious terms. The Intendant does not charge him tfiih this disturbance ; neither shall you." ' Par Dicu I you shall not, Varin ! " burst in La Corne St. Luc, roused to unusual wrath by the opprobrium heaped jpon his friend the Bourgeois. " And you shall answer to me for that you have said ! " " La Corne ! La Corne ! " The Governor saw a chal- enge impend' ng, and inte, posed with vehemence. " Thi* ra g THE CHJEN D'OR. is a count. A war, and not a place for recriminations.. Sit down, dear c'id friend, and aid me to get on with the business of the King and his Colony, which we are hera met to consider." The appeal went to the heart of La Come. He sat down. " You have spoken generously, Chevalier Bigot respecting the Bourgeois Philibert," continued the Gover nor. " I am pleased that you have done so. My aide- de-Camp, Colonel Philibert, who is just entering the Council, will be glad to hear that your Excellency does justice to his father in this matter." " The blessing of St. Bennet's boots upon such justice," muttered Cadet to himself. " I was a fool not to run my sword through Philibert, when I had the chance." The Governor repeated to Colonel Philibert what had been said by Bigot. Colonel Philibert bowed to the Intendant. " I am under obligation to the Chevalier Bigot," said he, " but it astonishes me much that any one should dare implicate my father in such a disturbance. Certainly the Intendant does him but justice." This remark was not pleasing to Bigot, who hated Colonel Philibert equally with his father. " I merely said he had not participated in the riot, Colonel Philibert, which was true. I did not excuse your father for being at the head of the party among whom these outrages arise. I simply spoke truth, Colonel Philibert. I do not eke out by the inch my opinion of any man. I care not jx the Bourgeois Philibert, more than for the meanest blue cap in his following." This was an ungracious speech. Bigot meant it to be such. He repented almost of the witness he had borne *-> the Bourgeois' endeavors to quell the mob. But he was &5D profoundly indifferent to men's opinions lesnecting himseif to care to lie. Truth was easier than lying, and suited better his moral hardihood. Not that < he loved truth for its own sake — far from it ; but lying is born ekoeper. " Did he say that, good Dame ? God bless you, and bless him for those words I " Her eyes rilled with tears at the thought of his tenderness, which, although half fictitious, she wholly believed. " Yes, Dame ! " continued she. " It is my most earnest desire to be secluded from all visitors. I wish to see no one, but yourself. Have you many visitors, ladies I mean, at the Chateau ? "' " Oh yes j the ladies of the city are not likely to forget the invitations to the balls and dinners of the bachelor Intendant of New France. It is the most fashionable thing in the city, and every lady is wild to attend them. There is one, the handsomest and gayest of them all, who they say, would not object even to become the bride of the Intendant." It was a careless shaft of the old Dame's, but it went to the heart of Caroline. " Who is she, good Dame ? — pray tell me ! " " Oh, my Lady, I should fear her anger, if she knew what I say. She is the most terrible coquette in the city. Wor- shipped by the men, and hated of course, by the women, who all imitate her in dress and style, as much as they pos- sibly can, because they see it takes ! But every woman fears for either husband or lover, when Angelique des Me loises is her rival." M Is that her name ? 1 never heard it before, Dame ! n remarked Caroline, with a shudder. She felt instinctively that the name was one of direful omen to herself. " Pray God you may never have reason to hear it again," replied Dame Tremblay. "She it was who went to the mansion of the Sieur Tom mgeau, and with her riding whip 'ashed ;he mark cf a red cross upon the forehead of his daughter, Cecile, scarring her forever; because she had presumed to smile kindly upon a young officer, a handsome fellow, Le Gardeur de Repentigny, whom any woman might be pardoned for admiring ! " added the old Dame, with a natural touch of the candor of her youth. " If An- geUique takes a fancy to the Intendant, it will be danger- ous for any other woman to stand in her way ! " I44 THE CHI EN D'OK. Caroline gave a frightened look, at the Dame's descrijy tion of a possible rival in the Intenda it's love. "You know more of her, Dame ! Tell me all ! Tell me the worst I have to learn ! " pleaded the poor girl. " The worst, my Lady ! I fear no one can tell the worst of Angelique des Meloises ; at least would not dare to Although I know nothing bad of her, except that she would like to have all the men to herself, and so spite all the wo- men ! " " Bui she must regard that young officer, with more than common affection, to have acted so savagely to Mademoi- selle Tourangeau ? " Caroline, with a woman's quickness, had caught at that gleam of hope through the darkness. "O yes, my Lady. All Quebec knows that Angdlique loves the Seigneur de Repentigny, for nothing is a secret in Quebec, if more than one person knows it, as I myself well recollect; for when I was the Charming Josephine, my very whispers were all over the city by the next dinner hour ; and repeated at every table, as gentlemen cracked their almonds, and drank their wine in toasts to the Charming Josephine." " Pshaw ! Dame ! Tell me about the Seigneur de Re- pentigny ! Does Ange'lique des Meloises love him, think you ? " Caroline's eyes were fixed like stars upon the D" )R. The Dame, holding between ner thumb and finger % little china cup of tea, well laced, she called it, w"th Cognac remarked : " They fairly run the Intendant down, Froumois i There is not a girl in the city but laces ner boots to d ; s traction since it came out that the Intendant admires i neat, trim ankle. I had a trim ankle myself when 1 wa.* the Charming Josephine, Mons. Froumois ! " " And you have yet, Dame, — If I am a judge — re plied Froumois, glancing down with an air of gallantry. " And you are accounted a judge — and ought to be a good one, Froumois ! A gentleman can't live at court as you have done, and learn nothing of the points of a fine woman ! " The good Dame liked a compliment as well as ever she had done at Lake Beauport in her hey-day of youth and beauty. "Why, no, Dame," replied he ; " one can't live at court and learn nothing ! We study the points of fine women as we do fine statuary in the gallery of the Louvre. Only the living beauties will compel us to see their best points, if they have them." Mons. Froumois looked very critical, as he took a pinch from the Dame's box, which she held out to him. Her hand and wrist were yet unexceptionable, as he could not help remarking. " But what think you, really, of our Quebec beauties ? Are they not a good imitation of Versailles ? " asked the Dame. " A good imitation ! They are the real porcelain ! For beauty and affability, Versailles cannot exceed them. So says the Intendant, and so say I," replied the gay valet. " Why, look you, Dame Tremblay," continued he, extend- ing his well-ringed fingers. " They do give gentlemen no end of hopes here ! We have only to stretch out our ten digits and a lady bird will light on every one of them ! Ii was so at Versailles — it is just so here. The ladies in Quebec do knew how to appreciate a real gentleman ! " " Yes, that is what makes the ladies of Ville Marie so jealous atid angry," replied the Dame ; " the King's officers and all the great catches land at Quebec first, when they come out from France ; and we take toll of them ! We don't let a gentleman of them get up to Ville Marie with- out a Quebecengagement tackel to his back, so that aii Ville Marie can read it, and die of pure spite! I say we, Froumois ; but you understand I speak of myself only a.* FrlE LH I R MING JOSEPHINE. lS i the Charmingjosephine of Lake Beauport. I must con- tent myself now with telling over my past glories." "Well Dame, I don't know. But you are glorious yet i But tell me,wnat has got over my master to-day ? Was the un- known lady unkind ? Something has angered him,I am sure !* " I cannot tell you, Froumois ! Women's moods are not co be explained, even by themselves." The Dame had been sensibly touched by CaroVine's confidence in her, and she was too loyal to her sex to repeat even to Froumois her recent conversation with Caroline. They found plenty of other topics, however, and over the tea and Cognac, the Dame and valet passed an hour of delightful gossip. Caroline, left to the solitude of her chamber, sat silent- ly with her hands clasped in her lap. Her thoughts pressed inward upon her. She looked out without seeing the fair landscape before her eyes. Tears and sorrow she had welcomed in a spirit of bit- ter penitence for her fault in loving one who no longer re- garded her. " I do not deserve any man's regard," mur- mured she, as she laid her soul on the rack of self-accusa- tion, and wrung its tenderest fibres with the pitiless rigor of a secret inquisitor. She utterly condemned herself, while still trying to find some excuse for her unworthy lov- er. At times a cold half persuasion fluttering like a bird in the snow, came over her, that Bigot could not be utterly base. He could not thus forsake one who had lost all — name, fame, home, and kindred for his sake ! She clung to the few pitying words spoken by him as a shipwrecked sailor to the plank which chance has thrown in his way. It might float her for a few hours, and she was grateful. Immersed in hese reflections, Caroline sat gazing at the clouds, now transf :>rmed into royal robes of crimson and gold — the gorgeous train of the sun fi'.'ed the western horizon. She raised her pale hands to her head, lifting the mass of dark hair from her temples. The fevered blood madly cours- ing, pulsed in her ear like the stroke of a bell. She remembered a sunset like this on the shores of the Bay of Minas, where the thrush and oriole twittered tbeir even-song before seeking their nests, where the foliage of the trees was all ablaze with golden fire, and a shimmer- ing path of sunlight lay upon the still waters like a glorious bridge leading from themselves ta the bright beyond. [ 5 2 THE CI IEN D'OR. Or. tliat well-remembered night, her heart had yielded to Bigot's pleadings. She had leaned her head upon his bosom, and received the kiss and gave the pledge that bound her to him for ever. The sun kept sinking — the forests on the mountain tops burst into a bonfire of glory. Shadows went creeping up Ihe hill-sides, until the highest crest alone flamed out as a beacon of hope to her troubled sot]. Suddenly like a voice from the spirit world, the faim chime of the bells of Charlebourg floated on the evening breeze. It was the Angelus, calling men to prayer, and rest from their daily labor. Sweetly the soft reverberation floated through the forests, up the hill-sides, by plain and river, entering the open lattices of Chateau and cottage summoning rich and poor alike to their duty of prayer and praise. It reminded men of the redemption of the world by the divine miracle of the incarnation, announced by Gabriel the angel of God, to the ear of Mary blessed among women. The soft bells rang on. Men blessed them and ceased from their toils in field and forest. Mothers knelt by the cra- dle and uttered the sacred words with emotions such as only mothers feel. Children knelt by their mothers, and learned the story of God's pity in appearing upon earth as a little child, to save mankind from their sins. The dark Huron setting his snares in the forest, and the fishers on the shady stream stood still. The voyageur sweeping his canoe over the broad river, suspended his oar as the sol- emn sound reached him, and he repeated the angel's words and went on his way with renewed strength. The sweet bells came like a voice of pity and consola- tion to the ear of Caroline. She knelt down, and clasping her hands, repeated the prayer of millions, "Ave Maria! gratia plen?." She continued kneeling, offering up prayer * f ter prayer lor God's forgiveness, both for herself and for him who had brought her to this pass of sin and misery. " Mea culpa ) Mea maxima ulpa /" repealed she, bowing herself to the ground. " I am the chief of sinners ; who shall deliver me from this T)ody of sin and affliction-? " The sweet bells kept ringing. They woke reminiscences of voices of by-gone days. She heard her father's tones, AA r GELTQUE DES MELOISES. '53 .iot >n anger as he would speak now, but kind and loving as in h'T days of innocence. She heard her mother, long dead-— oh, how happily dead, for she could not die of sor- row now, over her deai child's fall. She heard the voices of the fair companions of her youth, who would think shame of her now ; and amidst them all, the tones of ihi persuasive tongue that wooed her maiden love. How changed it all seemed ; and yet, as the repetition of two ot three notes of a bar of music brings to recollection the whole melody to which it belongs, the few kind words of Bigot spoken that morning swept all before them in a drift of hope. Like a star struggling in the mist, the faint voice of an angel was heard afar off in the darkness. The ringing of the Angelus went on. Her heart was ut- terly melted. Her eyes, long parched, as a spent fountain in the burning desert, were suddenly filled with tears. She felt no longer the agony of the eyes that cannot weep. The blessed tears flowed quietly as the waters of Shiloh, bringing relief to her poor soul, famishing for one true word of affection. Long after the sweet bells ceased their chime, Caroline kept on praying for him, and long after the shades of night had fallen ov^er the Chateau of Beaumanoir. CHAPTER XVI. ANGELIQUE DES MELOISES. r~"OME and see me to-night, Le Gardeur." Angeiique ^- des Meloises drew the bridle sharply, as she halted her sphited horse in front of the officer of the guard at tne St. Louis Gate. " Come and see me to-night ; I shall be at home to no one but you. Will you come ? " Had Le Gardeur de Repentigny been ever so laggard and indifferent a lover, the touch of that pretty hand, and the glance from the dark eye that shot fire down into his very heart would have decided him to obey this seductive invi tation. '5* THE CHI EN D'Ok. He held her hand as he looked up, with a face radianl with joy. " I will surely come, Angelique. Eut tell me — " She interrupted him, laughingly: "No; I will tell you nothing till you come ! So good-by till then." He would fain have prolonged the interview ; but she rapriciously shook the reins, and with a silvery laugh, rode through the gate-way and into the city. In a few minutes ".he dismounted at her own home, and, giving her horse in charge of a groom, ran lightly up the broad steps into the house. The family mansion of the Des Meloises was a tall and rather pretentious edifice, overlooking the fashionable Rue St. Louis, where it still stands, old and melancholy, as if mourning over its departed splendors. Few eyes look up nowadays to its broad' facade. It was otherwise when the beautiful Angelique des Meloises sat of summer evenings on the balcony, surrounded by a bevy of Quebec's fairest daughters, who loved to haunt her windows, where they could see and be seen to the best advantage, exchanging salutations, smiles and repartees with the gay young officers and gallants who rode or walked along the lively thorough- fare. The house was, by a little artifice on the part of Angel ique, empty of visitors this evening. Even her brother, the Chevalier des Meloises, with whom she lived, a man of high life and extreme fashion, was to-night enjoying the more congenial society of the officers of the Regiment de Beam. At this moment, amid the clash of glasses and the bubbling of wine, the excited and voluble Gascons were discussing in one breath, the war, the council, the court, the ladies, and whatever gay topic was tossed from end to end of the crowded mess-table. " Mademoiselle's hair has got loose and looks like a Huron's," said her maid Lizette, as her nimble fingers re- irranged the rich dark-golden locks of Angelique, which reached to the floor as she sat upon her fauteuil. " No matter, Lizette ; do it up a la Pompadour, and make haste. My brain is in as great confusion as my hair. I need repose for an hour. Remember, Lizette, I am at home to no one to-night except the Chevalier dt Repentigny."- " The Chevalier called this afternoon, Mademoiselle, md was sorry he did no' find you at home," replied Lizette ANGELIQJE DES MELOISES. 155 who saw the eyelashes of her mistress quiver and droop while a flush deepened for an instant the roseate hue of her cheek. " I was in the country — that accounts for it ! There 1 My hair will do ! " said Angelique, giving a glance in the great Venetian mirror before her. Her freshly donned robe of blue silk edged with a foam of snowy laces and furbelows, set off her tall, lithe figure. Her arms, bare to the elbows, would have excited Juno's jealousy, or Hom- o's verse to greater efforts in praise of them. Her dainty feet, shapely, aspiring and full of character as her face, were carelessly thrust forward, and upon one of them lay a flossy spaniel, a privileged pet of his fair mistress. The Boudoir of Angelique was a nest of luxury and elegance. Its furnishings and adornings were of the newest Parisian style. A carpet woven in the pattern of a bed of flowers, covered the floor. Vases of Sevres and Porcelain filled with roses and jonquils, stood on marble tables. Grand Venetian mirrors reflected the fair form of their mistress, from every point of view — who contemplated her- self before and behind, with a feeling of perfect satisfac- tion and a sense of triumph over every rival. A harpsichord occupied one corner of the room, and an elaborate bookcase, well filled with splendidly bound volumes, another. Angelique had small taste for reading, yet had made some acquaintance with the literature of the day. Her natural quick parts, and good taste, enabled her to shine, even in literary conversation. Her bright eyes looked volumes. Her silvery laugh was wiser than the wisdom of a Pra- tieiise. Her witty repartees covered acres of deficiencies with so much grace and tact, that men were tempted to p/aise her knowledge no less than her beauty. She had a keen eye for artistic effects. She loved painting, although her taste was sensuous and voluptuous. Chat acter is shown in the choice of pictures as much as in that of books or of companions. There was a painting of Vanloo. A lot of full blooded horses in a field of clover. They had broken fence, and were luxuriating in the rich forbidden pasture. The triumph of Cleopatra over Antony, by Le Brun, was a great favor- ite with Ange'lique, because of a fancied, if not a real re- semblance between her own ' matures and those of the f tmouj I5 6 THE CHIEN D'OR. Queen of Egypt. Portraits of favorite friends, one ol them Le Gardeur de Repentigny, and a still more recent acquisition, that of the Intendant Bigot, adorned the walls, and among them, was one distinguished for its contrast to all the rest. The likeness in the garb of an Ursuline of her beautiful Aunt Marie des Meloises, who in a fit of caprice some years before, had suddenly forsaken the world of fashion, and retired to the convent. Her s veet soprano voice as it led the choir in the old Chapel, was the talk and the admiration of the city. Men stood in the street to listen to the angelic voice of the unseen nun, whose hidden beauty was said to be reflected in the match- less charms of Angelique, but her singing no one in New France could equal. The proud beauty threw back her thick golden tresses as she scanned her fair face and magnificent figure in the tall Venetian mirror. She drank the intoxicating cup of self- flattery to the bottom, as she compared herself, feature by feature with every beautiful woman she knew in New France. The longer she looked the more she felt the superiority of her own charms over them all. Even the portrait of her aunt, so like her in feature, so different in expression, was glanced at with something like triumph spiced with contempt. " She was handsome as I," cried Angdlique. " She was fit to be a queen, and made herself a nun! and all for the sake of a man ! I am fit to be a queen too, and the man who raises me nighest to a queen's estate, gets my hand ! My heart ? " she paused a few moments. " Pshaw ! " A slight quiver passed over her lips. " My heart must do penance for the fault of my hand ! " Petrified by vanity and saturated with ambition, Ange 7 - lique retained under the hard crust of selfishness, a soli- tary spark of womanly feeling. The handsome face and figure of Le Gardeur de Repentigny was her beau ideal of manly perfection. His admiration flattered her pride. His love, for she knew infallibly with a woman's instinct, that he loved her, touched her into a tenderness such as she felt for no man beside. It was the nearest approach to love her nature was capable of, and she used to listen to him with more than complacency, while she le:her hand linger in his warm c.asp, .vl ile the electric fire passed from one to another, and she looked into his eyes, and spoke to ANGE1.IQUE DES MELOISES. 15^ him in those sweet undertones that win men's hearts to woman's purposes. She believed she loved Le Gardeur, but there was no depth in the soil where a devoted passion could take firm root. Still she was a woman keenly alive to admiration. Jealous and exacting of her suitors, never willingly letting one loose from her bonds, and with warm passions and a cold heart, was eager for the semblance of love, although never feeling its divine reality. The idea of a union with Le Gardeur some day when she should tire of the whirl of fashion, had been a pleasant fancy of Angelique. She had no tear of losing her power over him. She held him by the very heart strings, and she knew it. She might procrastinate, play fast and loose, drive him to the very verge of madness by her coquetries, but she knew she could draw him back, like a bird held by 1 silken string. She could excite, if she could not feel the fire of a passionate love. In her heart she regarded men as beings created for her service, amusement and sport, to worship her beauty, and adorn it with gifts. She took everything as her due, giving nothing in return. Her love was an empty shell that never held a kernel of real womanly care for any man. Amid the sunshine of her fancied love for Le Gardeur, had come a day of eclipse for him, of fresh glory for her. The arrival of the new Intendant Bigot, changed the cur- rent of Angelique's ambition. His high rank, his fabulous wealth, his connections with the court, and his unmarried state, fanned into a flame the secret aspirations of the proud, ambitious girl. His wit and gallantry captivated \er fancy, and her vanity was full fed by being singled out as the special object of the Intendant's admiration. She already indulged in dreams which regarded the In- tendant himself as but a stepping stone to further great- ness. Her vivid fancy, conjured up scenes of royal splendor, where, introduced by the courtly Bigot, princes and nobles would follow in her train, and the smiles of majesty itself would distinguish her in the royal halls of Versailles. Angdlique felt she had power to accomplish all this, could she but open the way. The name of Bigot, she re- garded as the open sesame to all greatness. "If women rule France by a right more divine than that of kin^s, no 15 8 THE CHIEN D'OR. woman has abetter right than I ! " said she, gazing into the mirror before her. "The kingdom should be mine, and death to all other pretenders ! And what is needed after all?" thought she, cS she brushed her golden hair from her temples with a hand firm as it was beautiful. " It is but to pull down the heart of a man ! I have done that, man) a time for my pleasure. I will now do it for my profit, and for supremacy over my jealous and envious sex! " Angel ique was not one to quail when she entered the battle in pursuit of any object of ambition or fancy. " I never saw the man yet," said she, " whom I could not bring to my feet if I willed it ! The Chevalier Bigot would be no exception. That is, he would be no exception — the voice of Angelique fell into a low hard monotone as she finished the sentence — " were he free from the influence of that mysterious woman at Beaumanoir, who they say claims the title of wife by a token which even Bigot may not disregard ! Her pleading eyes may draw his compassion where they ought to excite his scorn. But men are fools to woman's faults and are often held by the very thing women never forgive. While she crouches there like a lioness in my path, the chances are I shall never be Chatelaine of Beaumanoir — never until she is gone ! " Angelique fell into a deep fit of musing and murmured to herself, " I shall never reach Bigot unless she be re- moved. But how to remove her ? " Aye, that was the riddle of the Sphinx! Angelique's life, as she had projected it, depended upon the answer to that question. She trembled with a new feeling ; a shiver ran through her veins, as if the cold breath of a spirit of evil had pass- ed over her. A miner boring down into the earth strikes a hidden stone that brings him to a dead stand. So An- gelique struck a hard, dark thought far down in the depths of her secret soul. She drew it to the light and gazed on it shocked and frightened. " I d : .d not mean that !" cried the startled girl, crossing herself. "Mire de Dieu! I did not conceive a wicked thought like that ! I will not! I cannot contemplate that !" She shut her eyes, pressing both hands over them, as if resolved not To look at the evil thought that like a spirit of darkness came when evoked, a ad would not depart when nidden. A VCEL/Q UE PES Ml-.LOISR S. l 59 The first suggestion of sin comes creep. ng in an houi of moral dnrkness, like a feeble mendicant who craves ad- mission to a corner of our fireside. We let him in, warm and nourish him. We talk and trifle with him from our •ugh seat, thinking no harm or danger. But woe to us if we let the secret assassin lodge under our roof ! He will r'se up stealthily at midnight, and strangle conscience in ner bed, murder the sleeping watchman of our uprightness, lulled to rest by the opiate of strong desire. Angdlique sat as in an enchanted circle round which fluttered shapes unknown to her before, and the face of Caroline de St. Castin went and came, now approaching, now receding like the phantom of a phantasmagoria. She fancied she heard a rustle as of wings, a sharp cry out of the darkness and all was still ! She sprang up trem- bling in every limb, and supporting herself against a table, seized a gilded carafe and poured out a full goblet of wine, which she drank. It revived her fainting spirit ; she drank another, and stood up herself again, laughing at her own weakness. She ran to the window and looked out into the night. The bright stars shone overhead, the lights in the street reassured her. The people passing by and the sound of voices brought back her familiar mood. She thought no more of the temptation from which she had not prayed to be delivered, just as the daring skater forgets the depths that underlie the thin ice over which he skims, careless as a bird in the sunshine. An hour more was struck by the loud clock of the Re- collets. The drums and bugles of the garrison sounded the signal for the closing of the gates of the city and the setting of the watch for the night. Presently the heavy tramp of the patrol was heard in the street. Sober bour- geois walked briskly home, while belated soldiers ran has- tily to get into their quarters ere the drums ceased beating the tattoo. The sharp gallop of a horse clattered on the stony pave- ment, and stopped suddenly at the door. A light step and the clink of a scabbard rang on the steps. A familiar rap followed. AngeLque, with the infallible intuition of a woman who recognizes the knock and footstep of her lover from ten thousand others, sprang up and met Le Gardeur de Repentigny as le entered the Boudoir. She received 160 the cjiien iro ?. him with warmth, even fondness, for she was proud of L« Gardeur and loved him in her secret heart beyond ail the rest of her admirers. "Welcome, Le Gardeur ! " exclaimed she, giving both hands in his — " I knew you would come, you are welcome a* the returned prodigal ! " " Dear Ange'lique ! " repeated he, after kissing her hands with fervor. "The prodigal was sure to return. He could not live longer on the dry husks of mere rec ollections." " So he rose and came to the house that is full and overflowing with welcome for him ! It is good of you to come, Le Gardeur ! why have you stayed so long away ? " Ang^lique in the joy of his presence, forgot, for the mo- ment", her meditated infidelity. A swift stroke of her hand swept aside her flowing skirts to clear a place for him upon the sofa, where he sat down beside her. "This is kind of you, Ange'lique," said he," I did not expect so much condescension after my petulance at the Governor's ball ; I was wicked that night, forgive me." "The fault was more mine, I doubt, Le Gardeur." Ange'lique recollected how she had tormented him on that occasion, by capricious slights, while bounteous of her smiles to others. " I was angry with you, because of your too great devotion to Cecile Tourangeau." This was not true, but Ange'lique had no scruple to lie to a lover. She knew well that it was only from his vexa- tion at her conduct, that Le Gardeur had pretended to re- new some long intermitted coquetries with the fair Cecile. " But why were you wicked at all that night ? " inquired she, with a look of sudden interest, as she caught a red cast in his eye, that spoke of much dissipation. " You have been ill, Le Gardeur ! " But she knew he had been drinking deep and long, to drown vexation, perhaps, over her conduct. " I have not been ill," replied he ; " shall I tell you the .rath, Ange'lique ? " " Always, and all of it ! The whtle truth and nothing but the truth ! " Her hand rested fondly on his ; no word of equivocation was possible under that mode of putting her lover to the question: "Tell me why you were wicked .thatnigbt!" ANGELIQUE DES VELOISES. 161 "Because I loved you to madness, Ange'lique; and I law myself thrust from the first place in your heart, and a new idol set ud in my stead. That is the truth ! " "That is not the truth! " exclaimed she, vehemently ; " and never will be the truth, if I know myself and you. But you don't know women, Le Gardeur," added she, with a smile ; "you don't know me, the one woman you ought to know, better than that ! — " It is easy to recover affection that is not lost. Angd- lique knew her power, and was not indisposed to excess fn the exercise of it. " Will you do something for me, Le Gardeur ? " asked she, tapping his fingers coquettishly with her fan. " Will I not ? Is there anything, in earth, heaven or hell, Angelique, I would not do for you, if I only could win what I covet more than life ? " "What is that?" Ange'lique knew full well, what he coveted more than life ; her own heart began to beat re- sponsively to the passion she had kindled in his. She nestled up closer to his side. " What is that, Le Gar- deur?" "Your love, Ange'lique ! I have no other hope in life if I miss that ! Give me your love and I will serve you with such loyalty as never man served woman with, since Adam and Eve were created." It was a rash saying, but Le Gardeur believed it, and Angelique too. Still she kept her aim before her. " If I give you my love," said she, pressing her hand through his thick locks, sending from her fingers a thousand electric fires, " will you really be my knight, my Chevalier preux, to wear my colors and fight my battles with all the world ? ' " I will by all that is sacred in man or woman ! Your will shall be my law, Angelique ; your pleasure my con- science ; you shall be to me all reason and motive for my acts, if you will but love me ! " " I do love you, Le Gardeur ! " replied she, impetu- ously. She felt the vital soul of this man breathing on her cheek. She k lew he spoke true; but she was incapa- ble of measuring the height and immensity of such a pas- sion. She accepted his love ; but she could no more con- tain the fulness of his overflowing affection, than the pitcher that is held to the Fountain can contain the stream that gushes forth perpetually. ii i6i THE CHIE N D'OR. Ange*lique was almost caniec away from her purpose, however. Had her heart asserted its r ghtful supremacy j that is, had nature fashioned it larger and warmer^ she had there and then thrown herself into his arms and blessed him by the consent he sought. She felt assured that here was the one man God had made for her and she was cruelly sacrificing him to a false idol of ambition and vanity. The word he pleaded for hovered on her tongue, ready like a bird to leap down into bis bosom ; but she resolutely beat it back into its iron cage. The struggle was the old one ; old as the race of man. In the losing battle between the false and true, love rarely comes out of that conflict unshorn of life or limb. Un- true to him, she was true to her selfish self. The thought of the Intendant and the glories of life opening to her, closed her heart, not to the pleadings of Le Gardeur, them she loved ; but to the granting of his prayer. The die was cast, but she still clasped hard his hand in hers, as if she could not let him go. " And will you do all you say, Le Gardeur, make my will your law ; my pleasure your conscience, and let me be to you all reason and motive ? Such devotion terrifies me, Le Gardeur ? " " Try me ! Ask of me the hardest thing • nay the wick- edest, that imagination can conceive or hands do ; and I would perform it for your sake." Le Gardeur was getting beside himself. The magic power of those dark flashing eyes of hers was melting all the fine gold of his nature to folly. " Fie ! " replied she, " I do not ask you to drink th» sea. A small thing would content me. My love is not so exacting as that, Le Gardeur." " Does your brother need my aid," asked he, " If he does, he shall have it to half my fortune, for your sake ! ' Le Gardeur was well aware that the prodigal brother oi Angelique was in a strait for money as was usual with him. He had late'y importuned Le Gardeur and obtained a large sum from him. She looked up with well affected indignation. " How can you think such a thing, Le Gardeur? my bi other wat not in my thought. It was the Intendant I Aiihed to ask you about, you know him better .han 1." This was not true. Angelique had studu.d die lnteud ant in mind, person and estat 1 , weighing hiiii scruple by ANGELIQUE DES M.ZLOISES. 163 scruple to the last attainable atom of information. Not that she had sounded the depths of Bigot's soul, there were regions of darkness in his character, which no eye but God's ever penetrated. Angelique felt, that with all her acuteness, she did not comprehend the Intendant. "You ask what I think of the Intendant? " asked ^ surprised somewhat at the question. " Yes, — an odd question is it not, Le Gardeur ? " ano siie smiled away any surprise he experienced. " Truly, I think him the most jovial gentleman that evei was in New France," was the reply, "frank and open- handed to his friends, laughing and dangerous to his foes. His wit is like his wine, Angelique ; one never tires of either ; and no lavishness exhausts it. In a word I like the Intendant, I like his wit, his wine, his friends ; some of them that is ! but above all, I like you, Angelique and will be more his friend than ever for your sake ; since I have learned his generosity towards the Chevalier de Meloises." The Intendant had recently bestowed a number 0/ valuable shares in the Grand Company upon the brothei of Angelique, making the fortune of that extravagant young nobleman. " I am glad you will be his friend, if only for my sake,' added she coquettishly. " But some great friends of yours like him not. Your sweet sister Amelie shrank like a sen- sitive plant at the mention of his name, and the Lady de Tilly put on her gravest look to-day when I spoke of the Chevalier Bigot. Le Gardeur gave Angdlique an equivocal look at men- tion of his sister. " My sister Ame'lie is an angel in the flesh," said he. "A man need be ittle less than divine to meet her full approval ; and my good aunt has heard some thing of the genial life of the Intendant. One may excuse a reproving shake of her noble head." " Colonel Philibert, too ! he shares in the sentiments 3f your aunt and sister, to say nothing of the standing hos- tility of his father, the bourgeois," continued Angelique, provoked at Le Gardeur's apparent want of adhesion. " Pierre Philibert ! He may not like the Intendant. He has reason for not doing so ; but I stake my life upon his honor. He will r.ever be unjust towards the Intendant or any man." Le Gardeur coul i not be drawn into a cen sure of his friend. ^4 THE CHizN D'CR. Angelique sheathed adroit.y the stiletto of inuendo she had drawn : " You say right," said she, craftily, " Pierre Philibert is a gentleman worthy of your regard. 1 confess I have seen no handsomer man in New France. I have been dreaming of one like him all my life ! What a pity I saw you first, Le Gardeur'" added she, pulling hioa by the hair. "I doubt you would throw me to the fishes were Pierre my rival, Angelique," replied he, merrily ; ' ' but I am in no danger ; Pierre' s affections are, I fancy, forestalled in a quarter where I need not be jealous of his success." " I shall at any rate not be jealous of your sister, Le Gardeur," said Angelique, raising her face to his, suffused with a blush ; " if I do not give you the love you ask for it is because you have it already ; but ask no more at pres- ent from me — this, at least, is yours," said she, kissing him twice, without prudery or hesitation. That kiss from those adored lips sealed his fate. It was the first ; better it had been the last. Better he had never been born than have drank the poison of her lips. " Now answer me my questions, Le Gardeur," added she, after a pause of soft blandishments. Le Gardeur felt her fingers playing with his hair, as, like Delilah, she cut off the seven locks of his strength. " There is a lady at Beaumanoir, tell me who and what she is, Le Gardeur," said she. He would not have hesitated to betray the gate of heaven at her prayer ; but, as it happened, Le Gardeur could not give her the special information she wanted as to the particu- lar relation in which that lady stood to the Intendant. Angel- ique, with wonderful coolness, talked away and laughed at the idea of the Intendant's gallantry. But she could get no confirmation of her suspicions from Le Gardeur. Her inquiry was for the present a failure, but she made Le Gardeur promise to learn what he could, and tell her the result of his inquiries. They sat long, conversing together, until the bell of the Recollets sounded the hour of midnight. Angelique looked in the face of Le Gardeur with a meaning smile, as she counted each stroke with her dainty finger on his cheek. When finished, she sprang up, and looked out of the lattice at the summer night. The stars were twir kl ng like living things. Charles* ANGF.LIQUE D ES MELOISES. 165 Wain lay inverted in the lorthern horizon ; Bootes had driven his sparkling herd down the slope of the western sky. A few thick tresses of her golden hair hung negli- gently over her bosom and shoulders. She placed her arm in Le Gardeur's, hanging heavily upon him, as she di- rected his eyes to the starry heavens. The selfish schemes she carried in her bosom dropped for a moment to the ground. Her feet seemed to trample them into the dust, while she half resolved to be to this man all that he be- lieved her to be, a true and devoted woman. " Read my destiny," Le Gardeur, said she, earnestly. "You are a Seminarist. They say the wise fathers of the seminary study deeply the science of the stars, and the students all become adepts in it." " Would that my starry heaven were more propitious, AngeTque," replied he, gaily kissing her eyes. " I care not for other skies than these! My fate and fortune are here." Her bosom heaved with mingled passions. The word of hope and the word of denial struggled on her lips for mastery. Her blood throbbed quicker than the beat of the golden pendule on the marble table ; but, like a bird, the good impulse again escaped her grasp. "Look, Le Gardeur," said she. Her delicate finger pointed at Perseus, who was ascending the eastern heav- ens, " there is my star. Mere Malheur — you know her — she once said to me that that was my natal star which would rule my life." Like all whose passions pilot them, Angdlique believed in destiny. Le Gardeur had sipped a few drops of the cup of astrol- ogy from the venerable Professor Vallier. Angelique's finger pointed to the star Algol — that strange, mutable star that changes from bright to dark with the hours, and which some believe changes men's hearts to stone. "Mere Malheur lied !" exclaimed he, placing his arm round her, as if to protect her from the baleful influence. " That cursed star never presided over your birth, Angel- ique ! That is the demon star Algol." Angelique shuddered, a id pressed still closer to him, ai i£ .n fear. " Mere Malheur would not tell me the meaning of that •tar, but bad^ me, if a saint, to watch and wait ; if a sin- 166 THE CHIEN HOR. ner, to watch and pray. What means Algol, Le Gardeui ? •he half falte ed. " Nothing for you, love. A fig for all the stars in the sky! Your bright eyes outshine them all in radiance, and overpower them in influence. All the music of the spheres is to me discord compared with the voice of Angelique des Meloises, whom alone I love ! " As he spoke, a strain of heavenly harmony arose from the chapel of the Convent of the Ursulines, where they were celebrating midnight service for the safety of New France. Amid the sweet voices that floated up on the notes of the pealing organ was clearly distinguished that of Mere St. Borgia, the aunt of Angelique, who led the choir of nuns. In trills and cadences of divine melody the voice of Mere St. Borgia rose higher and higher, like a spirit mounting the skies. The words were indistinct, but Angelique knew them by heart. She had visited her aunt in the convent, and had learned the new hymn composed by her for the solemn occasion. As they listened with quiet awe to the supplicating strain, Ange'lique repeated to Le Gardeur the words of the hymn as it was sung by the choir of nuns : Soutenez, grande Reine, Notre pauvre pays ! II est votre domaine Faites fleurir nos lis! L'Anglais sur nos frontieres. Porte ses etendards, Exaucez nos prieres Protegez nos remparts ! " The hymn ceased. Beth stood mute until the watch- man cried the hour in the s.lent s:reet. "God bless their holy prayers, and good night and God bless you, Ange'lique ! " said Le Gardeur, kissing her. He departed suddenly, leaving a gift in the hand of Lizette, who curtseyed low to him, with a smile of pleasure, as he passed out, while Ange'lique leaned out of the window listening to his horse's hoofs until the last tap of them died away on the stony pavement. She threw herself upon her couch and wept silently. The soft music had touched her feelings. Le Gardeurs love was like a load of gold, crushi lg her with its weight. She could neither carry it onward nor throw it off. She A A GL LIQ UE DES MEL 016 ES. ^7 fell at length into a slumber filled with troubled dreams. She was in a sandy wilderness carrying a pitcher of clear cold water, and though dying of thirst she would not drink, but perversely poured it upon the ground. She was fall- ing down into unfathomable abysses and pushed aside the only hand stretched out to save her. She was drowning in deep water and she saw Le Gardeur buffeting the waves to rescue her ; but she wrenched herself out of his grasp. She would not be saved and was lost ! Her couch was surrounded with indefinite shapes of embryo evil, She fell asleep at last. .When she awoke the sun was pouring in her windows. A fresh breeze shook the trees. The birds sang gaily in the garden. The street was alive and stirring with people. It was broad day. Angelique des Meloises was herself again. Her day dream of ambition resumed its power. Her night dream of love was over. Her fears vanished, her hopes were all alive and she began to prepare for a possible morning call from the Chevalier Bigot. CHAPTER XVII. SPLENDIDE MENDAX. Amid the ruins of the once magnificent palace of the Intendant, massive fragments of which still remain to attest its former greamess. there may still be traced the outline of the room where Bigot walked restlessly up and down the morning after the council of war. The disturbing letters he had received from France on both public and private affairs irritated him while it set his fertile brain at work to devise means at once to satisfy the Marquise de Pompadour and to have his own way still. The walls of his cabinet now bare, shattered, and roof- less ! with the blasts of six score winters, were hung witn portraits of ladies and statesmen of the day ; conspicuous among which was a fine picture from the pencil of Vanloo of the handsome, voluptuous Marquise de Pompadour. With a world of faults, that celebrated Dame who ruled f 68 THE CHI EN D'OR. France, in the name of Louis XV., made some ameids bjf her persistent good nature and her love for art. The painter, the architect, the sculptor, and above all the men of literature in France were objects of her sincere admira- tion, and her patronage of them was generous to profusion. The picture of her in the cabinet of the Intendant had been a work of gratitude by the great artist who painted it, and was presented by her to Bigot as a maik of her friendship and demi royal favor. The cabinet itself was furnished in a style of regal magnificence, which the Intendant carried into all details of his living. The Chevalier de Pean, the secretary and confidential friend of the Intendant was writing at a table. He looked up now and then with a curious glance as the figure of his chief moved to and fro with quick turns across the room. But neither of them spoke. Bigot would have been quite content with enriching himself and his friends, and turning out of doors the crowd of courtly sycophants who clamored for the plunder of the colony. He had sense to see that the course of policy in which he was embarked might eventually ruin New France. Nay, having its origin in the court might undermine the whole fabric of the monarchy. He consoled himself, how- ever, with the reflection that it could not be helped. He formed but one link in the great chain of corruption, and one link could not stand alone. It could only move by following those which went before, and dragging after it those that came behind. Without debating a useless point of morals, Bigot quietly resigned himself to the service of his masters or rather mistresses, after he had first served him- self. If the enormous plunder made out of the administra- tion of the war by the great monopoly he had estab- lished were suddenly to cease, Bigot felt that his genius »vould be put to a severe test. But he had no misgivings, because he had no scruples. He was not the man to go under in any storm. He would light upon his feet, as he expressed it, if the world turned upside down. Bigot suddenly stopped in his walk. His mind had been dwelling upon the great affairs of his Intendancy and the mad policy_of the court of Versailles. A new thought truck him. He turned and looked fixedly at his see •etary. SPLENDIDE MEND AX. \ 69 " De Pean ! " said he. " We have not a sure hold of the Chevalier de Repentigny ! That young fellow plays fast and loose with us. One who dines with me at the pal ace and sups with the Philiberts at the Chien d'Or, can- not be a safe partner in the Grand Company ! — " " I have small confidence in him either," replied De Pean. " Le Gardeur has too many loose ends of respec- tability hanging about him to make him a sure hold for our game." " Just so ! Cadet, Varin and the rest of you have only half haltered the young colt. His training so far is no credit to you ! The way that cool bully Colonel Philibert walked off with him out of Beaumanoir, was a sublime specimen of impudence. Ha ! Ha ! The recollection of it has salted my meat ever since ! It was admirably per- formed ! although, egad, I should have liked to run my sword through Philibert's ribs ! and not one of you all was man enough to do it for me. ! " " But your excellency gave no hint, you seemed full ot politeness towards Philibert," replied De Pean, with a tone that implied he would have done it, had Bigot given the hint. " Zounds ! as if I do not know it ! But it was provok- ing to be flouted, so politely too, by that whelp of the Golden Dog ! The influence of that Philibert is immense over young De Repentigny. They say he once pulled him out of the water, and is moreover a suitor of the sister, a charming girl, De Pean ! with no end of money, lands, and family power. She ought to be secured as well as her brother in the interests of the Grand Company. A good marriage with one of our party, would secure her, and none of you dare propose, by God ! " "It is useless to think of proposing to her," replied De Pean. " I know the proud minx. She is one of the angelic ones, who regard marriage as a thing of heaven's arrangement, She believes God never makes but one man far one woman, and it is her duty to marry him or nobody. It is whispered among the knowing girls who went to school with her at the Convent, (and the Convent girls do know everything, and something more ! ) that she always cherished a secret affection for this Philibert, and that she will marry him some clay." Marry Satan ! Such a girl as that to marry a cursed 170 THE CHI EN yOR. Philibert ! " Bigot was really irritated at the information, " I think " said he, " women are ever ready to sail in the ships of Tarshish, so long as the cargo is gold, silver, ivory, apes and peacocks ! It speaks ill for the boasted gallantry of the Grand Company if not one of them can win this girl. If we could gain her over, we should have no difficulty with the brother, and the point is to secure him.' " There is but one way I can see, your excellency.' De Pean did not appear to make his suggestion very cheer- fully, but he was anxious to please the Intendant. " How is that ? " the Intendant asked sharply. He had not the deepest sense of De Pean's wisdom. " We must call in woman to fight woman in the in- terests of the Company," replied the Secretary. " A good scheme if one could be got to fight and win ! But do you know any woman who can lay her fingers on Le Gardeur de Repentigny, and pull him out from among the Honnetes gens ? " " I do, your Excellency. I know .the very one can do it," replied De Pean confidently. " You do ! Why do you hesitate then ? Have you any arriere pense"e that keeps you from telling her name at once ? " asked the Intendant impatiently. " It is Mademoiselle des Meloises. She can do it, and no other woman in New France need try ! " replied De Pean. "Why she is a clipper certainly ! Bright eyes like hers rule the world of fools, (and of wise men too) " added Bigot in a parenthesis. " However, all the world is caught by that bird-lime. I confess I never made a fool of myself but a woman was at the bottom of it. But for one who has tripped me up I have taken sweet revenge on a thousand. If Le Gardeur be entangled in Nerea's hair, he is safe in our toils. Do you think Angelique is at home, De Pean ? " The Intendant looked up at the clock. It was the usual hour for morning calls in Quebec. " Doubtless she is at home at this hour, your Excel- lency," replied De Pean. " But she likes her bed as other pretty women do, and is practising for the petite levh like a Duchess. J don't suppose she is up ! " " I don't know that," replied Bigot. " A greater runa- gate in petticoats there Is not in the whole city 1 I never pass through the streets but I see her." STLENDIDE MEND AX. 7 " Aye, that is because she intends to me it your Excel- lei.cy ! " Bigot looked sharply at De Pean. A new thought flashed in his eyes. " What ! think you she makes a point of it, De Pean ? " " I think she would not go out of the way of youi Excel- lency." De Pean shuffled among his papers. But his slight agitation was noticed by the Intendant. " Hum ! is that your thought, De Pean ? Looks she in this quarter ? " Bigot meditated with his hand on his chin for a moment or two. " You think she is doubtless at home this morning ? " added he. " It was late when De Repentigny left her last night, and she would have long and pleasant dreams after that visit I warrant," replied the Secretary. " How do you know ? By St. Picot 1 You watch her closely, De Pean ! " " I do, your Excellency. I have reason," was the reply. De Pean did not say what his reason for watching Ange'lique was ; neither did Bigot ask. The Intendant cared not to pry into the personal matters of his friends. He had himself too much to conceal not to respect the secrets of his associates. "Well, De Pean ! I will wait on Mademoiselle des Meloises this morning. I will act on your suggestion, and trust I shall not find her unreasonable." " I hope your Excellency will not find her unrea- sonable, but I know you will, for if ever the devil of con- tradiction was in a woman he is in Angelique des Meloises !" replied De Pean savagely, as if he spoke from some experience of his own. " Well I will try to cast out that devil by the power of a still stronger one. Ring for my horse, De Pean ! " The Secretary obeyed and ordered the horse. " Mind, De Pean ! " continued the In.endant. " The Board of the Grand Company meet at three for business ! actual busi ness ! not a drop of wine upon the table, and all sober I not even Cadet shall come in if he shows one streak of the grape on his broad face. There is a storm of peace coming over us and it is necessary to shorten sail, take soundings and see where we are, or we may strike on a rock." The Intendant left the palace attended by a couple of equerries. He rode through the palace gate and into the city. Habitans and citizens bowed to him, out of habitual 172 TlYE CHIEN D'OR. respect for their superiors. Bigot returned their saluta tions with official brevity, but his dark face broke into sun shine as he passed ladies and citizens whom he knew as partners of the Grand Company, or partizans of his cwn faction. As he rode rapidly through the streets many an ill wish followed him, until he dismounted before the mansion of the Des Meloises. " As I live it is the royal Intendant himself," screamed Lizctte, as she ran out of breath to inform her mistress, who was sitting alone in the summer-house in the garden, be- hind the mansion, a pretty spot tastefully laid out with flower beds and statuary. A thick hedge of privet cut into fantastic shapes by some disciple of the school of Le Nostre, screened it from the slopes that ran up towards the green glacis of Cape Diamond. Ange'lique looked beautiful as Hebe the golden haired, as she sat in the arbor this morning. Her light morning dress of softest texture fell in graceful folds about her exquisite form. She held a book of Hours in her hand, but she had not once opened it since she sat down. Her dark eyes looked not soft, nor kindly, but bright, defiant, wanton and even wicked in their expression — like the eyes of an Arab steed, whipped, spurred, and brought to a desperate leap. It may clear the wall before it, or may dash itself dead against the stones. Such was the temper of Ange'lique this morning. Hard thoughts and many respecting the Lady of Beau- manoir — fond, almost savage regret at her meditated rejec- tion of De Repentigny — glittering images of the royal In- tendant, and of the splendors of Versailles, passed in rapid succession through her brain, forming a phantasmagoria in which she colored everything according to her own fancy. The words of her maid roused her in an instant. ' Admit the Intendant and show him into the garden, Lizette ! Now ! " said she, " I shall end my doubts about that lady ! I will test the Intendant's sincerity ! Cold, calculating woman slayer that he is ! It shames me to contrast his half heartedness with the perfect adoration of my handsome Le Gardeur de Repentigny ! The Intendant entered the garden. Ange'lique with that complete self control which distinguishes a woman of half a heart, or no heart at all, changed her whole demeanor SPLEXDIDE ML.VDAX. 173 jn a moment from gravity to gayety. Her eyes flashed out pleasure, and her dimples went and came, as she welcomed the Intendant to her arbor. " A friend is never so welcome as when he comes of h!« own accord ! " said she, presenting her hand to the Inten- dant, who took it with empressement. She made room for him on the seat beside her, dashing her skirts aside some what ostentatiously. Bigot looked at her admiringly. He thought he had never seen in painting, statuary, or living form, a more beautiful and fascinating woman. Angelique accepted his admiration as her due, feeling no thanks, but looking many. " The Chevalier Bigot does not lose his politeness, how- ever long he absents himself ! " said she, with a glance like a Parthian arrow well aimed to strike home. " I have been hunting at Beaumanoir," replied he, ex- tenuatingiy, " That must explain, not excuse, my apparent neglect," Bigot, felt that he had really been a loser by his absence. " Hunting ! indeed ! " Angelique affected a touch of surprise*, as if she had not known every tittle of gossip about the gay party and all their doings at the Chateau. " They say game is growing scarce near the city, Chevalier," con- tinued she nonchalantly, "and that a hunting party at Beaumanoir is but a pretty metonomy for a party of plea- sure, is that true ? " " Quite true, Mademoiselle," replied he, laughing. " The two things are perfectly compatible like a brace of lovers, all the better for being made one." " Very gallantly said ! " retorted she with a ripple of dangerous laughter. " I will carry the comparison no farther. Still I wager, Chevalier, that the game is not worth the hunt." " The play is always worth the candle, in my fancy," said he, with a glance of meaning ; " but there is really good game yet in Beaumanoir, as you will confess, Mademoiselle, if you will honor our party some day with your presence." " Come now, Chevalier," replied she, fixing him mis- chievously with her eyes, " "ell me what game do you find in the forest of Beaumanbir ? " " Oh ! rabbits, hares and deer, with now and theu a rough bear to try the mettle of our chasseurs." «74 THE C HI EN HOR. * What ! n ) foxes to cheat foolish crows ? no wolves to devour pretty Red Riding Hoods straying in the forest ? Come, Cheva.'ier, there is better game than all that," said she. "Oh, yes?" — he half surmised she was rallying him now — "plenty, hut we don't wind horns after them." " They say." continued she, " there is much fairei game than bird or beast in the forest of Beaumanoir, Che- valier." She went on recklessly, " Stray Limbs are picked up by Intendants sometimes, and carried tendeily to the Chateau 1 The Intendant comprehends a gentleman's de- voirs to our sex, I am sure." Bigot understood her now, and gave an angry start. Angelique did not shrink from the temper she had evoked. " Heavens ! how you look, Chevalier ! " said she, in a tone of half banter. " One would think I had accused you of murder, instead of saving a fair lady's life in the forest ; although woman-killing is no murder, I believe, by the laws of gallantry, as read by gentlemen — of fashion." Bigot rose up with a hasty gesture of impatience and sat down again. " After all," he thought, " what could this girl know about Caroline de St. Castin ? " He ans- wered her with an appearance of frankness, deeming that to be the best policy. " Yes, Mademoiselle, I one day found a poor suffering woman in the forest. I took her to the Chateau, where she now is. Many ladies beside her have been to Beau- manoir. Many more will yet come and go, until I end my bachelordom, and place one there in perpetuity, as ' mistress of my heart and home,' as the song says." Angelique could coquette in half meanings with any lady of honor at Court. " Well, Chevalier, it will be your fault not to find one fit to place there. They walk every street of the city. But they say this lost and found lady is a stranger? " " To me she is — not to you, perhaps, Mademoiselle I The fine ear of Angelique de ected the strain of hypo- crisy in his speech. It touched a sensitive nerve. She spoke boldly now. " Some say she is your wife, Chevalier Bigot ! " An- gelique gave vent to a feeling long pent up. She who trifled with men s hearts every day was indignant at the least symptom of repayment in kind. " They say she i* srLA.VDIDE MEND AX. i 7 j your wife, or if no your wife, she ought to be, Chevalier ; and will be, perhaps, one of these fine days, when you have wearied of the distressed damsels of the city." It had been better for Bigot, better for Angelique, that these two could have frankly understood each other. Bigot, in his sudden admiration of the beauty of this girl, forgot thai his object in coming to see her had really been to promote a marriage, in the interests of the Grand Company, between her and Le Gardeur. Her witcheries had been too potent for the man of pleasure. He was himself caught in the net he spread for another. The adroit bird catching of An- ge'lique was too much for him in the beginning. Bigot's tact and consummate heartlessness with women might be too much for her in the end. At the present moment he was fairly dazzled with her beauty, spirit, and seductiveness. " I am a simple quail," thought he, " to be caught by her piping. Par Dien! I am going to make a fool of my- self if I do not take care ! Such a woman as this I have not found between Paris and Naples. The man who gets her and knows how to use her might be Prime Minister of France. And to fancy it ! — I came here to pick this sweet chestnut out of the fire for Le Gardeur de Repentigny ! Francois Bigot ! as a man of gallantry and fashion I am ashamed of you ! " These were his thoughts, but in words he replied : " The lady of Beaumanoir is not my wife, perhaps never will be." Angelique's eager question fell on very unproductive ground. Ange'lique repeated the word superciliously. " Per- haps ! " • Perhaps ' in the mouth of a woman is consent half won ; in the mouth of a man I know it has a laxer meaning. Love has nothing to say to ' perhaps.' It is will or shall, and takes no ' perhaps,' though a thousand times repeated ! " " And you intend to marry this treasure trove of the forest — perhaps?" continued Ange'lique, tapping the ground with a daintier foot than the Irtendant had evei seen before. ' It depends much on you, Mademoiselle des Meloises," said he. " Had you been my treasure trove, there had been no ' perhaps ' about it." Bigot spoke bluntly, and to Ange'lique it sounded like sincerity. Her dreams were ao- complished. She trembled with the intensity of her graii 6cation, and felt no repugnance at his familiar address. 176 THE CHIEN LTOR. The Inter.dant held out his hand as he uttered the dulcet flattery, and she placed her hand in his, but it waa cold and passionless. Her heart did not send the bbod leaping into her finger ends as when they were held in the loving grasp of Le Gardeur. " Ange'lique ! " said he. It was the first time the Intend- ant had called her by her name. She started. It was the unlocking of his heart, she thought, and she looked at hira with a smile which she had practised with infallible effec* upon many a foolish admirer. " Ange'lique, I have seen no woman like you in New France or in Old. You are fit to adorn a Court, and I predict you will — if — if — " " If what, Chevalier ! " Her eyes fairly blazed with vanity and pleasure. " Cannot one adorn Courts, at least French Courts, without ifs ? " " You can, if you choose to do so," replied he, looking at her admiringly, for her whole countenance flashed intense pleasure at his remark. u If I choose to do so ? I do choose to do so ! But who is to show me the way to the Court, Chevalier ? It is a long and weary distance from New France." " I will show you the way, if you will permit me, An- ge'lique. Versailles is the only fitting theatre for the dis- play of beauty and spirit like yours." Ange'lique thoroughly believed this, and for a few moments was dazzled and overpowered by the thought of the golden doors of her ambition opened' by the hand of the Intendant. A train of images, full winged and as gorgeous as birds of paradise, flashed across her vision. La Pompadour was getting old, men said, and the King was already casting his eyes round the circle of more youthful beauties in his Court for a successor. " And what woman in the world," thought she, " could vie with Angelique des Meloises if she chose to enter the arena to supplant La Pompadour ? Nay, more ! If the prize of the King were her lot, she would outdo La Maintenon herself, and end by sitting on the throne." Angelique was not, however, a milkmaid to say yes before she was asked. She kr.ew her value, and had a natural distrust of the Intei.dant's gallant speeches. Moreover, the shadow of the lady of Beaumanoir would not wholly disappear " Why do you say such flattering SPLENDIDE MEND AX 17? things to me, Chevalier? " asked she. "One takes them tor earnest coming from the Royal Intendant. You should leave trifling to the idle young men of the city, who lave no business to employ them but gallanting us women." "Trifling! By St. Jeanne de Choisy, I was never more in earnest, Mademoiselle ! " exclaimed Bigol " I offer you the entire devotion of my heart." St. Jeanne de Choisy was the soubriquet in the petits apartemens foi La Pompadour. Ange'lique knew it very well, although Bigot thought she did not. " Fair words are like flowers, Chevalier ; " replied she, " sweet to smell and pretty to look at. But love feeds on ripe fruit. Will you prove your devotion to me if I put it to the test." " Most willingly, Angelique ! " Bigot thought she con- templated some idle freak that might try his gallantry, perhaps his purse. But she was in earnest, if he was not. " I ask then, the Chevalier Bigot, that before he speaks to me again of love or devotion, he shall remove that lady whoever she may be, from Beaumanoir ! " Angelique sat erect and looked at him with a long fixed look as she said this. " Remove that lady from Beaumanoir ! " exclaimed he in complete surprise, " Surely that poor shadow does not prevent your accepting my devotion, Ange'lique ? " " Yes, but it does, Chevalier ! I like bold men. Most women do, but I did not think that even the Intendant of New France was bold enough to make love to Angelique des Meloises while he kept a wife or mistress in stately seclusion at Beaumanoir ! " Bigot cursed the shrewishness and innate jealousy of the sex which would nc: content itself with just so much of a man's favor as he chose to bestow, but must ever want to rule single and alone. " Every woman is a despot," thought he, " and has no mercy upon pretenders to her throne." " That lady, " replied he, " is neither wife nor mistress, Mademoiselle. She sought the shelter of my roof with a claim upon the hospitality of Beaumanoir." " No doubt," Angelique's nostril quivered with a fine disdain "The hospitality of Beaumanoir is as bread and comprehensive as its maste's admiration for our sex 1 " said she. Bigot was not angry. He gave a loud laugh : " You 12 > 7 8 the zjrrEN D'or. women are merciless upon each other Mademi/iseL'e 1 said he. " Men are more merciless to women, when they beguijp us with insincere professions " replied she rising up in well affected indignation. " Not so. Mademoiselle ! " Bigot began to feel annoyed That lady is nothing to me," said he, without : ising as she had done. He kept his seat. " But she has been ! you have loved her at some time or other ! and she is now living on the scraps and leavings of formei affection. I am never deceived, Chevalier !" continU' ed she, glancing down at him, a wild light playing under her long eye-lashes, like the illumined under edge of a thunder- cloud. " But how in St. Picot's name did you arrive at all this knowledge, Mademoiselle ? " Bigot began to see that there was nothing for it but to comply with every caprice of this incomprehensible girl if he would carry his point. " Oh nothing is easier than for a woman to divine the truth in such matters, Chevalier " said she " It is a sixth sense given to our sex, to protect our weakness ; no man can make love to two women, but each of them knows instinctively to her fingertips that he is doing it." " Surely woman is a beautiful book written in golden fetters, but in a tongue as hard to understand as hieroglyphics jf Egvpt." Bigot was quite puzzled how to proceed with this incomprehensible girl. " Thanks for the comparison, Chevalier," replied she, with a laugh. " It would not do for men to scrutinize us too closely, yet one woman reads another easily as a horn book of Troyes, which they say is so easy that the children read It without learning." To boldly set at defiance a man who had boasted a long < areer of success was the way to rouse his pride, and determine him to overcome her resistance. Angelique was not mis- taken. Bigot saw her resolution and although it was with a menta" reservation to deceive her, he promised to banish Caroline from his chateau. " It was always my good fortune to be conquered in every passage of arms with your sex, Angelique," said he, at once radiant and submissive, " Sit down by me in token of amity.'- " She complied without hesitation and sat down by him. SPLEA'DIDE MEND AX- 179 gave him her hand again and replied with m arch smile while a thousand inimitable coquetries played about her eyes and lips " you speak now like an Atnant Magnifiquty Chevalier!" " Quelque fort qu 'on s'en defende, II y taut venir un jour I " It is a bargain henceforth and for ever ! Angelique ! " said he, "but I am a harder man than you imagine. I give nothing for nothing, and all for every thing. Will you consent to aid me and the Grand Company in a matter of importance \ " " Will I not ? What a question, Chevalier ! most willingly I will aid you in anything proper for a lady to do ! " added she, with a touch of irony. " I wish you to do it right or wrong, proper or improper, although there is no impropriety in it. Improper becomes proper if you do it, Mademoiselle ! " " Well, what is it, Chevalier ? this fearful test to prove my loyalty to the Grand Company ? — and which makes you such a matchless flatterer ? " " Just this, Angelique ! " replied he. " You have much influence with the Seigneur de Repentigny ? " Angdlique colored up to the eyes. " With Le Gardeur ! What of him ? I can take no part against the Seigneur de Repentigny? " said she hastily. " Against him ? For him ! We fear much that he is about to fall into the hands of the honnetes gens. You can prevent it if you will, Ange'lique ? " " I have an honest regard for the Seigneur de Repen- tigny!" said she, more in answer to her own feelings than to the Intendants remark ; her cheek flushed, her fingers twitched nervously at her fan, which she broke in her agta.ion and threw the pieces vehemently upon the ground. " I have done harm enough to Le Gardeur, I fear," con- tinued she. " I had better not interfere with him any more! Who knows what might result ? " she looked up almost war- ningly at the Intendant. " I am glad to find you so sincere a friend to Le Gar- deur," remarked Bigot craftily. " You will be glad to learn that our intention is to elevate him to a high and lucrative office in the administration of the Company, un- 180 THE CHIEN UOR. less the Horindes Gens are before us in gaining full posse* sion of him." " They shall not be before us if I can prevent it, Chevalier," replied she, warmly. She was indeed grateful for the implied compliment to Le Gardeur. " No one ^vill be better pleased at his good fortune than myself." " I thought so. It was partly my business to tell you of our intentions towards Le Gardeur." " Indeed ! " replied she, in a tone of pique. " I flattered myself your visit was all on my own account, Chevalier." "So it was." Bigot felt himself on rather soft ground. " Your brother, the Chevalier des Meloises has doubtless consulted you upon the plan of life he has sketched out for both of you ? " " My good brother sketches so many plans of life that I really am not certain I know the one you refer to." She guessed what was coming, and held her breath hard until she heard the reply. " Well, you of course know that his plan of life depends mainly upon an alliance between yourself and the Cheva- lier de Repentigny." She gave vent to her anger and disappointment. She rose up suddenly, and, grasping the Intendant's arm fiercely, turned him half round in her vehemence. " Chev- alier Bigot ! did you come here to propose for me on behalf of Le Gardeur de Repentigny ? " " Pardon me, Mademoiselle ; it is no proposal of mine, — on behalf of Le Gardeur. I sanctioned his promotion. Your brother, and the Grand Company generally, would prefer the alliance. I don't ! " He said this with a tone of meaning which Angilique was acute enough to see im- plied Bigot's unwillingness to her marrying any man — but himself — was the addendum she at once placed to his credit. " I regret I mentioned it," continued he, blandly, " if it be contrary to your wishes." "It is contrary to my wishes," replied she, relaxing hei clutch of his arm. " Le Gardeur de Repentigny can speak for himself. I will not allow even my brother to suggest it, still less will I discuss such a subject with the Chevaliejr Bigot." " I hope ycm wif pardon me Mademoiselle — I will not call you Angelique until you are pleased with me again. To be sure, I should never have forgiven you had you con- SPLENDID E MEND AX. r 8 3 formed to your bro.her's wishes. It was what I feared might happen, and I — I wished to try you ; that was all 1 " "It is dangerous trying me, Chevaliei," replied she, resuming her seat with some heat. " Don't try me again, or I shall take Le Gardeur out of pure spite" she said. Pure love was in her mind, but the other word came from her lips. " I will do all I can to rescue him from the Honnetes Gens, but not by marrying him, Chevalier — at present." They seemed to understand each other fully. " It is ovei with now," said Bigot. "I swear to you, Angelique, I did not mean to offend you. You cut deep." " Pshaw ! " retorted she, smiling. " Wounds by a lady are easily cured. They seldom leave a mark behind, a month after." " I don't know that. The slight repulse of a lady's finger — a touch that would not crush a gnat — will some- times kill a strong man like a sword-stroke. I have known such things to happen," said Bigot. " Well, happily, my touch has not hurt you, Chevalier. But, having vindicated myself, I feel I owe you repara- tion. You speak of rescuing Le Gardeur from the Hon- netes Gens. In what way can I aid you ? " " In many ways and all ways. Withdraw him from them. The great festival at the Philiberts, — when is it to be ? " " To-morrow ! See, they have honored me with a special invitation." She drew a note from her pocket. " This is very polite of Colonel Philibert, is it not ? " said she. Bigot glanced superciliously at the note. " Do you mean to go, Angelique ? " asked he. " No ; although had I no feelings but my own to con salt, I would certainly go." " Whose feelings do jou consult, Angelique," asked the Ictendant, " if not your own ? " " Oh, don't be flattered ! — the Grand Company's. I am loyal to the association without respect to persons." " So much better," said he. " By the way, it would not be amiss to keep Le Gardeur away from the festival. These Philiberts and th? heads of the Honnetes Gens have grea 1 . sway over him." " .Naturally ; they are all his own kith and kin. But I 1 82 THE CHI EN HOR. will draw h m away, if you desire it. I cannot prevent his going, but I can find means to prevent his staying ! " added she, with a smile of confidence in her power. "That will do, Angelique ; anything to make a breach between them." While there were abysses in Bigot's mind which Angel- ique could not fathom, as little did Bigot suspect that when Angelique seemed to flatter him by yielding to his suggestions she was following out a course she had already decided upon in her own mind, from the moment she had learned that Cecile Tourangeau was to be at the festival of Belmont, with unlimited opportunitie. of ex planation with Le Gardeur as to her treatment by An gelique. The Intendant, after some pleasant badinage, rose and took his departure, leaving Angelique agitated, puzzled, and dissatisfied, on the whole, with his visit. She reclined on the seat, resting her head on her hand, for a long time — in appearance, the idlest — in reality, the busiest brain of any girl in the city of Quebec. She felt she had much to do — a great sacrifice to make — but firmly resolved, at whatever cost, to go through with it ; for, after all, the sac- rifice was for herself, and not for others 1 CHAPTER XVIII. THE MEROVINGIAN PRINCESS. The interior of the Cathedral of St. Marie seemed like another world, in comparison with the noisy, bustling Market Place in front of it. The garish sunshine poured hot and oppressive in the square outside, but was shorn of its strength as it passed through the painted windows of the cathedral, filling the vast interior with a cool, dim, religious light, broken by tall shafts of columns, which swelled out into ornate capitals, supporting a~lofty ceiling, on which was painted the open heavens with saints and angels adoring the Lord. A lofty arch of cunning work, overlaid with gold, th< ThE MEROVJA GIA V P/tnVCESS. 183 masterpiece of Le Vasseur, spanned the chancel, like the rainbow round the throne. Lights were burning on the altar, incense went up in spirals to the roof ; and through the wavering cloud the saints and angels seemed to look down with living faces upon the crowd of worshippers who knelt upon the broad floor of the church. It was the hour of vespers. The voice of the priesf was answered by the deep peal of the organ and the chant ing of the choir. The vast edifice was filled with harmony, in the pauses of which the ear seemed to catch the sound of the river of life, as it flows out of the throne of God and the Lamb. The demeanor of the crowd of worshippers was quiet and reverential. A few gay groups, however, whose occupation was mainly to see and be seen, exchanged the idle gossip of the day with such of their friends as they met there. The fee of a prayer or two did not seem ex- cessive for the pleasure, and it was soon paid. The Perron outside was a favorite resort of the gallants of fashion at the hour of vespers, whose practice it was to salute the ladies of their acquaintance at the door by sprinkling their dainty fingers with holy water. Religion, combined with gallantry, is a form of devotion not quite obsolete at the present day, and at the same place. The church door was the recognized spot for meeting, gossip, business, love-making, and announcements ; old friends stopped to talk over the news, merchants their commercial prospects. It was at once the Bourse and the Royal Exchange of Quebec. There were promulgated by the brazen lungs of the city crier — royal proclamations of the Governor, edicts of the Intendant, orders of the Court of Justice, vendues public and private. In short, the life and stir of the city of Quebec seemed to flow about the door of St. Marie as the blood through the heart of a healthy man. A few old trees, relics of the primeval forest, had been left for shade and ornament :n the great market place. A little rivulet of clear water ran sparkling down the slope of the square, where every day the shadow of the cross }f the tall steeple lay over it like a benediction. A couple of young men, fashionably dressed, loitered this afternoon near the great door of the Convent in the aarrow street that runs into the great square of the market 184 THE CH1EN D'OR. They walked about with short impatient turns, occasionall) glancing at the clock of the Recollets, visible through the tall elms that bounded the garden of the Grey Friars. Pre- sently tne door of the Convent opened. Half a dozen gaily-attired young ladies, internes or pupils of the convent, sallied out. They had exchanged their conventual dress for their usual outside attire, and got leave to go out into the world, on some errand, real or pretended, for one houi and no more. They tripped lightly down the broad steps, and were instantly joined by the young men who had been waiting for them. After a hasty, merry hand-shaking, the whole party proceeded in great glee towards the Market Place, where the shops of the mercers and confectioners offered the attractions they sought. They went on purchasing bon-bons and ribbons from one shop to another, until they reached the Cathedral, when a common impulse seized them to see who was there. They flew up the steps and disappeared in the church. In the midst of their devotions, as they knelt upon the floor, the sharp eyes of the young ladies were caught by gesticulations of the well-gloved hand of the Chevalier des Meloises, as he saluted them across the aisle. The hurried recitation of an Ave or two had quite satis- fied the devotion of the Chevalier, and he looked round the church with an air of condescension, criticizing the music and peering into the faces of such of the ladies as looked up, and many did so, to return his scrutiny. The young ladies encountered him in the aisle as they left the church before the service was finished. It had long since been finished for him, and was finished for the young ladies also, when they had satisfied their curiosity to see who was there and who with whom. " We cannot pray for you any longer, Chevalier des Meloises ! " said one of the gayest of the group ; " the Lady Superior has economically granted us but one hour in the city to make our purchases and attend vespers. Out of ihat hour we can only steal forty minutes for a promen- ade through the city, so good bye, if you prefer the church to our company, or come with us and you shall escort twc of us You see we have only a couple of gentlemen to si* ladies." & fi I much prefer your company, Mademoiselle de Broua THE MEROVUVGrA:/ l'KINCESS r g s gue 1 " replied he gallantly, forgetting the important meet ing of the managers of the Grand Company at the Palace. The business, however, was being cleverly transacted with out his help. Louise de Brouague had no great esteem for the Chev- alier des Meloises, but, as she remarked to a compar ion, he made rather a neat walking stick, if a young lady cc d folly than I with all my tact and cleverness, which 1 suspect are going to make a greater fool of me than ever he is 1 " She leaned back in her chair in a deep thinking mood. "It is growing dark," murmured she. " Le Gardeur will assuredly be here soon, in spite of all the attractions of Belmont. How to deal with him when he comes is more than I know_ Hi will renew his suit, I am sure." For a moment the heart of Angelique softened in het bosom. " Accept him I must not ! " said she ; " affront CROSS Q UE& TIONLVG. 2 fl I him I will not ! cease to love him is out of my power, as much as is my ability to love the Intenclant, whom I cor- dially detest, and shah marry all the same ! " She pressed her hands over her eyes, and sat silent for a few minutes. :< But I am not' sure of it ! That woman remains still a* Beaumanoir ! Will my scheming to remove her be all in \ ain or no ? " AngtMique recollected with a shudder a thought that had leaped in her bosom, like a young Satan, engendered of evil desires. " I dare hardly look in '.he honest eyes of Le Gardeur after nursing such a monstrous fancy as that," said she; "but my fate is fixed all the same. Le Gardeur will vainly try to undo this knot in my life, but he must leave me to my own devices." To what devices she left him, was a thought that sprang not up in her purely selfish nature. In her perplexity Angelique tied knot upon knot hard as pebbles in her handkerchief. Those knots of her destiny, as she regarded them, she left untied, and they remain untied to this day — a memento of her character and of those knots in her life which posterity has puzzled itself over to no purpose to explain. CHAPTER XX. CROSS QUESTIONING. Angelique, weary of her own reflections upon the un- certainties of fortune, summoned Lizette to arrange her toilette afresh, and amuse or rather distract her thoughts by retailing the latest gossip of the Quartier. That was Lizette's world — a stirring little world, too, in those days, an epitome of France itself, a Paris in miniature, where evf :y province from Beam to Artois had its representa- tives, and the little pot of colonial life was boiling with the rivalries, friendships, hates, fears, and ambitions of the metropolis of the kingdom, sharpened and intensified by the narrowness of the arena in which they met. Lizette was full to-day of the gossip that flew from \oqx to door and f a m gallery to gallery of the quaint old 2C2 THE CHIEi: D'O't. houses, as caught first by the maids. 1 he story of the doings at Belmont was volubly retailed to the itching ears of their mistresses, and the account of the carriages and horsemen, horsewomen, dresses, and corteges of the fashionable people going out to honor the fete of Pierre Philibert seemed interminable as the list of Homer's heroes. " And who may they all be, Lizette ? " asked Angelique, not for information, but to hear her maid talk, for she knew well who had been invited, who were going, and who had declined to £,o to Belmont. Nothing happened in Quebec which did not reach Angelique's ears, and the festival at Belmont had been the talk of the city for many day^. " O, they are Bourgeoisie for the most part, my lady, people who smell of furs, and fish, and turpentine, and Lower Town ! You see the gentlemen any day, down in the Basse Ville, jingling their money in their pockets, their coats dusted w: h iiour, and their knees greasy with oil, while their wives and daughters, in feathers and furbelows parade through Upper Town, with all the assurance of their betters ! " Lizette was a cunning Abigail, and drew her portrait to suit the humor of her mistress, whom she had heard ridiculing the festival of the Hcmnetes Gens, as she called it. " But you know who they were, Lizette ? That tongue of yours can, if it will, repeat every name, dress and equip- ment, that has gone out to Belmont to-day." " Yes, my lady. What I did not see myself, I learn- ed from Manon Nytouche, Madame Racine's maid, who accompanied her mistress down to the house of Madame de Grandmaison, where the ladies all sat in the balcony, quizzing the parties as they rode past on their way to Bel- mont." Angelique threw herself back languidly in her chair. " Go on then, I don't care how you learned their names, but tell me who rode past? " " Oh, there were all the Brassards of course. The girls dressed like Duchesses, quite forgetting the dirty old maga- zine, in Sous Le Fort, where their finery comes from ! And the Gravels from the Cut de Sac, whose large feet remind one of their grandfather he old Coureur du Bois, who ao quired them tramping in the woods." "That was well said, Lizette!" observed Angelique CROSS QUESTIOh ING. 203 ' I wish the Demoiselles Gravel co - i hear you ! who else were there ? " " Oh, the Huots of course, whose stiff necks and high shoulders came from their grandmother the squaw ! The Sieur Huot took her out of the wigwam, with her trous- seau on her back, and a strap round her forehead, and made a city dame of her ! Marry come up ! the Demoi- selles Huot wear furs in another fashion now ! Then there were the Tourangeaus, who think themselves rich enough to marry into the noblesse ! and Cecile of course, with her hair frizzed over her forehead to hide " — Lizette sud denly remembering she was on dangerous ground, stopped short. " To hide what?" ejaculated Angelique, rousing her- self almost savagely, for she knew well why her maid hesitated. " A mark like a red cross upon her forehead, my lady ! " Lizette trembled a little, for she was never sure what direction the lightning would strike, when her mis- tress was angry. " Ha, Ha ! " laughed Angelique. " She did not get that cross in baptism, I'll be bound ! The world has a long tongue, and the tip of it is in your mouth, Lizette ! " con- tinued she, leaning back in her chair quietly, to her maid's surprise. "Tell me now, what do people say of Cecile?" " They say, my lady, that she would give her little finger any day, for a smile from the Chevalier de Repen- tigny ! " Madame Racine says, " It is only to see him tha' she has gone to Belmont to-day." : Lizette, I will strike you if you pull my hair so ! " ex- claimed Angelique, pushing her maid away with her hand, which was as prompt to deal a blow as to lavish gifts upon her dependants. " Pardon ! my lady," replied Lizette, shrewd enough to perceive the cause of her mistress' anger, and also how .0 allay it. " Cecile Tourangeau may look her eves out at the Chevalier de Repentigny, but I know he has no love for any woman but one, who shall be nameless." " No, she shall not be nameless to me, Lizette ! so tell it please," Angelique fixed ner maid with a look she durst not disobey. " It was only the other nigh' , my lady, when the Cheva- lier de Repentigny, remained so late, that he said on JQ4 THE CHI EN D'OR. leaving the house, ' Heaven has no door like this ! and no mansion I would inhabit without Angelique ! ' I would go on my knees from here to Rome, for a man who loved me as Le Gardeur does you, my lady ! " exclaimed Lizette, with a burst of enthusiasm that charmed her mistress. Lizette knew she was saying the most agreeable thing In the world to her, a thrill of pain mingled with pleasure, and a taste of sweet and bitter, came upon the tongue of Angelique. She swallowed the sweet and threw off the bitter, as she said with an air of gayety. " When a man goes on his knees for a woman it is all over with her ! is it not Lizette ? " " It would be all over with me, my lady," replied the maid frankly. " But men you know are false so often. A woman never has them safe and sure, until they are put to bed by the sexton with a coverlet of stone on top of them ! " " You are getting positively clever, Lizette ! " exclaimed Angelique, clapping her hands. " I will give you a new gown for that remark of yours ! What said the Chevalier de Repentigny further, did you hear ? " " That was all I heard, my lady, but it is plain as the spire of Charlebourg, as they say, that he does not care a pin for Cecile Tourangeau, and for her to try to make an impression upon him is just as vain, Madame Racine says, as to put your finger into the water and look for the hole it has made ! " " Madame Racine's similies smack of the water side, and she talks like the wife of a stevedore ! " Angelique, while indulging herself in every freedom of speech, was merciless in her criticism of coarseness in others. " But go on with your beads, Lizette, who besides all those ele- gant Bourgeois, have gone to Belmont ? " " O there were the Massots of course ! the young ladies in blue and white, in imitation of your last new costume, ncy lady? ' " That shows their good taste," replied Angelique, " and a deference to their betters, not always found in Lowc# Town, where we usually see more airs than graces ! Who besides the Massots have gone ? " " Oh, the whole tribe of the Cureux ! Trust any thing going on in Quebec, where they will not thrust their long noses ! " " Oh 1 the Curev x, ndeed ! " replied Angdlique, laughing CKOSS QUESTrOKlXG. 105 till she s 100k, "I always hugh when I see their\ox\° nosei come into a parlor." " Yes, my Lady, every one does ! even servants ! thej say they got them by smelling stock fish which they send to France by tho ship load. Madame Cureux is always boasting (hat the Pope himself eats their stock fish in Lent." "Well their noses are their own, and nobody envies them the possession ! But all their stock fish cannot cure their ugliness ! " Angdlique knew the Cureux were very- rich, and it pleased her to find a good offset for that ad- vantage. "Nor all their money marry the demoiselles Cureux to the noblesse ! " remarked Lizette, with a touch of spite. She too did not like the Cureux for some prejudice of the servants' hall — inscrutable here. " There you are wrong, Lizette ! Money will marry any one to any body ! It will marry me — enough of it ! " An- ge'lique twitched her shoulder and gave a short, bitter laugh. " Yes, most people say so, my Lady, and I suppose it is true ! But for my part, having no money, I like a bit of iove to season the family potage ! I would not marry Louis Le Page with his five hundred livres in his box, if I would not take him barefoot just as Gcd made him." " Pshaw ! you talk like a fool ! " Ang&ique moved restlessly in her chair, as if tormented with a thorn. " Peo- ple of your condition are happy enough with love ; you have nothing else to marry for." " No, and for that reason Louis and I will marry," re- plied Lizette, seriously. " God made men wise, they saj, and we women teach them to be fools." " You are clever Lizette and worthy to be my maid," cried Angelique, admiringly, " but I want to hear the rest of your gossip about Belmont. You have only mentioned the Bourgeoisie, but I know many people of condition have gone out also." " I thought my Lady would rather have me mentior the Bourgeoisie," repliaJ Lizette, naively. She knew that sprinkling a little common earth upon the guests, would not displease the humor of her mistress. " True, but I have heard enough about them and after all, the movements of the Bourgeoisie are of no more im- portance than the flight of pigeons. The Honneies gens are a0 6 THE CHIEN COR. not all Bourgeoisie — move's he wonder! go on, Lizette with the noblesse.' " Yes, my Lad} ! Madame Je Grandmaison held up both hands for an hour, astonished at the equipages rolling on one after another to Belmont, to visit a mere merchant, a ♦xader, as she called the Bourgeois Philibert." " Madame de Grandmaison forgets the old rope maker of St. Malo, who spun her own family line ! " replied An- ge'lique, tartly ; she hated the Grandmaisons. " The Bour- geois Philibert is himself as well born and as proud too as the Lord de Coucy." " And his son, the Colonel, is as proud as his father, and can look as cross too when he is displeased," remarked Lizette, veering round readily to the shift of wind in her mistress' humor. " He is the handsomest gallant in the city, but one," remarked Angelique. " Yes, my Lady," replied the facile maid. " The Chev alier de Repentigny thinks him perfection, and he thinks Mademoiselle de Repentigny more than perfection ; at least that was Madame Racir.e's opinion." " Madame Racine's tongue would be all the better for shortening, Lizette, and yours too, if you quote her sayings •so m ich." " Yes, my Lady," replied the ever acquiescent maid, " and every one thought the same when she and Madame de Grandmaison joined in a cry of indignation as the Gov- ernor rode past, with that strange gentleman from Sweden, who puts flowers in a book instead of into his button hole, and pins moths and butterflies to a board. They say he is a Huguenot and would like to serve Christians in the same manner, only most people think he is mad. But he is really very nice when you speak to him ! and the Gov- ernor likes him immensely. All the maids of the quartier say their mistresses agree on that." " Well, never mind the strange gentleman ! who be- sides were there ? " asked Ange'lique. " O loads and loads of the most fashionable people ' such as the Chavignys, th ; Lemoines, the Lanaudieres, Du- perons and De Lerys, all sitting up in their carriages and looking as iLthe Colony belonged to them." " A good deal of it does !" remarked Ange'lique w'th a touch of Madame de Gnndmaison's irritability. CROSS QUESTIONING. 20j " But the D' Aillebousisand the Vaudreuils's, they did not go ? " " Only the Chevalier Rigauil, my Lady, who, tluy say always roasts a Bostonnaiswhen his soldiers are very hungry 1 but I don't believe it." " Pshaw ! but tell me have the Beauharnois gone with the list?" " Yes, my Lady ! Mademoiselle was dressed like an angel in white, and such plumes ! even Madame Couillard said she looked handsomer than her brother Claude." " Oh, Hortense ! every one is bursting with praises of Hortense ! " exclaimed Ange'lique with decided pique, fanning herself impatiently. " It is because she makes her- self so friendly ; forward I call it, and she thinks herself so witty ! or, at least causes the gentleman to think so. The heir of Belmont would hardly pay her for opening her black eyes so wide ! " Ange'lique was bitter and unjust. She was, in truth, jealous of the beauty and grace of Hortense de Beauharnois, who approached too near her own absolute kingdom, not to be looked upon otherwise than as a dangerous rival. " Is your list ended ? " Ange'lique got very impatient. " Of course, all the Tillys, De Repentignys, St. Lues, and their tribes from North to South, would not be absent on any such occasion as a gathering of the Honnetes gens in honor of the Philiberts ! " " No my Lady, and they are all there, as Madame de Grandmaison remarked. The city has gone mad over Belmont, and every body has gone ! " Lizette began count- ing on her fingers, " besides those I named there were the De Beaujeus, the Contrecceurs, the De Villiers the — " " For God's sake, stop ! " burst out Ange'lique " or go back to the Bourgeoisie, '.he rabble and the slops of Lower town ! " This was a coarse speech for Angelique, but she liked sometimes to leap over the bars of politeness, and riddle society of its cinders, she said. Her supernal beauty was earthmade, and she could on occasion talk coarsely, talk argot or even smoke while comparing the points of men and horses in the penetralia of her boudoir, in the free and easy companionship of friends of her own sex. Lizette took the hint and gave a satirical description of a rich old merchant and his fanv'ly, the Sieur Keratry, an 2±& THE CHI EN D'OR honest Bas Breton. "They sav," continued Lizette 'thai the Sieur Keratry first learned ^he use cf a pocket hand kerchief after his arrival in an Emigrant ship, and forgets to use it to this cay ! " "Why that 3 true!" laughed Ang^lique, restored to good humor, by the mention of the old trader of the Sault au Matclot. " The Bas Bretons never use anyth.ng but then i'eeves and fingers ! and you always recognize: the honest folk of Finis Terre by that unmistakable trait of Breton polish ! the Sieur Keratry is true to his province and can never forget the primitive fashion, I hope he will practise it well at Belmont! Bah! But I wont hear any more Lizette, I dont care who has gone! I know one who won't stay ! Mark you ! " con- tinued she. "When the Chevalier de Repentigny calls this evening show him up at once ? I am resolved he shall not remain at Belmont whoever else does." She held up a warning finger to her maid, " Remember now you may go Lizette, I want to be alone." " Yes, my Lady ! " Lizette would fain have continued her gossip, but she dared not. There was a flash now and then in Angelique's eyes that boded fire not far off. Lizette withdrew, somewhat perplexed about her mistress's real thoughts of persons and things, and remarked to her con- fidante the housekeeper, that her lady was "in a tantrum over something or other and some body would surely suffer before to-morrow ! " CHAPTER XXL BELMONT. A short drive from the gate of St. John, stood the old mansion of Belmont, he country seat of the Bourgeois Philibert. A stately >ark, die remains of the primeval forest of oak, maple tnd pine ; trees of gigantic growth and ample shade, sun >unded the high roofed, many gabled house that stood on he heights of St. Foye overlooking