THE HEAVENS FALL
When Germain returned from the shooting party, he was sent for from
Collinot's office, and upon his entering, the door was closed.
As the closing of Collinot's door was an unusual proceeding, and was
known among the regiment to denote something very particular,
speculation and excitement immediately became rife, and the news that
Lecour was closeted with Collinot spread like wildfire.
Germain, rosy and active, saluted his superior gallantly. The latter
returned the action with a non-committal countenance.
"A gentleman calling himself the Marquis de Lotbinière has just been
here. Do you know him?"
Germain braced himself.
"I have heard of him in Canada," he said, "but his Marquisate is not
believed in there."
"You Canadians have strange tales of each other. He is apparently a very
respectable man, and supported his allegations about you--which are in
substance the same as those made by Monsieur de Léry--by a certificate
from the Genealogist that the family name of Répentigny is LeGardeur,
not Lecour."
"Did he admit that he is an uncle of my adversary, de Léry, and has the
natural malice against me of a relative of my antagonist?"
"I have made due allowance for his bias, Monsieur Lecour."
Germain's heart sank at the form of the name in which he was addressed.
"The difficulty," proceeded the Adjutant, "is in your papers; for,
however the truth may stand as to your position, your proofs to the
regiment were made under the title of Répentigny, a designation which
you have abandoned. My position, as representing and protecting the
regiment, therefore, is that I hold no proper proofs that you possess
the generations of descent which you are aware are necessary. I now have
the honour of calling upon you to produce such proofs."
"Very well, sir," answered Germain, and leaving the room, strode to his
quarters and returned with the de Lincy copies.
Collinot scanned them carefully. Germain, waiting silently, noticed that
on the whole he was not displeased.
"Only the past two generations are lacking," he pronounced, "your
certificate of baptism and those of your father and mother, together
with their marriage contract. Why are they not supplied?"
"I have no doubt they can be. With your permission, I shall send at once
to Canada for them."
But Collinot was silent again, looking over the documents.
The story de Lotbinière was likely to have told crossed Germain's mind,
and he went on--
"I have no doubt the enemies of my family mentioned every
disadvantageous fact. If it is that my father is in trade, let me say
yes--as the greatest merchant in his country and the equal of any one
there--and let me add that the decrees of our King always permitted
_noblesse_ in Canada to engage in commerce, from the circumstances of
the country, just as those of Brittany are permitted to enter the
commerce of the seas. That is therefore no derogation."
"It is not that which troubles me, lieutenant," Collinot answered, "but
the certificates in themselves are incomplete in lacking the links I
mention. Without them," he said, rising to his feet and looking at
Lecour calmly, "you can no longer serve in the Prince's company."
The blow fell hard.
Germain sank down in a chair and turned his face aside.
"My God, she is lost to me," he murmured. Collinot caught the words. The
natural kindness of the man overcame the formality of the
disciplinarian, and he went and placed a hand upon Lecour's shoulder.
"You know, sir," he said kindly, "that one is not master of his birth,
but of his conduct. Yours has been blameless. I sympathise with you
greatly."
"Anything but this! Ruined, ruined--what ruin and disgrace!"
"Not so, my boy; there is no disgrace in being less wellborn--it is only
that one possesses a few privileges the less."
"How am I to leave, sir? Shall I not have permission to seek my proofs
in Canada and return?"
"If you can obtain the proofs you shall have your place again."
"Grant me but a few days to arrange my affairs."
"In your own interest let me advise you not to make it more than
twenty-four hours."
"Twenty-four hours?"
"Twenty-four."
"Twenty-four hours!" repeated Lecour, dazed. "Can I have the privilege,
then, at least, of wearing the uniform until I leave France?"
"That cannot be."
"May I ask but a certificate of having served, with honour in the
company?" he gasped.
"It is due solely to those whose original right to have entered the
corps is without dispute."
"Alas! all who have known me in my former state will ask why I have
ceased to retain it." Pallor and despair seemed to have transformed him.
"Were I not a soldier," sighed Collinot, making a great effort to
repress his own feelings, "I should under these painful circumstances
most gladly write you a certificate. Remember me ever as one who would
have liked to be your friend."
"Oh, sir, you have been too kind to me," Lecour cried, in a voice of
agony, his eyes running tears; and grasping the hand of the Adjutant, he
wrung it affectionately, and could speak no further. Sobering himself
and turning quickly, he made his exit. Many curious eyes furtively
followed him and guessed the secret as he strode along to his apartment.
Grancey came to him in a few moments, furious.
"The whole company holds there was never such a conspiracy--what can we
do?"
"Nothing--nothing--nothing."