IN THE PALACE OF THE INTENDANT
The huge palace of the Intendant, between the bluff and the river, was
ablaze with lights, and already crowded with guests at our arrival. I
had seen nothing of Chevet since the morning, nor did he appear now;
but Monsieur Cassion was prompt enough, and congratulated me on my
appearance with bows, and words of praise which made me flush with
embarrassment. Yet I knew myself that I looked well in the new gown,
simple enough to be sure, yet prettily draped, for Sister Celeste had
helped me, and 'twas whispered she had seen fine things in Europe
before she donned the sober habit of a nun. She loved yet to dress
another, and her swift touches to my hair had worked a miracle. I read
admiration in Cassion's eyes, as I came forward from the shadows to
greet him, and was not unhappy to know he recognized my beauty, and
was moved by it. Yet it was not of him I thought, but Rene de
Artigny.
There was a chair without, and bearers, while two soldiers of the
Regiment of Picardy, held torches to light the way, and open passage.
Cassion walked beside me, his tongue never still, yet I was too
greatly interested in the scene to care what he was saying, although I
knew it to be mostly compliment. It was a steep descent, the stones of
the roadway wet and glistening from a recent shower, and the ceaseless
stream of people, mostly denizens of Quebec, peered at us curiously as
we made slow progress. Great bonfires glowed from every high point of
the cliff, their red glare supplementing our torches, and bringing out
passing faces in odd distinctness.
A spirit of carnival seemed to possess the crowd, and more than once
bits of green, and handfuls of sweets were tossed into my lap; while
laughter, and gay badinage greeted us from every side. Cassion took
this rather grimly, and gave stern word to the soldier escort, but I
found it all diverting enough, and had hard work to retain my dignity,
and not join in the merriment. It was darker at the foot of the hill,
yet the crowd did not diminish, although they stood in ankle deep mud,
and seemed less vivacious. Now and then I heard some voice name
Cassion as we passed, recognizing his face in the torch glow, but
there was no sign that he was popular. Once a man called out something
which caused him to stop, hand on sword, but he fronted so many faces
that he lost heart, and continued, laughing off the affront. Then we
came to the guard lines, and were beyond reach of the mob.
An officer met us, pointing out the way, and, after he had assisted us
to descend from the chair, we advanced slowly over a carpet of clean
straw toward the gaily lighted entrance. Soldiers lined the walls on
either side, and overhead blazed a beacon suspended on a chain. It was
a scene rather grotesque and weird in the red glow, and I took
Cassion's arm gladly, feeling just a little frightened by the strange
surroundings.
"Where is my Uncle Chevet?" I asked, more as a relief, than because I
cared, although I was glad of his absence because of De Artigny.
"In faith, I know not," he answered lightly. "I won him a card, but he
was scarce gracious about it. In some wine shop likely with others of
his kind."
There were servants at the door, and an officer, who scanned the cards
of those in advance of us, yet passed Cassion, with a glance at his
face, and word of recognition. I observed him turn and stare after me,
for our eyes met, but, almost before I knew what had occurred, I found
myself in a side room, with a maid helping to remove my wraps, and
arrange my hair. She was gracious and apt, with much to say in praise
of my appearance; and at my expression of doubt, brought a mirror and
held it before me. Then, for the first time, did I comprehend the
magic of Sister Celeste, and what had been accomplished by her deft
fingers. I was no longer a rustic maid, but really a quite grand lady,
so that I felt a thrill of pride as I went forth once more to join
Cassion in the hall. 'Twas plain enough to be seen that my appearance
pleased him also, for appreciation was in his eyes, and he bowed low
over my hand, and lifted it gallantly to his lips.
I will not describe the scene in the great ballroom, for now, as I
write, the brilliant pageant is but a dim memory, confused and
tantalizing. I recall the bright lights overhead, and along the walls,
the festooned banners, the raised dais at one end, carpeted with skins
of wild animals, where the Governor stood, the walls covered with arms
and trophies of the chase, the guard of soldiers at each entrance, and
the mass of people grouped about the room.
It was an immense apartment, but so filled with guests as to leave
scarce space for dancing, and the company was a strange one;
representative, I thought, of each separate element which composed the
population of New France. Officers of the regiments in garrison were
everywhere, apparently in charge of the evening's pleasure, but their
uniforms bore evidence of service. The naval men were less numerous,
yet more brilliantly attired, and seemed fond of the dance, and were
favorites of the ladies. These were young, and many of them beautiful;
belles of Quebec mostly, and, although their gowns were not expensive,
becomingly attired. Yet from up and down the river the seigniors had
brought their wives and daughters to witness the event. Some of these
were uncouth enough, and oddly appareled; not a few among them plainly
exhibiting traces of Indian blood; and here and there, standing silent
and alone, could be noted a red chief from distant forest. Most of
those men I saw bore evidence in face and dress of the wild, rough
life they led--fur traders from far-off waterways, guardians of
wilderness forts, explorers and adventurers.
Many a name reached my ears famous in those days, but forgotten long
since; and once or twice, as we slowly made our way through the
throng, Cassion pointed out to me some character of importance in the
province, or paused to present me with formality to certain officials
whom he knew. It was thus we approached the dais, and awaited our turn
to extend felicitations to the Governor. Just before us was Du L'Hut,
whose name Cassion whispered in my ear, a tall, slender man, attired
as a _courier du bois_, with long fair hair sweeping his shoulders. I
had heard of him as a daring explorer, but there was no premonition
that he would ever again come into my life, and I was more deeply
interested in the appearance of La Barre.
He was a dark man, stern of face, and with strange, furtive eyes,
concealed behind long lashes and overhanging brows. Yet he was most
gracious to Du L'Hut, and when he turned, and perceived Monsieur
Cassion next in line, smiled and extended his hand cordially.
"Ah, Francois, and so you are here at last, and ever welcome. And
this," he bowed low before me in excess of gallantry, "no doubt will
be the Mademoiselle la Chesnayne of whose charms I have heard so much
of late. By my faith, Cassion, even your eloquence hath done small
justice to the lady. Where, Mademoiselle, have you hidden yourself, to
remain unknown to us of Quebec?"
"I have lived with my uncle, Hugo Chevet."
"Ah, yes; I recall the circumstances now--a rough, yet loyal trader.
He was with me once on the Ottawa--and tonight?"
"He accompanied me to the city, your excellency, but I have not seen
him since."
"Small need, with Francois at your beck and call," and he patted me
playfully on the cheek. "I have already tested his faithfulness. Your
father, Mademoiselle?"
"Captain Pierre la Chesnayne, sir."
"Ah, yes; I knew him well; he fell on the Richelieu; a fine soldier."
He turned toward Cassion, the expression of his face changed.
"You depart tonight?"
"At daybreak, sir."
"That is well; see to it that no time is lost on the journey. I have
it in my mind that De Baugis may need you, for, from all I hear Henri
de Tonty is not an easy man to handle."
"De Tonty?"
"Ay! the lieutenant Sieur de la Salle left in charge at St. Louis; an
Italian they tell me, and loyal to his master. 'Tis like he may resist
my orders, and De Baugis hath but a handful with which to uphold
authority. I am not sure I approve of your selecting this lad De
Artigny as a guide; he may play you false."
"Small chance he'll have for any trick."
"Perchance not, yet the way is long, and he knows the wilderness. I
advise you guard him well. I shall send to you for council in an hour;
there are papers yet unsigned."
He turned away to greet those who followed us in line, while we moved
forward into the crowd about the walls. Cassion whispered in my ear,
telling me bits of gossip about this and that one who passed us,
seeking to exhibit his wit, and impress me with his wide acquaintance.
I must have made fit response, for his voice never ceased, yet I felt
no interest in the stories, and disliked the man more than ever for
his vapid boasting. The truth is my thought was principally concerned
with De Artigny, and whether he would really gain admission. Still of
this I had small doubt, for his was a daring to make light of guards,
or any threat of enemies, if desire urged him on. And I had his
pledge.
My eyes watched every moving figure, but the man was not present, my
anxiety increasing as I realized his absence, and speculated as to its
cause. Could Cassion have interfered? Could he have learned of our
interview, and used his influence secretly to prevent our meeting
again? It was not impossible, for the man was seemingly in close touch
with Quebec, and undoubtedly possessed power. My desire to see De
Artigny was now for his own sake--to warn him of danger and treachery.
The few words I had caught passing between La Barre and Cassion had to
me a sinister meaning; they were a promise of protection from the
Governor to his lieutenant, and this officer of La Salle's should be
warned that he was suspected and watched. There was more to La Barre's
words than appeared openly; it would be later, when they were alone,
that he would give his real orders to Cassion. Yet I felt small doubt
as to what those orders would be, nor of the failure of the lieutenant
to execute them. The wilderness hid many a secret, and might well
conceal another. In some manner that night I must find De Artigny, and
whisper my warning.
These were my thoughts, crystallizing into purpose, yet I managed to
smile cheerily into the face of the Commissaire and make such reply to
his badinage as gave him pleasure. Faith, the man loved himself so
greatly the trick was easy, the danger being that I yield too much to
his audacity. No doubt he deemed me a simple country maid, overawed by
his gallantries, nor did I seek to undeceive him, even permitting the
fool to press my hand, and whisper his soft nonsense. Yet he ventured
no further, seeing that in my eyes warning him of danger if he grew
insolent. I danced with him twice, pleased to know I had not forgotten
the step, and then, as he felt compelled to show attention to the
Governor's lady, he left me in charge of a tall, thin officer--a Major
Callons, I think--reluctantly, and disappeared in the crowd. Never did
I part with one more willingly, and as the Major spoke scarcely a
dozen words during our long dance together I found opportunity to
think, and decide upon a course of action.
As the music ceased my only plan was to avoid Cassion as long as
possible, and, at my suggestion, the silent major conducted me to a
side room, and then disappeared seeking refreshments. I grasped the
opportunity to slip through the crowd, and find concealment in a quiet
corner. It was impossible for me to conceive that De Artigny would
fail to come. He had pledged his word, and there was that about the
man to give me faith. Ay! he would come, unless there had already been
treachery. My heart beat swiftly at the thought, my eyes eagerly
searching the moving figures in the ballroom. Yet there was nothing I
could do but wait, although fear was already tugging at my heart.
I leaned forward scanning each passing face, my whole attention
concentrated on the discovery of De Artigny. Where he came from I knew
not, but his voice softly speaking at my very ear brought me to my
feet, with a little cry of relief. The joy of finding him must have
found expression in my eyes, in my eager clasping of his hand, for he
laughed.
"'Tis as though I was truly welcomed, Mademoiselle," he said, and
gravely enough. "Could I hope that you were even seeking me yonder?"
"It would be the truth, if you did," I responded frankly, "and I was
beginning to doubt your promise."
"Nor was it as easily kept as I supposed when given," he said under
his breath. "Come with me into this side room where we can converse
more freely--I can perceive Monsieur Cassion across the floor. No
doubt he is seeking you, and my presence here will give the man no
pleasure."
I glanced in the direction indicated, and although I saw nothing of
the Commissaire, I slipped back willingly enough through the lifted
curtain into the deserted room behind. It was evidently an office of
some kind, for it contained only a desk and some chairs, and was
unlighted, except for the gleam from between the curtains. The outer
wall was so thick a considerable space separated the room from the
window, which was screened off by heavy drapery. De Artigny appeared
familiar with these details, for, with scarcely a glance about, he led
me into this recess, where we stood concealed. Lights from below
illumined our faces, and revealed an open window looking down on the
court. My companion glanced out at the scene beneath, and his eyes and
lips smiled as he turned again and faced me.
"But, Monsieur," I questioned puzzled, "why was it not easy? You met
with trouble?"
"Hardly that; a mere annoyance. I may only suspect the cause, but an
hour after I left you my ticket of invitation was withdrawn."
"Withdrawn? by whom?"
"The order of La Barre, no doubt; an officer of his guard called on me
to say he preferred my absence."
"'Twas the work of Cassion."
"So I chose to believe, especially as he sent me word later to remain
at the boats, and have them in readiness for departure at any minute.
Some inkling of our meeting must have reached his ears."
"But how came you here, then?"
He laughed in careless good humor.
"Why that was no trick! Think you I am one to disappoint because of so
small an obstacle? As the door was refused me I sought other entrance
and found it here." He pointed through the open window. "It was not a
difficult passage, but I had to wait the withdrawal of the guards
below, which caused my late arrival. Yet this was compensated for by
discovering you so quickly. My only fear was encountering someone I
knew while seeking you on the floor."
"You entered through this window?"
"Yes; there is a lattice work below."
"And whose office is that within?"
"My guess is that of Colonel Delguard, La Barre's chief of staff, for
there was a letter for him lying on the desk. What difference? You are
glad I came?"
"Yes, Monsieur, but not so much for my own sake, as for yours. I bring
you warning that you adventure with those who would do you evil if the
chance arrive."
"Bah! Monsieur Cassion?"
"'Tis not well for you to despise the man, for he has power and is a
villain at heart in spite of all his pretty ways. 'Tis said he has the
cruelty of a tiger, and in this case La Barre gives him full
authority."
"Hath the Governor grudge against me also?"
"Only that you are follower of La Salle, and loyal, while he is heart
and hand with the other faction. He chided Cassion for accepting you
as guide, and advised close watch lest you show treachery."
"You overheard their talk?"
"Ay! they made no secret of it; but I am convinced La Barre has more
definite instructions to give in private, for he asked the Commissaire
to come to him later for conference. I felt that you should be told,
Monsieur."
De Artigny leaned motionless against the window ledge, and the light
streaming in through the opening of the draperies revealed the gravity
of his expression. For the moment he remained silent, turning the
affair over in his mind.
"I thank you, Mademoiselle," he said finally, and touched my hand,
"for your report gives me one more link to my chain. I have picked up
several in the past few hours, and all seem to lead back to the
manipulations of Cassion. Faith! there is some mystery here, for
surely the man seemed happy enough when first we met at Chevet's
house, and accepted my offer gladly. Have you any theory as to this
change in his front?"
I felt the blood surge to my cheeks, and my eyes fell before the
intensity of his glance.
"If I have, Monsieur, 'tis no need that it be mentioned."
"Your pardon, Mademoiselle, but your words already answer me--'tis
then that I have shown interest in you; the dog is jealous!"
"Monsieur!"
He laughed, and I felt the tightening of his hand on mine.
"Good! and by all the gods, I will give him fair cause. The thought
pleases me, for rather would I be your soldier than my own. See, how
it dovetails in--I meet you at the convent and pledge you my aid; some
spy bears word of our conference to Monsieur, and an hour later I
receive word that if I have more to do with you I die. I smile at the
warning and send back a message of insult. Then my invitation to this
ball is withdrawn, and, later still, La Barre even advises that I be
assassinated at the least excuse. 'Twould seem they deem you of
importance, Mademoiselle."
"You make it no more than a joke?"
"Far from it; the very fact that I know the men makes it matter of
grave concern. I might, indeed, smile did it concern myself alone, but
I have your interests in mind--you have honored me by calling me your
only friend, and now I know not where I may serve you best--in the
wilderness, or here in Quebec?"
"There can nothing injure me here, Monsieur, not with Cassion
traveling to the Illinois. No doubt he will leave behind him those who
will observe my movements--that cannot harm."
"It is Hugo Chevet, I fear."
"Chevet! my uncle--I do not understand."
"No, for he is your uncle, and you know him only in such relationship.
He may have been to you kind and indulgent. I do not ask. But to those
who meet him in the world he is a big, cruel, savage brute, who would
sacrifice even you, if you stood in his way. And now if you fail to
marry Cassion, you will so stand. He is the one who will guard you, by
choice of the Commissaire, and orders of La Barre, and he will do his
part well."
"I can remain with the sisters."
"Not in opposition to the Governor; they would never dare antagonize
him; tomorrow you will return with Chevet."
I drew a quick breath, my eyes on his face.
"How can you know all this, Monsieur? Why should my uncle sacrifice
me?"
"No matter how I know. Some of it has been your own confession,
coupled with my knowledge of the man. Three days ago I learned of his
debt to Cassion, and that the latter had him in his claws, and at his
mercy. Today I had evidence of what that debt means."
"Today!"
"Ay! 'twas from Chevet the threat came that he would kill me if I ever
met with you again."
I could but stare at him, incredulous, my fingers unconsciously
grasping his jacket.
"He said that? Chevet?"
"Ay! Chevet; the message came by mouth of the half-breed, his
_voyageur_, and I choked out of him where he had left his master, yet
when I got there the man had gone. If we might meet tonight the matter
would be swiftly settled."
He gazed out into the darkness, and I saw his hand close on the hilt
of his knife. I caught his arm.
"No, no Monsieur; not that. You must not seek a quarrel, for I am not
afraid--truly I am not; you will listen--"
There was a voice speaking in the office room behind, the closing of a
door, and the scraping of a chair as someone sat down. My words
ceased, and we stood silent in the shadow, my grasp still on De
Artigny's arm.