Gabord, coming in to me one day after I had lain down to sleep, said,
“See, m’sieu’ the dormouse, ‘tis holiday-eve; the King’s sport comes
to-morrow.”
I sat up in bed with a start, for I knew not but that my death had been
decided on without trial; and yet on second thought I was sure this
could not be, for every rule of military conduct was against it.
“Whose holiday?” asked I after a moment; “and what is King’s sport?”
“You’re to play bear in the streets to-morrow--which is sport for the
King,” he retorted; “we lead you by a rope, and you dance the quickstep
to please our ladies all the way to the Chateau, where they bring the
bear to drum-head.”
“Who sits behind the drum?” I questioned.
“The Marquis de Vaudreuil,” he replied, “the Intendant, Master Devil
Doltaire, and the little men.” By these last he meant officers of the
colonial soldiery.
So then, at last I was to be tried, to be dealt with definitely on the
abominable charge. I should at least again see light and breathe fresh
air, and feel about me the stir of the world. For a long year I had
heard no voice but my own and Gabord’s, had had no friends but my pale
blades of corn and a timid mouse, day after day no light at all; and now
winter was at hand again, and without fire and with poor food my body
was chilled and starved. I had had no news of the world, nor of her who
was dear to me, nor of Juste Duvarney save that he lived, nor of our
cause. But succeeding the thrill of delight I had at thought of seeing
the open world again there came a feeling of lassitude, of indifference;
I shrank from the jar of activity. But presently I got upon my feet, and
with a little air of drollery straightened out my clothes and flicked a
handkerchief across my gaiters. Then I twisted my head over my shoulder
as if I were noting the shape of my back and the set of my clothes in a
mirror, and thrust a leg out in the manner of an exquisite. I had need
to do some mocking thing at the moment, or I should have given way to
tears like a woman, so suddenly weak had I become.
Gabord burst out laughing.
An idea came to me. “I must be fine to-morrow,” said I. “I must not
shame my jailer.” I rubbed my beard--I had none when I came into this
dungeon first.
“Aho!” said he, his eyes wheeling.
I knew he understood me. I did not speak, but went on running my fingers
through my beard.
“As vain as Absalom,” he added. “Do you think they’ll hang you by the
hair?”
“I’d have it off,” said I, “to be clean for the sacrifice.”
“You had Voban before,” he rejoined; “we know what happened--a dainty
bit of a letter all rose-lily scented, and comfits for the soldier.
The pretty wren perches now in the Governor’s house--a-cousining,
a-cousining. Think you it is that she may get a glimpse of m’sieu’ the
dormouse as he comes to trial? But ‘tis no business o’ mine; and if I
bring my prisoner up when called for, there’s duty done!”