CHAPTER XLII. "LET'S TALK OF GRAVES AND WORMS AND EPITAPHS."
About the hour that La Corriveau emerged from the gloomy woods ofBeauport, on her return to the city, the night of the murder ofCaroline, two horsemen were battering at full speed on the highway thatled to Charlebourg. Their dark figures were irrecognizable in the dimmoonlight. They rode fast and silent, like men having important businessbefore them, which demanded haste; business which both fully understoodand cared not now to talk about.
And so it was. Bigot and Cadet, after the exchange of a few words aboutthe hour of midnight, suddenly left the wine, the dice, and the gaycompany at the Palace, and mounting their horses, rode, unattended bygroom or valet, in the direction of Beaumanoir.
Bigot, under the mask of gaiety and indifference, had felt no littlealarm at the tenor of the royal despatch, and at the letter of theMarquise de Pompadour concerning Caroline de St. Castin.
The proximate arrival of Caroline's father in the Colony was acircumstance ominous of trouble. The Baron was no trifler, and would assoon choke a prince as a beggar, to revenge an insult to his personalhonor or the honor of his house.
Bigot cared little for that, however. The Intendant was no coward, andcould brazen a thing out with any man alive. But there was one thingwhich he knew he could not brazen out or fight out, or do anything butmiserably fail in, should it come to the question. He had boldly andwilfully lied at the Governor's council-table--sitting as the King'scouncillor among gentlemen of honor--when he declared that he knew notthe hiding-place of Caroline de St. Castin. It would cover him witheternal disgrace, as a gentleman, to be detected in such a flagrantfalsehood. It would ruin him as a courtier in the favor of the greatMarquise should she discover that, in spite of his denials of the fact,he had harbored and concealed the missing lady in his own chateau.
Bigot was sorely perplexed over this turn of affairs. He uttered athousand curses upon all concerned in it, excepting upon Carolineherself, for although vexed at her coming to him at all, he could notfind it in his heart to curse her. But cursing or blessing availednothing now. Time was pressing, and he must act.
That Caroline would be sought after in every nook and corner of theland, he knew full well, from the character of La Corne St. Luc and ofher father. His own chateau would not be spared in the general search,and he doubted if the secret chamber would remain a secret from the keeneyes of these men. He surmised that others knew of its existence besideshimself: old servitors, and women who had passed in and out of it intimes gone by. Dame Tremblay, who did know of it, was not to be trustedin a great temptation. She was in heart the Charming Josephine still,and could be bribed or seduced by any one who bid high enough for her.
Bigot had no trust whatever in human nature. He felt he had no guaranteeagainst a discovery, farther than interest or fear barred the dooragainst inquiry. He could not rely for a moment upon the inviolabilityof his own house. La Corne St. Luc would demand to search, and he, boundby his declarations of non-complicity in the abduction of Caroline,could offer no reason for refusal without arousing instant suspicion;and La Corne was too sagacious not to fasten upon the remotest trace ofCaroline and follow it up to a complete discovery.
She could not, therefore, remain longer in the Chateau--this wasabsolute; and he must, at whatever cost and whatever risk, remove her toa fresh place of concealment, until the storm blew over, or some othermeans of escape from the present difficulty offered themselves in thechapter of accidents.
In accordance with this design, Bigot, under pretence of business, hadgone off the very next day after the meeting of the Governor's Council,in the direction of the Three Rivers, to arrange with a band ofMontagnais, whom he could rely upon, for the reception of Caroline,in the disguise of an Indian girl, with instructions to remove theirwigwams immediately and take her off with them to the wild, remotevalley of the St. Maurice.
The old Indian chief, eager to oblige the Intendant, had assentedwillingly to his proposal, promising the gentlest treatment of the lady,and a silent tongue concerning her.
Bigot was impressive in his commands upon these points, and the chiefpledged his faith upon them, delighted beyond measure by the promise ofan ample supply of powder, blankets, and provisions for his tribe, whilethe Intendant added an abundance of all such delicacies as could beforwarded, for the use and comfort of the lady.
To carry out this scheme without observation, Bigot needed the help ofa trusty friend, one whom he could thoroughly rely upon, to conveyCaroline secretly away from Beaumanoir, and place her in the keeping ofthe Montagnais, as well as to see to the further execution of his wishesfor her concealment and good treatment.
Bigot had many friends,--men living on his bounty, who ought only tohave been too happy to obey his slightest wishes,--friends bound tohim by disgraceful secrets, and common interests, and pleasures. But hecould trust none of them with the secret of Caroline de St. Castin.
He felt a new and unwonted delicacy in regard to her. Her name wasdear to him, her fame even was becoming dearer. To his own surprise ittroubled him now as it had never troubled him before. He would not haveher name defiled in the mouths of such men as drank his wine daily andnightly, and disputed the existence of any virtue in woman.
Bigot ground his teeth as he muttered to himself that they might make amock of whatever other women they pleased. He himself could out-do themall in coarse ribaldry of the sex, but they should not make a mockand flash obscene jests at the mention of Caroline de St. Castin! Theyshould never learn her name. He could not trust one of them withthe secret of her removal. And yet some one of them must perforce beentrusted with it!
He conned over the names of his associates one by one, and one by onecondemned them all as unworthy of confidence in a matter where treacherymight possibly be made more profitable than fidelity. Bigot was falsehimself to the heart's core, and believed in no man's truth.
He was an acute judge of men. He read their motives, their bad onesespecially, with the accuracy of a Mephistopheles, and with the samecold contempt for every trace of virtue.
Varin was a cunning knave, he said, ambitious of the support of theChurch; communing with his aunt, the Superior of the Ursulines, whom hedeceived, and who was not without hope of himself one day rising to beIntendant. He would place no such secret in the keeping of Varin!
Penisault was a sordid dog. He would cheat the Montagnais of his gifts,and so discontent them with their charge. He had neither courage norspirit for an adventure. He was in his right place superintending thecounters of the Friponne. He despised Penisault, while glad to use himin the basest offices of the Grand Company.
Le Mercier was a pickthank, angling after the favor of La Pompadour,--apretentious knave, as hollow as one of his own mortars. He suspected himof being a spy of hers upon himself. Le Mercier would be only too gladto send La Pompadour red-hot information of such an important secret asthat of Caroline, and she would reward it as good service to the Kingand to herself.
Deschenaux was incapable of keeping a secret of any kind when he gotdrunk, or in a passion, which was every day. His rapacity reached to thevery altar. He would rob a church, and was one who would rather takeby force than favor. He would strike a Montagnais who would ask fora blanket more than he had cheated him with. He would not trustDeschenaux.
De Pean, the quiet fox, was wanted to look after that desperate gallant,Le Gardeur de Repentigny, who was still in the Palace, and must be keptthere by all the seductions of wine, dice, and women, until we have donewith him. De Pean was the meanest spirit of them all. "He would kiss myfoot in the morning and sell me at night for a handful of silver," saidBigot. Villains, every one of them, who would not scruple to advancetheir own interests with La Pompadour by his betrayal in telling hersuch a secret as that of Caroline's.
De Repentigny had honor and truth in him, and could be entirely trustedif he promised to serve a friend. But Bigot dared not name to him amatter of this kind. He would spurn it, drunk as he was. He was stillin all his ins
tincts a gentleman and a soldier. He could only be usedby Bigot through an abuse of his noblest qualities. He dared not broachsuch a scheme to Le Gardeur de Repentigny!
Among his associates there was but one who, in spite of his brutalmanners and coarse speech, perhaps because of these, Bigot would trustas a friend, to help him in a serious emergency like the present.
Cadet, the Commissary General of New France, was faithful to Bigot as afierce bull-dog to his master. Cadet was no hypocrite, nay, he may haveappeared to be worse than in reality he was. He was bold and outspoken,rapacious of other men's goods, and as prodigal of his own. Cleverwithal, fearless, and fit for any bold enterprise. He ever allowedhimself to be guided by the superior intellect of Bigot, whom heregarded as the prince of good fellows, and swore by him, profanelyenough, on all occasions, as the shrewdest head and the quickest hand toturn over money in New France.
Bigot could trust Cadet. He had only to whisper a few words in his earto see him jump up from the table where he was playing cards, dash hisstakes with a sweep of his hand into the lap of his antagonist, a giftor a forfeit, he cared not which, for not finishing the game. In threeminutes Cadet was booted, with his heavy riding-whip in his hand readyto mount his horse and accompany Bigot "to Beaumanoir or to hell," hesaid, "if he wanted to go there."
In the short space of time, while the grooms saddled their horses, Bigotdrew Cadet aside and explained to him the situation of his affairs,informing him, in a few words, who the lady was who lived in suchretirement in the Chateau, and of his denial of the fact before theCouncil and Governor. He told him of the letters of the King and of LaPompadour respecting Caroline, and of the necessity of removing her atonce far out of reach before the actual search for her was begun.
Cadet's cynical eyes flashed in genuine sympathy with Bigot, and helaid his heavy hand upon his shoulder and uttered a frank exclamation ofadmiration at his ruse to cheat La Pompadour and La Galissoniere both.
"By St. Picot!" said he, "I would rather go without dinner for a monththan you should not have asked me, Bigot, to help you out of thisscrape. What if you did lie to that fly-catching beggar at the Castleof St. Louis, who has not conscience to take a dishonest stiver from acheating Albany Dutchman! Where was the harm in it? Better lie to himthan tell the truth to La Pompadour about that girl! Egad! Madame Fishwould serve you as the Iroquois served my fat clerk at Chouagen--makeroast meat of you--if she knew it! Such a pother about a girl! Damn thewomen, always, I say, Bigot! A man is never out of hot water when he hasto do with them!"
Striking Bigot's hand hard with his own, he promised; wet or dry,through flood or fire, to ride with him to Beaumanoir, and take thegirl, or lady,--he begged the Intendant's pardon,--and by such waysas he alone knew he would, in two days, place her safely among theMontagnais, and order them at once, without an hour's delay, to pull upstakes and remove their wigwams to the tuque of the St. Maurice, whereSatan himself could not find her. And the girl might remain there forseven years without ever being heard tell of by any white person in theColony.
Bigot and Cadet rode rapidly forward until they came to the dark forest,where the faint outline of road, barely visible, would have perplexedBigot to have kept it alone in the night. But Cadet was born inCharlebourg; he knew every path, glade, and dingle in the forest ofBeaumanoir, and rode on without drawing bridle.
Bigot, in his fiery eagerness, had hitherto ridden foremost. Cadet nowled the way, dashing under the boughs of the great trees that overhungthe road. The tramp of their horses woke the echoes of the woods. Butthey were not long in reaching the park of Beaumanoir.
They saw before them the tall chimney-stacks and the high roofs andthe white walls of the Chateau, looking spectral enough in the wanmoonlight,--ghostly, silent, and ominous. One light only was visible inthe porter's lodge; all else was dark, cold, and sepulchral.
The watchful old porter at the gate was instantly on foot to see whocame at that hour, and was surprised enough at sight of his master andthe Sieur Cadet, without retinue or even a groom to accompany them.
They dismounted and tied their horses outside the gate. "Run to theChateau, Marcele, without making the least noise," said Bigot. "Callnone of the servants, but rap gently at the door of Dame Tremblay. Bidher rise instantly, without waking any one. Say the Intendant desires tosee her. I expect guests from the city."
The porter returned with the information that Dame Tremblay had got upand was ready to receive his Excellency.
Bidding old Marcele take care of the horses, they walked across thelawn to the Chateau, at the door of which stood Dame Tremblay, hastilydressed, courtesying and trembling at this sudden summons to receive theIntendant and Sieur Cadet.
"Good night, dame!" said Bigot, in a low tone, "conduct us instantly tothe grand gallery."
"Oh, your Excellency!" replied the dame, courtesying, "I am your humbleservant at all times, day and night, as it is my duty and my pleasure toserve my master!"
"Well, then!" returned Bigot, impatiently, "let us go in and make nonoise."
The three, Dame Tremblay leading the way with a candle in each hand,passed up the broad stair and into the gallery communicating with theapartments of Caroline. The dame set her candles on the table and stoodwith her hands across her apron in a submissive attitude, waiting theorders of her master.
"Dame!" said he, "I think you are a faithful servant. I have trusted youwith much. Can I trust you with a greater matter still?"
"Oh, your Excellency! I would die to serve so noble and generous amaster! It is a servant's duty!"
"Few servants think so, nor do I! But you have been faithful to yourcharge respecting this poor lady within, have you not, dame?" Bigotlooked as if his eyes searched her very vitals.
"O Lord! O Lord!" thought the dame, turning pale. "He has heard aboutthe visit of that cursed Mere Malheur, and he has come to hang me up forit in the gallery!" She stammered out in reply, "Oh, yes! I have beenfaithful to my charge about the lady, your Excellency! I have not failedwilfully or negligently in any one point, I assure you! I have been atonce careful and kind to her, as you bade me to be, your Excellency.Indeed, I could not be otherwise to a live angel in the house like her!"
"So I believe, dame!" said Bigot, in a tone of approval that quitelifted her heart. This spontaneous praise of Caroline touched himsomewhat. "You have done well! Now can you keep another secret, dame?"
"A secret! and entrusted to me by your Excellency!" replied she, in avoice of wonder at such a question. "The marble statue in the grotto isnot closer than I am, your Excellency. I was always too fond of a secretever to part with it! When I was the Charming Josephine of Lake BeauportI never told, even in confession, who they were who--"
"Tut! I will trust you, dame, better than I would have trusted theCharming Josephine! If all tales be true, you were a gay girl, dame, anda handsome one in those days, I have heard!" added the Intendant, withwell-planned flattery.
A smile and a look of intelligence between the dame and Bigot followedthis sally, while Cadet had much to do to keep in one of the heartyhorse-laughs he used to indulge in, and which would have roused thewhole Chateau.
The flattery of the Intendant quite captivated the dame. "I will gothrough fire and water to serve your Excellency, if you want me," saidshe. "What shall I do to oblige your Excellency?"
"Well, dame, you must know then that the Sieur Cadet and I have cometo remove that dear lady from the Chateau to another place, where it isneedful for her to go for the present time; and if you are questionedabout her, mind you are to say she never was here, and you know nothingof her!"
"I will not only say it," replied the dame with promptness, "Iwill swear it until I am black in the face if you command me, yourExcellency! Poor, dear lady! may I not ask where she is going?"
"No, she will be all right! I will tell you in due time. It is needfulfor people to change sometimes, you know, dame! You comprehend that! Youhad to manage matters discreetly when you were the Charming Josephine. Idare say you had to c
hange, too, sometimes! Every woman has an intrigueonce, at least, in her lifetime, and wants a change. But this lady isnot clever like the Charming Josephine, therefore we have to be cleverfor her!"
The dame laughed prudently yet knowingly at this, while Bigotcontinued, "Now you understand all! Go to her chamber, dame. Present ourcompliments with our regrets for disturbing her at this hour. Tell herthat the Intendant and the Sieur Cadet desire to see her on importantbusiness."
Dame Tremblay, with a broad smile all over her countenance at hermaster's jocular allusions to the Charming Josephine, left at once tocarry her message to the chamber of Caroline.
She passed out, while the two gentlemen waited in the gallery, Bigotanxious but not doubtful of his influence to persuade the gentle girl toleave the Chateau, Cadet coolly resolved that she must go, whether sheliked it or no. He would banish every woman in New France to the tuqueof the St. Maurice had he the power, in order to rid himself and Bigotof the eternal mischief and trouble of them!
Neither Bigot nor Cadet spoke for some minutes after the departure ofthe dame. They listened to her footsteps as the sound of them died awayin the distant rooms, where one door opened after another as she passedon to the secret chamber.
"She is now at the door of Caroline!" thought Bigot, as his imaginationfollowed Dame Tremblay on her errand. "She is now speaking to her. Iknow Caroline will make no delay to admit us." Cadet on his side wasvery quiet and careless of aught save to take the girl and get hersafely away before daybreak.
A few moments of heavy silence and expectation passed over them. Thehowl of a distant watch-dog was heard, and all was again still. The low,monotonous ticking of the great clock at the head of the gallerymade the silence still more oppressive. It seemed to be measuring offeternity, not time.
The hour, the circumstance, the brooding stillness, waited for a cry ofmurder to ring through the Chateau, waking its sleepers and bidding themcome and see the fearful tragedy that lay in the secret chamber.
But no cry came. Fortunately for Bigot it did not! The discovery ofCaroline de St. Castin under such circumstances would have closed hiscareer in New France, and ruined him forever in the favor of the Court.
Dame Tremblay returned to her master and Cadet with the information"that the lady was not in her bedchamber, but had gone down, as was herwont, in the still hours of the night, to pray in her oratory in thesecret chamber, where she wished never to be disturbed.
"Well, dame," replied Bigot, "you may retire to your own room. I willgo down to the secret chamber myself. These vigils are killing her, poorgirl! If your lady should be missing in the morning, remember, dame,that you make no remark of it; she is going away to-night with me andthe Sieur Cadet and will return soon again; so be discreet and keep yourtongue well between your teeth, which, I am glad to observe," remarkedhe with a smile, "are still sound and white as ivory."
Bigot wished by such flattery to secure her fidelity, and he fullysucceeded. The compliment to her teeth was more agreeable than wouldhave been a purse of money. It caught the dame with a hook there was noescape from.
Dame Tremblay courtesied very low, and smiled very broadly to show herreally good teeth, of which she was extravagantly vain. She assured theIntendant of her perfect discretion and obedience to all his commands.
"Trust to me, your Excellency," said she with a profound courtesy. "Inever deceived a gentleman yet, except the Sieur Tremblay, and he,good man, was none! When I was the Charming Josephine, and all the gaygallants of the city used to flatter and spoil me, I never deceived oneof them, never! I knew that all is vanity in this world, but my eyes andteeth were considered very fine in those days, your Excellency."
"And are yet, dame. Zounds! Lake Beauport has had nothing to equal themsince you retired from business as a beauty. But mind my orders, dame!keep quiet and you will please me. Good-night, dame!"
"Good-night, your Excellency! Good-night, your Honor!" replied she,flushed with gratified vanity. She left Bigot vowing to herself that hewas the finest gentleman and the best judge of a woman in New France!The Sieur Cadet she could not like. He never looked pleasant on a woman,as a gentleman ought to do!
The dame left them to themselves, and went off trippingly in highspirits to her own chamber, where she instantly ran to the mirror tolook at her teeth, and made faces in the glass like a foolish girl inher teens.
Bigot, out of a feeling of delicacy not usual with him, bid Cadet waitin the anteroom while he went forward to the secret chamber of Caroline."The sudden presence of a stranger might alarm her," he said.
He descended the stair and knocked softly at the door, calling in a lowtone, "Caroline! Caroline!" No answer came. He wondered at that, for herquick ear used always to catch the first sound of his footsteps whileyet afar off.
He knocked louder, and called again her name. Alas! he might have calledforever! That voice would never make her heart flutter again or her eyesbrighten at his footstep, that sounded sweeter than any music as shewaited and watched for him, always ready to meet him at the door.
Bigot anticipated something wrong, and with a hasty hand pushed openthe door of the secret chamber and went in. A blaze of light filledhis eyes. A white form lay upon the floor. He saw it and he saw nothingelse! She lay there with her unclosed eyes looking as the dead onlylook at the living. One hand was pressed to her bosom, the other wasstretched out, holding the broken stem and a few green leaves of thefatal bouquet which La Corriveau had not wholly plucked from her grasp.
Bigot stood for a moment stricken dumb and transfixed with horror, thensprang forward and knelt over her with a cry of agony. He thought shemight have fallen in a swoon. He touched her pale forehead, her lips,her hands. He felt her heart, it did not beat; he lifted her head to hisbosom, it fell like the flower of a lily broken on its stem, and he knewshe was dead. He saw the red streaks of blood on her snowy robe, and heknew she was murdered.
A long cry like the wail of a man in torture burst from him. It wokemore than one sleeper in the distant chambers of the Chateau, makingthem start upon their pillows to listen for another cry, but none came.Bigot was a man of iron; he retained self-possession enough to recollectthe danger of rousing the house.
He smothered his cries in suffocating sobs, but they reached the ear ofCadet, who, foreboding some terrible catastrophe, rushed into the roomwhere the secret door stood open. The light glared up the stair. He randown and saw the Intendant on his knees, holding in his arms the halfraised form of a woman which he kissed and called by name like a mandistraught with grief and despair.
Cadet's coarse and immovable nature stood him in good stead at thismoment. He saw at a glance what had happened. The girl they had cometo bear away was dead! How? He knew not; but the Intendant must not besuffered to make an alarm. There was danger of discovery on all sidesnow, and the necessity of concealment was a thousand times greater thanever. There was no time to question, but instant help was needed.In amaze at the spectacle before him, Cadet instantly flew to theassistance of the Intendant.
He approached Bigot without speaking a word, although his great eyesexpressed a look of sympathy never seen there before. He disengaged thedead form of Caroline tenderly from the embrace of Bigot, and laid itgently upon the floor, and lifting Bigot up in his stout arms, whisperedhoarsely in his ear, "Keep still, Bigot! keep still! not one word! makeno alarm! This is a dreadful business, but we must go to another room toconsider calmly, calmly, mind, what it means and what is to be done."
"Oh, Cadet! Cadet!" moaned the Intendant, still resting on his shoulder,"she is dead! dead! when I just wanted her to live! I have been hardwith women, but if there was one I loved it was she who lies dead beforeme! Who, who has done this bloody deed to me?"
"Who has done it to her, you mean! You are not killed yet, old friend,but will live to revenge this horrid business!" answered Cadet withrough sympathy.
"I would give my life to restore hers!" replied Bigot despairingly. "Oh,Cadet, you never knew what was in my heart about this g
irl, and how Ihad resolved to make her reparation for the evil I had done her!"
"Well, I can guess what was in your heart, Bigot. Come, old friend, youare getting more calm, you can walk now. Let us go upstairs to considerwhat is to be done about it. Damn the women! They are man's tormentwhether alive or dead!"
Bigot was too much absorbed in his own tumultuous feelings to noticeCadet's remark. He allowed himself to be led without resistance toanother room, out of sight of the murdered girl, in whose presence Cadetknew calm council was impossible.
Cadet seated Bigot on a couch and, sitting beside him, bade him be a manand not a fool. He tried to rouse Bigot by irritating him, thinking, inhis coarse way, that that was better than to be maudlin over him, as heconsidered it, with vain expressions of sympathy.
"I would not give way so," said he, "for all the women in and out ofParadise! and you are a man, Bigot! Remember you have brought me here,and you have to take me safely back again, out of this den of murder."
"Yes, Cadet," replied Bigot, rousing himself up at the sharp tone of hisfriend. "I must think of your safety; I care little for my own at thismoment. Think for me."
"Well, then, I will think for you, and I think this, Bigot, that if theGovernor finds out this assassination, done in your house, and that youand I have been here at this hour of night with the murdered girl, byGod! he will say we have alone done it, and the world will believe it!So rouse up, I for one do not want to be taxed with the murder of awoman, and still less to be hung innocently for the death of one. Iwould not risk my little finger for all the women alive, let alone myneck for a dead one!"
The suggestion was like a sharp probe in his flesh. It touched Bigotto the quick. He started up on his feet. "You are right, Cadet, it onlywants that accusation to make me go mad! But my head is not my own yet!I can think of nothing but her lying there, dead in her loveliness andin her love! Tell me what to do, and I will do it."
"Ay, now you talk reasonably. Now you are coming to yourself, Bigot. Wecame to remove her alive from here, did we not? We must now remove herdead. She cannot remain where she is at the risk of certain discoveryto-morrow."
"No, the secret chamber would not hide such a secret as that," repliedBigot, recovering his self-possession. "But how to remove her? We cannotcarry her forth without discovery." Bigot's practical intellect waswaking up to the danger of leaving the murdered girl in the Chateau.
Cadet rose and paced the room with rapid strides, rubbing his forehead,and twitching his mustache violently. "I will tell you what we have gotto do, Bigot! Par Dieu! we must bury her where she is, down there in thevaulted chamber."
"What, bury her?" Bigot looked at him with intense surprise.
"Yes, we must bury her in that very chamber, Bigot. We must cover upsomebody's damnable work to avert suspicion from ourselves! A prettytask for you and me, Bigot! Par Dieu! I could laugh like a horse, if Iwere not afraid of being overheard."
"But who is to dig a grave for her? surely not you or I," replied Bigotwith a look of dismay.
"Yes, gentlemen as we are, you and I must do it, Bigot. Zounds! Ilearned to dig and delve when I was a stripling at Charlebourg, and inthe trenches at Louisbourg, and I have not yet forgotten the knack ofit! But where to get spades, Bigot; you are master here and ought toknow."
"I, how should I know? It is terrible, Cadet, to bury her as if we hadmurdered her! Is there no other way?"
"None. We are in a cahot and must get our cariole out of it as best wecan! I see plainly we two shall be taxed with this murder, Bigot, if welet it be discovered! Besides, utter ruin awaits you from La Pompadourif she finds out you ever had this girl at Beaumanoir in keeping. Come!time for parley is past; where shall we find spades? We must to work,Bigot!"
A sudden thought lighted up the eyes of the Intendant, who saw theforce of Cadet's suggestion, strange and repulsive as it was. "I think Iknow," said he; "the gardeners keep their tools in the old tower, and wecan get there by the secret passage and return."
"Bravo!" exclaimed Cadet, encouragingly, "come, show the way, and wewill get the tools in a trice! I always heard there was a private wayunderground to the old tower. It never stood its master in better steadthan now; perhaps never worse if it has let in the murderer of this poorgirl of yours."
Bigot rose up, very faint and weak; Cadet took his arm to support him,and bidding him be firm and not give way again at sight of her deadbody, led him back to the chamber of death. "Let us first look arounda moment," said he, "to find, if possible, some trace of the hellishassassins."
The lamps burned brightly, shedding a glare of light over every objectin the secret chamber.
Cadet looked narrowly round, but found little trace of the murderers.The drawers of the escritoire stood open, with their contents in greatdisorder, a circumstance which at once suggested robbers. Cadet pointedit out to Bigot with the question:
"Kept she much money, Bigot?"
"None that I know of. She asked for none, poor girl! I gave her none,though I would have given her the King's treasury had she wished forit."
"But she might have had money when she came, Bigot," continued Cadet,not doubting but robbery had been the motive for the murder.
"It may be, I never questioned her," replied Bigot; "she never spoke ofmoney; alas! all the money in the world was as dross in her estimation.Other things than money occupied her pure thoughts."
"Well, it looks like robbers: they have ransacked the drawers andcarried off all she had, were it much or little," remarked Cadet, stillcontinuing his search.
"But why kill her? Oh, Cadet, why kill the gentle girl, who would havegiven every jewel in her possession for the bare asking?"
"Nay, I cannot guess," said Cadet. "It looks like robbers, but themystery is beyond my wit to explain. What are you doing, Bigot?"
Bigot had knelt down by the side of Caroline; he lifted her hand firstto his lips, then towards Cadet, to show him the stalk of a rose fromwhich the flower had been broken, and which she held with a grip so hardthat it could not be loosened from her dead fingers.
The two men looked long and earnestly at it, but failed to make aconjecture even why the flower had been plucked from that broken stalkand carried away, for it was not to be seen in the room.
The fragment of a letter lay under a chair. It was a part of that whichLa Corriveau had torn up and missed to gather up again with the rest.Cadet picked it up and thrust it into his pocket.
The blood streaks upon her white robe and the visible stabs of a fineponiard riveted their attention. That that was the cause of her deaththey doubted not, but the mute eloquence of her wounds spoke only to theheat. It gave no explanation to the intellect. The whole tragedy seemedwrapped in inexplicable mystery.
"They have covered their track up well!" remarked Cadet. "Hey! but whathave we here?" Bigot started up at the exclamation. The door of thesecret passage stood open. La Corriveau had not closed it after her whenmaking her escape. "Here is where the assassins have found entrance andexit! Egad! More people know the secret of your Chateau than you think,Bigot!"
They sprang forward, and each seizing a lamp, the two men rushed intothe narrow passage. It was dark and still as the catacombs. No trace ofanything to the purpose could they perceive in the vaulted subterraneanway to the turret.
They speedily came to the other end; the secret door there stood openalso. They ascended the stairs in the tower, but could see no trace ofthe murderers. "It is useless to search further for them at this time,"remarked Cadet, "perhaps not safe at any time, but I would give my besthorse to lay hands on the assassins at this moment."
Gardeners' tools lay around the room. "Here," exclaimed Cadet, "is whatis equally germane to the matter, and we have no time to lose."
He seized a couple of spades and a bar of iron, and bidding Bigot gobefore him with the lights, they returned to the chamber of death.
"Now for work! This sad business must be done well, and done quickly!"exclaimed Cadet. "You shall see that I have not forgott
en how to dig,Bigot!"
Cadet threw off his coat, and setting to work, pulled up the thickcarpet from one side of the chamber. The floor was covered with broad,smooth flags, one of which he attacked with the iron bar, raised theflagstone and turned it over; another easily followed, and very soon aspace in the dry brown earth was exposed, large enough to make a grave.
Bigot looked at him in a sort of dream. "I cannot do it, Cadet! I cannotdig her grave!" and he threw down the spade which he had taken feebly inhis hand.
"No matter, Bigot! I will do it! Indeed, you would only be in my way.Sit down while I dig, old friend. Par Dieu! this is nice work for theCommissary General of New France, with the Royal Intendant overseeinghim!"
Bigot sat down and looked forlornly on while Cadet with the arms of aHercules dug and dug, throwing out the earth without stopping for thespace of a quarter of an hour, until he had made a grave large and deepenough to contain the body of the hapless girl.
"That will do!" cried he, leaping out of the pit. "Our funeralarrangements must be of the briefest, Bigot! So come help me to shroudthis poor girl."
Cadet found a sheet of linen and some fine blankets upon a couch in thesecret chamber. He spread them out upon the floor, and motioned to Bigotwithout speaking. The two men lifted Caroline tenderly and reverentlyupon the sheet. They gazed at her for a minute in solemn silence, beforeshrouding her fair face and slender form in their last winding-sheet.Bigot was overpowered with his feelings, yet strove to master them, ashe gulped down the rising in his throat which at times almost strangledhim.
Cadet, eager to get his painful task over, took from the slender fingerof Caroline a ring, a love-gift of Bigot, and from her neck a goldenlocket containing his portrait and a lock of his hair. A rosary hung ather waist; this Cadet also detached, as a precious relic to be givento the Intendant by and by. There was one thread of silk woven into thecoarse hempen nature of Cadet.
Bigot stooped down and gave her pale lips and eyes, which he hadtenderly closed, a last despairing kiss, before veiling her face withthe winding-sheet as she lay, white as a snow-drift, and as cold. Theywrapped her softly in the blankets, and without a word spoken, loweredthe still, lissom body into its rude grave.
The awful silence was only broken by the spasmodic sobs of Bigot as heleaned over the grave to look his last upon the form of the fair girlwhom he had betrayed and brought to this untimely end. "Mea culpa! Meamaxima culpa!" said he, beating his breast. "Oh, Cadet, we are buryingher like a dog! I cannot, I cannot do it!"
The Intendant's feelings overcame him again, and he rushed from thechamber, while Cadet, glad of his absence for a few moments, hastilyfilled up the grave and, replacing with much care the stone slabsover it, swept the debris into the passage and spread the carpetagain smoothly over the floor. Every trace of the dreadful deed wasobliterated in the chamber of murder.
Cadet, acutely thinking of everything at this supreme moment, wouldleave no ground of suspicion for Dame Tremblay when she came in themorning to visit the chamber. She should think that her lady had goneaway with her master as mysteriously as she had come, and no furtherinquiry would be made after her. In this Cadet was right.
It was necessary for Cadet and Bigot now to depart by the secret passageto the tower. The deep-toned bell of the chateau struck three.
"We must now be gone, Bigot, and instantly," exclaimed Cadet. "Our nightwork is done! Let us see what day will bring forth! You must see toit to-morrow, Bigot, that no man or woman alive ever again enter thisaccursed chamber of death!"
Cadet fastened the secret door of the stair, and gathering up his spadesand bar of iron, left the chamber with Bigot, who was passive as a childin his hands. The Intendant turned round and gave one last sorrowfullook at the now darkened room as they left it. Cadet and he made theirway back to the tower. They sallied out into the open air, which blewfresh and reviving upon their fevered faces after escaping from thestifling atmosphere below.
They proceeded at once towards their horses and mounted them, but Bigotfelt deadly faint and halted under a tree while Cadet rode back to theporter's lodge and roused up old Marcele to give him some brandy, if hehad any, "as of course he had," said Cadet. Brandy was a gate-porter'sinside livery, the lining of his laced coat which he always wore. Cadetassumed a levity which he did not really feel.
Marcele fortunately could oblige the Sieur Cadet. "He did line hislivery a little, but lightly, as his Honor would see!" said he, bringingout a bottle of cognac and a drinking-cup.
"It is to keep us from catching cold!" continued Cadet in his peculiarway. "Is it good?" He placed the bottle to his lips and tasted it.
Marcele assured him it was good as gold.
"Right!" said Cadet, throwing Marcele a louis d'or. "I will take thebottle to the Intendant to keep him from catching cold too! Mind,Marcele, you keep your tongue still, or else--!" Cadet held up his whip,and bidding the porter "good-night!" rejoined Bigot.
Cadet had a crafty design in this proceeding. He wanted not to tellMarcele that a lady was accompanying them; also not to let him perceivethat they left Beaumanoir without one. He feared that the old porter andDame Tremblay might possibly compare notes together, and the housekeeperdiscover that Caroline had not left Beaumanoir with the Intendant.
Bigot sat faint and listless in his saddle when Cadet poured out a largecupful of brandy and offered it to him. He drank it eagerly. Cadet thenfilled and gulped down a large cupful himself, then gave another to theIntendant, and poured another and another for himself until, he said,he "began to feel warm and comfortable, and got the damnable taste ofgrave-digging out of his mouth!"
The heavy draught which Cadet forced the Intendant to take relieved himsomewhat, but he groaned inwardly and would not speak. Cadet respectedhis mood, only bidding him ride fast. They spurred their horses, androde swiftly, unobserved by any one, until they entered the gates of thePalace of the Intendant.
The arrival of the Intendant or the Sieur Cadet at the Palace at anyuntimely hour of the night excited no remark whatever, for it was therule, rather than the exception with them both.
Dame Tremblay was not surprised next morning to find the chamber emptyand the lady gone.
She shook her head sadly. "He is a wild gallant, is my master! No wilderever came to Lake Beauport when I was the Charming Josephine and all theworld ran after me. But I can keep a secret, and I will! This secret Imust keep at any rate, by the Intendant's order, and I would ratherdie than be railed at by that fierce Sieur Cadet! I will keep theIntendant's secret safe as my teeth, which he praised so handsomely andso justly!"
The fact that Caroline never returned to the Chateau, and that thesearch for her was so long and so vainly carried on by La Corne St. Lucand the Baron de St. Castin, caused the dame to suspect at last thatsome foul play had been perpetrated, but she dared not speak openly.
The old woman's suspicions grew with age into certainties, when atlast she chanced to talk with her old fellow servant, Marcele, thegatekeeper, and learned from him that Bigot and Cadet had left theChateau alone on that fatal night. Dame Tremblay was more perplexedthan ever. She talked, she knew not what, but her talk passed into thetraditions of the habitans.
It became the popular belief that a beautiful woman, the mistress of thepowerful Intendant Bigot, had been murdered and buried in the Chateau ofBeaumanoir.