Le chien d'or. English
CHAPTER XLIV. THE INTENDANT'S DILEMMA.
"Did I not know for a certainty that she was present till midnight atthe party given by Madame de Grandmaison, I should suspect her, by God!"exclaimed the Intendant, as he paced up and down his private room inthe Palace, angry and perplexed to the uttermost over the mysteriousassassination at Beaumanoir. "What think you, Cadet?"
"I think that proves an alibi," replied Cadet, stretching himself lazilyin an armchair and smoking with half-shut eyes. There was a cynical,mocking tone in his voice which seemed to imply that although it provedan alibi, it did not prove innocence to the satisfaction of the SieurCadet.
"You think more than you say, Cadet. Out with it! Let me hear the worstof your suspicions. I fancy they chime with mine," said the Intendant,in quick reply.
"As the bells of the Cathedral with the bells of the Recollets," drawledout Cadet. "I think she did it, Bigot, and you think the same; but Ishould not like to be called upon to prove it, nor you either,--not forthe sake of the pretty witch, but for your own."
"I could prove nothing, Cadet. She was the gayest and most light-heartedof all the company last night at Madame de Grandmaison's. I have madethe most particular inquiries of Varin and Deschenaux. They needed noasking, but burst out at once into praise and admiration of her gaietyand wit. It is certain she was not at Beaumanoir."
"You often boasted you knew women better than I, and I yielded the pointin regard to Angelique," replied Cadet, refilling his pipe. "I did notprofess to fathom the depths of that girl, but I thought you knew her.Egad! she has been too clever for you, Bigot! She has aimed to be theLady Intendant, and is in a fair way to succeed! That girl has thespirit of a war-horse; she would carry any man round the world. I wishshe would carry me. I would rule Versailles in six weeks, with thatwoman, Bigot!"
"The same thought has occurred to me, Cadet, and I might have beenentrapped by it had not this cursed affair happened. La Pompadour is asimpleton beside Angelique des Meloises! My difficulty is to believe herso mad as to have ventured on this bold deed."
"'Tis not the boldness, only the uselessness of it, would stopAngelique!" answered Cadet, shutting one eye with an air of lazycomfort.
"But the deceitfulness of it, Cadet! A girl like her could not be sogay last night with such a bloody purpose on her soul. Could she, thinkyou?"
"Couldn't she? Tut! Deceit is every woman's nature! Her wardrobe is notcomplete unless it contains as many lies for her occasions as ribbonsfor her adornment!"
"You believe she did it then? What makes you think so, Cadet?" askedBigot eagerly, drawing near his companion.
"Why, she and you are the only persons on earth who had an interest inthat girl's death. She to get a dangerous rival out of the way,--you tohide her from the search-warrants sent out by La Pompadour. You didnot do it, I know: ergo, she did! Can any logic be plainer? That is thereason I think so, Bigot."
"But how has it been accomplished, Cadet? Have you any theory? SHE cannot have done it with her own hand."
"Why, there is only one way that I can see. We know she did not do themurder herself, therefore she has done it by the hand of another.Here is proof of a confederate, Bigot,--I picked this up in the secretchamber." Cadet drew out of his pocket the fragment of the letter tornin pieces by La Corriveau. "Is this the handwriting of Angelique?" askedhe.
Bigot seized the scrap of paper, read it, turned it over and scrutinizedit, striving to find resemblances between the writing and that of everyone known to him. His scrutiny was in vain.
"This writing is not Angelique's," said he. "It is utterly unknown tome. It is a woman's hand, but certainly not the hand of any woman of myacquaintance, and I have letters and billets from almost every lady inQuebec. It is proof of a confederate, however, for listen, Cadet! Itarranges for an interview with Caroline, poor girl! It was thus she wasbetrayed to her death. It is torn, but enough remains to make the senseclear,--listen: 'At the arched door about midnight--if she pleased toadmit her she would learn important matters concerning herself--theIntendant and the Baron de St. Castin--speedily arrive in the Colony.'That throws light upon the mystery, Cadet! A woman was to have aninterview with Caroline at midnight! Good God, Cadet! not two hoursbefore we arrived! And we deferred starting in order that we might rookthe Signeur de Port Neuf! Too late! too late! Oh cursed word that everseals our fate when we propose a good deed!" and Bigot felt himself aman injured and neglected by Providence.
"'Important matters relating to herself,'" repeated Bigot, readingagain the scrap of writing. "'The Intendant and the Baron de St.Castin--speedily to arrive in the Colony.' No one knew but the swornCouncillors of the Governor that the Baron de St. Castin was coming outto the Colony. A woman has done the deed, and she has been informed ofsecrets spoken in Council by some Councillor present on that day at theCastle. Who was he? and who was she?" questioned Bigot, excitedly.
"The argument runs like water down hill, Bigot! but, par Dieu! I wouldnot have believed that New France contained two women of such mettle asthe one to contrive, the other to execute, a masterpiece of devilmentlike that!"
"Since we find another hand in the dish, it may not have been Angeliqueafter all," remarked Bigot. "It is hard to believe one so fair andfree-spoken guilty of so dark and damnable a crime." Bigot wouldevidently be glad to find himself in error touching his suspicions.
"Fairest without is often foulest within, Bigot," answered Cadet,doggedly. "Open speech in a woman is often an open trap to catch fools!Angelique des Meloises is free-spoken and open-handed enough to deceivea conclave of cardinals; but she has the lightest heels in the city.Would you not like to see her dance a ballet de triomphe on the broadflagstone I laid over the grave of that poor girl? If you would, youhave only to marry her, and she will give a ball in the secret chamber!"
"Be still, Cadet! I could take you by the throat for suggesting it! ButI will make her prove herself innocent!" exclaimed Bigot, angry at thecool persistence of Cadet.
"I hope you will not try it to-day, Bigot." Cadet spoke gravely now."Let the dead sleep, and let all sleeping dogs and bitches lie still.Zounds! we are in greater danger than she is! you cannot stir in thismatter without putting yourself in her power. Angelique has got hold ofthe secret of Caroline and of the Baron de St. Castin; what if she clearherself by accusing you? The King would put you in the Bastile for themagnificent lie you told the Governor, and La Pompadour would send youto the Place de Greve when the Baron de St. Castin returned with thebones of his daughter, dug up in your Chateau!"
"It is a cursed dilemma!" Bigot fairly writhed with perplexity. "Darkas the bottomless pit, turn which way we will. Angelique knows too much,that is clear; it were a charity, if it were a safe thing, to kill hertoo, Cadet!"
"Not to be thought of, Bigot; she is too much in every man's eye, andcannot be stowed away in a secret corner like her poor victim. A deadsilence on every point of this cursed business is our only policy, ouronly safety." Cadet had plenty of common sense in the rough, and Bigotwas able to appreciate it.
The Intendant strode up and down the room, clenching his hands in afury. "If I were sure! sure! she did it, I would kill her, by God! sucha damnable cruel deed as this would justify any measure of vengeance!"exclaimed he, savagely.
"Pshaw! not when it would all rebound upon yourself. Besides, if youwant vengeance, take a man's revenge upon a woman; you can do that!It will be better than killing her, much more pleasant, and quite aseffectual."
Bigot looked as Cadet said this and laughed: "You would send her to theParc aux cerfs, eh, Cadet? Par Dieu! she would sit on the throne in sixmonths!"
"No, I do not mean the Parc aux cerfs, but the Chateau of Beaumanoir.But you are in too ill humor to joke to-day, Bigot." Cadet resumed hispipe with an air of nonchalance.
"I never was in a worse humor in my life, Cadet! I feel that I have apadlock upon every one of my five senses; and I cannot move hand or footin this business."
"Right, Bigot, do not move hand or foot, eye or tongue,
in it. I tellyou the slightest whisper of Caroline's life or death in your house,reaching the ears of Philibert or La Corne St. Luc, will bring them toBeaumanoir with warrants to search for her. They will pick the Chateauto pieces stone by stone. They will drag Caroline out of her grave, andthe whole country will swear you murdered her, and that I helped you,and with appearances so strong against us that the mothers who bore uswould not believe in our innocence! Damn the women! The burying of thatgirl was the best deed I did for one of the sex in my life, but it willbe the worst if you breath one word of it to Angelique des Meloises, orto any other person living. I am not ready to lose my head yet, Bigot,for the sake of any woman, or even for you!"
The Intendant was staggered by the vehemence of Cadet, and impressed bythe force of his remarks. It was hard to sit down quietly and condonesuch a crime, but he saw clearly the danger of pushing inquiry inany direction without turning suspicion upon himself. He boiled withindignation. He fumed and swore worse than his wont when angry, butCadet looked on quietly, smoking his pipe, waiting for the storm to calmdown.
"You were never in a woman's clutches so tight before, Bigot," continuedCadet. "If you let La Pompadour suspect one hair of your head in thismatter, she will spin a cart-rope out of it that will drag you to thePlace de Greve."
"Reason tells me that what you say is true, Cadet," replied Bigot,gloomily.
"To be sure; but is not Angelique a clever witch to bind Francois Bigotneck and heels in that way, after fairly outwitting and running himdown?"
Cadet's cool comments drove Bigot beside himself. "I will not stand it;by St. Maur! she shall pay for all this! I, who have caught women all mylife, to be caught by one thus! she shall pay for it!"
"Well, make her pay for it by marrying her!" replied Cadet. "Par Dieu!I am mistaken if you have not got to marry her in the end! I would marryher myself, if you do not, only I should be afraid to sleep nights! Imight be put under the floor before morning if she liked another manbetter!"
Cadet gave way to a feeling of hilarity at this idea, shaking his sidesso long and heartily that Bigot caught the infection, and joined in witha burst of sardonic laughter.
Bigot's laughter was soon over. He sat down at the table again, and,being now calm, considered the whole matter over, point by point, withCadet, who, though coarse and unprincipled, was a shrewd counsellor indifficulties.
It was determined between the two men that nothing whatever should besaid of the assassination. Bigot should continue his gallantries toAngelique, and avoid all show of suspicion in that quarter. Heshould tell her of the disappearance of Caroline, who had gone awaymysteriously as she came, but profess absolute ignorance as to her fate.
Angelique would be equally cautious in alluding to the murder; she wouldpretend to accept all his statements as absolute fact. Her tongue, ifnot her thoughts, would be sealed up in perpetual silence on that bloodytopic. Bigot must feed her with hopes of marriage, and if necessary seta day for it, far enough off to cover all the time to be taken up in thesearch after Caroline.
"I will never marry her, Cadet!" exclaimed Bigot, "but will make herregret all her life she did not marry me!"
"Take care, Bigot! It is dangerous playing with fire. You don't halfknow Angelique."
"I mean she shall pull the chestnuts out of the fire for me with herpretty fingers, until she burn them," remarked Bigot, gruffly.
"I would not trust her too far! In all seriousness, you have but thechoice of two things, Bigot: marry her or send her to the Convent."
"I would not do the one, and I could not do the other, Cadet," wasBigot's prompt reply to this suggestion.
"Tut! Mere Migeon de la Nativite will respect your lettre de cachet,and provide a close, comfortable cell for this pretty penitent in theUrsulines," said Cadet.
"Not she! Mere Migeon gave me one of her parlor-lectures once, and Icare not for another. Egad, Cadet! she made me the nearest of beingashamed of Francois Bigot of any one I ever listened to! Could you haveseen her, with her veil thrown back, her pale face still paler withindignation, her black eyes looking still blacker beneath the whitefillet upon her forehead, and then her tongue, Cadet! Well, I withdrewmy proposal and felt myself rather cheapened in the presence of MereMigeon."
"Ay, I hear she is a clipper when she gets a sinner by the hair! Whatwas the proposal you made to her, Bigot?" asked Cadet, smiling as if heknew.
"Oh, it was not worth a livre to make such a row about! I only proposedto send a truant damsel to the Convent to repent of MY faults, that wasall! But I could never dispose of Angelique in that way," continued theIntendant, with a shrug.
"Egad! she will fool any man faster than he can make a fool of her! ButI would try Mere Migeon, notwithstanding," replied Cadet. "She is theonly one to break in this wild filly and nail her tongue fast to herprayers!"
"It is useless trying. They know Angelique too well. She would turnthe Convent out of the windows in the time of a neuvaine. They are allreally afraid of her," replied Bigot.
"Then you must marry her, or do worse, Bigot. I see nothing else forit," was Cadet's reply.
"Well, I will do worse, if worse can be; for marry her I will not!" saidBigot, stamping his foot upon the floor.
"It is understood, then, Bigot, not a word, a hint, a look is to begiven to Angelique regarding your suspicions of her complicity in thismurder?"
"Yes, it is understood. The secret is like the devil's tontine,--hecatches the last possessor of it."
"I expect to be the last, then, if I keep in your company, Bigot,"remarked Cadet.
Cadet having settled this point to his mind, reclined back in his easychair and smoked on in silence, while the Intendant kept walking thefloor anxiously, because he saw farther than his companion the shadowsof coming events.
Sometimes he stopped impatiently at the window, beating a tattoo withhis nails on the polished casement as he gazed out upon the beautifulparterres of autumnal flowers, beginning to shed their petals around thegardens of the Palace. He looked at them without seeing them. All thatcaught his eye was a bare rose-bush, from which he remembered he hadplucked some white roses which he had sent to Caroline to adorn heroratory; and he thought of her face, more pale and delicate than anyrose of Provence that ever bloomed. His thoughts ran violently in twoparallel streams side by side, neither of them disappearing for a momentamid the crowd of other affairs that pressed upon his attention,--themurder of Caroline and the perquisition that was to be made for her inall quarters of the Colony. His own safety was too deeply involved inany discovery that might be made respecting her to allow him to drop thesubject out of his thought for a moment.
By imposing absolute silence upon himself in the presence of Angelique,touching the death of Caroline, he might impose a like silence upon herwhom he could not acquit of the suspicion of having prompted the murder.But the certainty that there was a confederate in the deed--a woman,too, judging by the fragment of writing picked up by Cadet--tormentedhim with endless conjectures.
Still, he felt, for the present, secure from any discovery on that side;but how to escape from the sharp inquisition of two men like La CorneSt. Luc and Pierre Philibert? And who knew how far the secret ofBeaumanoir was a secret any longer? It was known to two women, at anyrate; and no woman, in Bigot's estimation of the sex, would long keep asecret which concerned another and not herself.
"Our greatest danger, Cadet, lies there!" continued the Intendant,stopping in his walk and turning suddenly to his friend. "La Corne St.Luc and Pierre Philibert are commissioned by the Governor to search forthat girl. They will not leave a stone unturned, a corner unransackedin New France. They will find out through the Hurons and my own servantsthat a woman has been concealed in Beaumanoir. They will suspect, ifthey do not discover who she was. They will not find her on earth,--theywill look for her under the earth. And, by St. Maur! it makes me quaketo think of it, Cadet, for the discovery will be utter ruin! They mayat last dig up her murdered remains in my own Chateau! As you said, theBastile and th
e Place de Greve would be my portion, and ruin yours andthat of all our associates."
Cadet held up his pipe as if appealing to Heaven. "It is a cursed rewardfor our charitable night's work, Bigot," said he. "Better you had neverlied about the girl. We could have brazened it out or fought it out withthe Baron de St. Castin or any man in France! That lie will convict usif found out!"
"Pshaw! the lie was a necessity," answered Bigot, impatiently. "But whocould have dreamed of its leading us such a dance as it has done! ParDieu! I have not often lied except to women, and such lies do notcount! But I had better have stuck to truth in this matter, Cadet. Iacknowledge that now."
"Especially with La Pompadour! She is a woman. It is dangerous to lie toher,--at least about other women."
"Well, Cadet, it is useless blessing the Pope or banning the Devil! Weare in for it, and we must meet La Corne St. Luc and Pierre Philibert aswarily as we can. I have been thinking of making safe ground for us tostand upon, as the trappers do on the great prairies, by kindling a firein front to escape from the fire in the rear!"
"What is that, Bigot? I could fire the Chateau rather than be trackedout by La Corne and Philibert," said Cadet, sitting upright in hischair.
"What, burn the Chateau!" answered Bigot. "You are mad, Cadet! No;but it were well to kindle such a smoke about the eyes of La Corne andPhilibert that they will need to rub them to ease their own pain insteadof looking for poor Caroline."
"How, Bigot? Will you challenge and fight them? That will not avertsuspicion, but increase it," remarked Cadet.
"Well, you will see! A man will need as many eyes as Argus to discoverour hands in this business."
Cadet started, without conjecturing what the Intendant contemplated."You will kill the bird that tells tales on us, Bigot,--is that it?"added he.
"I mean to kill two birds with one stone, Cadet! Hark you; I will tellyou a scheme that will put a stop to these perquisitions by La Corne andPhilibert--the only two men I fear in the Colony--and at the same timedeliver me from the everlasting bark and bite of the Golden Dog!"
Bigot led Cadet to the window, and poured in his ear the burningpassions which were fermenting in his own breast. He propounded a schemeof deliverance for himself and of crafty vengeance upon the Philibertswhich would turn the thoughts of every one away from the Chateau ofBeaumanoir and the missing Caroline into a new stream of public andprivate troubles, amid the confusion of which he would escape, and hispresent dangers be overlooked and forgotten in a great catastrophe thatmight upset the Colony, but at any rate it would free Bigot from hisembarrassments and perhaps inaugurate a new reign of public plunder andthe suppression of the whole party of the Honnetes Gens.