The Grey Cloak

  CHAPTER XV

  THE SUPPER

  "Monsieur du Cevennes," said D'Herouville, just before supper thatfirst night of their arrival on Canadian soil, "I see that you are notquite strong enough to keep the engagement. This day two weeks: willthat be agreeable?"

  "It will; though I should be better pleased to fix the scene forto-morrow morning."

  D'Herouville raised a deprecating hand. "I should not like to have itsaid that I took advantage of a man's weakness. Of course, if you wishabsolutely to force it . . ."

  The Chevalier looked thoughtfully at his pale hands. "I shall takeadvantage of your courtesy, Monsieur le Comte."

  "How polite men are when about to cut each other's throats!" TheVicomte d'Halluys adjusted his baldric and entered the greatdining-hall of the Chateau Saint Louis.

  He and D'Herouville sat side by side.

  "Vicomte, you have never told me why the Chevalier is here. Why shouldhe leave France, he, who possessed a fortune, who had Mazarin's favor,and who had all the ladies at his feet?"

  "Ask him when you meet him," answered the vicomte, testing thegovernor's burgundy.

  "And will you pay me those ten thousand livres which you wageredagainst my claims for madame's hand?"

  The vicomte took a sip of the wine. There was no verbal answer, buthis eyes spoke.

  "Quebec promises to afford a variety," commented d'Herouville, glancingto where the Chevalier sat.

  "It is quite probable," affably returned the vicomte. "This is goodwine for a wilderness like this. To be sure, it comes from France; Ihad forgotten."

  The first fortnight passed with the excitement attendant to taking upquarters in a strange land. The Chevalier, Victor and the vicomte weregiven rooms in the citadel; D'Herouville accepted the courtesy of thegovernor and became a resident of the chateau; father Chaumonot, Majordu Puys, and his selected recruits, had already made off for Onondaga.A word from Father Chaumonot into the governor's ear promoted theChevalier to a lieutenancy in lieu of Nicot's absence in Onondaga.Everything began very well.

  Seldom a day went by without a skirmish with the Iroquois, who hadgrown impudent and fearless again. The Iroquois were determined todestroy their ancient enemies, the Hurons, primarily because they hatedthem, and secondarily because they were allies of the French. Francedid what she could in reason to stop these depredations, but the taskneeded an iron gauntlet, and De Lauson was a civilian. At this periodthe Mohawks were the fiercest, the Onondagas having agreed to atemporary treaty. Marauders were brought in and punished, but usuallythe punishment was trivial compared to the offense. The governorwished to rule by kindness; but his lieutenants knew the Indianthoroughly. He must not be treated with kindness where justice wasmerited; it gave him the idea that the white man was afraid.Therefore, his depredations should be met with a vengeance swift andfinal and convincing. But nine times out of ten De Lauson and thepriests overruled the soldiers; and the depredations continuedunabated. Once, however, the Chevalier succeeded in having severalgibbets erected on the island of Orleans, and upon these gibbets hestrung half a dozen redskins who had murdered a family of peacefulHurons.

  Though he went about somberly, untalkative and morose, the Chevalierproved himself a capital soldier, readily adapting himself to theprivations of scouting and the loneliness of long watches in the night.He studied his Indian as one who intended to take up his abode amongthem for many years to come. He discarded the uniform for the deerskinof the trapper. But the Chevalier made no friends among theinhabitants; and when not on duty he was seen only in the company ofVictor, the vicomte and Brother Jacques, who was assisting him inlearning the Indian languages. Brown he grew, lithe and active as theenemy he watched and studied. Never a complaint fell from his lips; heaccepted without question the most hazardous duty.

  "Keep your eye upon Monsieur le Chevalier," said De Lauson; "for hewill count largely before the year is gone."

  As for Victor, he was more or less indifferent. He was perfectlywilling to fight the Indian, but his gorge rose at the thought ofstudying him as an individual. As a rule he found them to be unclean,vulgar and evil-minded; and the hideous paints disturbed his dreams.Secretly, his enthusiasm for New France had already waned, and therewere times when he longed for the road to Spain--Spain which by nowheld for him the dearest treasure in all the world. But not even thekeen-eyed Brother Jacques read this beneath the poet's buoyancy andlightness of spirit. Besides, Brother Jacques had set himself to watchthe Comte d'Herouville and the Vicomte d'Halluys, and this was far moreimportant to him than the condition of the poet's temperament.

  D'Herouville mingled with the great seigneurs, and, backed by hisreputation as a famous swordsman, did about as he pleased. He watchedthe Chevalier's progress toward health; and he noted with some concernhis enemy's quick, springy step, the clear and steady eye. He stillignored the poet as completely as though he did not exist.

  Every Friday night the table was given up to the governor's gentlemencouncillors, friends, and officers. Victor and the Chevalier were onthis list, as were the vicomte and D'Herouville. Usually these wereenjoyable evenings. Victor became famous as a raconteur, and theChevalier lost some of his taciturnity in this friendly intercourse.D'Herouville's conduct was irreproachable in every sense.

  One day the Chevalier entered one of the school-rooms. In his arms heheld a small white child which had sprained its weak ankle whileplaying on the lumber pile outside the convent of the Ursulines.Sister Benie was quick to note how tenderly he held the sobbing child.

  "Give him to me, Monsieur," she said, her velvet eyes moist with pity.

  The Chevalier placed the little boy in her arms, and he experienced astrange thrill as he noticed the manner in which she wrapt the boy toher heart. How often Breton's mother, his nurse, had taken him to herbreast that way! And he stood there marveling over that beautifulmystery which God had created, for the wonder of man, the woman and thechild.

  "I chanced to be passing and heard his cry," he said, diffidently.

  "Playing the good Samaritan?" asked a voice from the window. TheSister and the Chevalier looked around and saw the vicomte leaning onthe window-sill. "Why was it not my happiness to tarry by thatlumber-pile. I saw the lad.'"

  "Ah, it is you, Vicomte?" said the Chevalier, pleasantly.

  "Yes, Chevalier. Will you walk with me?"

  Being without excuse, the Chevalier joined him, and together theyproceeded toward the quarters.

  Sister Benie stared after them till they had disappeared around thecorner of the building.

  "Chevalier," said the vicomte, "do you remember Henri de Leviston?"

  "De Leviston?" The Chevalier frowned. "Yes; I recollect him. Why?"

  "He is here."

  "In Quebec?"

  "Yes. He came in this morning from Montreal, where he is connectedwith the Associates. Was he not in your company three or four yearsago? He was dismissed, so I heard, for prying into De Guitaut'sprivate despatches."

  "I remember the incident. I was the one who denounced him. It was adisagreeable duty, but De Guitaut had put me on De Leviston's tracks.It was unavoidable."

  "You had best beware of him."

  "I am perfectly in health, thank you," replied the Chevalier.

  The vicomte covertly ran his eye over his companion. It was not to bedenied that the Chevalier had gained wonderfully in the fortnight. Theair, the constant labor, and the natural medicine which he inhaled inthe forests, had given a nervous springiness to his step and hadcleared his eyes till the whites were like china. No; the Chevalierneed have no fear of De Leviston, was the vicomte's mental comment.

  "Well, you do look proper. The wine is all out of your system, andthere is balsam in your blood. A wonderful country!" The vicomtestopped before his door.

  "Yes, it is a wonderful country. It is not France; it is better thanthe mother country. Ambition has a finer aim; charity is withoutspeculation; and a man must be a man here, else he can not e
xist."

  "That is an illusion," replied the vicomte. "Only the women have whatyou call a finer ambition. The men are puling as in France. TheCompany seeks riches without working; the military seek batons withoutwar; and these Jesuits . . . Bah! What are they trying to do? Torule the pope, and through him, the world. My faith, I can barely keepfrom laughing at some of the stories these priests tell all in goodfaith."

  "My thought did not include the great," said the Chevalier, quietly."I meant the lower orders. They will eventually become men and womenin the highest sense. There is no time for dalliance and play; laboris the monitor best suited to hold back, to trim and regulate a man'smorals and habits. There is no idleness here, Vicomte."

  "I do not know but you are right."

  "Shall you remain here long?" asked the Chevalier.

  "Who can say? I would return to France on the next boat were my neckless delicately attached to my shoulders. Let us say six months; itwill have quieted down by then. Devil take me, but I should like tofeel that paper crackling between my fingers. And you meetD'Herouville in two days?"

  "In two days."

  "Will you not join me in a glass of the governor's old burgundy as atoast to your success?"

  "Thank you, but I am on duty. They are bringing some Mohawks up fromthe lower town, and I am to take charge of them."

  "Good luck to you;" and the vicomte waved a friendly hand as he startedoff toward the citadel.

  The Chevalier with a dozen men started for the lower town. But hismind was not on his duty. He was thinking of Diane, her gay laughter,her rollicking songs, the old days.

  "Monsieur, are we to go to Sillery?" asked a trooper, respectfully.

  "Sillery?" The Chevalier shook himself, and took the right path.

  The Chevalier and Victor sat on their narrow cots that night. BrotherJacques had just gone. The windows were open, and the balmy air ofsummer drifted in, carrying with it forest odors and the freshness ofthe rising dew. Fireflies sparkled in the grass, and the pale stars ofearly evening pierced the delicate green of the heavens. A singlecandle flickered on the table, and the candlestick was an emptyburgundy bottle. The call of one sentry to another broke the solemnquiet.

  "And you have not grown sick for home since you left the sea?" askedthe Chevalier.

  "Not I!" There were times when Victor could lie cheerfully and withoutthe prick of conscience. "One hasn't time to think of home. But howare you getting on with your Iroquois?"

  "Fairly."

  "You are determined to meet D'Herouville?"

  The Chevalier extended his right arm, allowing Victor to press it withhis fingers. Victor whistled softly. The arm, while thin, was like astaff of oak. Presently the same arm reached out and snuffed thecandle.

  "Shall you ever go back to France, Paul?"

  A sigh from the other side of the room.

  "I saw the vicomte talking to De Leviston to-day. De Leviston wasscowling. They separated when I approached."

  "Will you have the goodness to go to sleep?"

  "What the devil brings De Leviston so high on this side the water?"

  Silence.

  "I never liked his sneaking face."

  A sentry called, another, and still another.

  "Are you there, Paul?"

  No answer.

  "You're as surly as a papoose!"

  Soon after that there was nothing to be heard but the deep and regularbreathing of two healthy men resting in sleep.

  Some fourteen gentlemen sat around the governor's table the thirdFriday night. There were the governor and his civic staff and hisofficers, three or four merchants, and two priests, Brother Jacques andDollier de Casson, that brother to Rabelais, with his Jove-like smileand his Herculean proportions. De Casson had arrived that day fromThree Rivers, and he had come for aid.

  Two chairs were vacant, and presently the vicomte filled one of them.The other was reserved for the Chevalier.

  Victor was telling some amusing tales of the court; how Beaufort wasalways blundering, how Mazarin was always saving, how Louis was alwaysmaking love, and how the queen was always praying.

  "Ah, Monsieur de Saumaise," said the governor, "you must not tell jestsat the expense of their Majesties; Mazarin I do not mind, for he iscertainly niggard with funds and with men."

  "How that handsome young king of ours will spend money when a new primeminister is needed!" was the vicomte's comment, his gaze falling on theChevalier's empty chair. "Do you remember how Mazarin took awayScarron's pension? Scarron asked that it be renewed; and Mazarinrefused, bidding the wit to be of good cheer. Scarron replied,'Monseigneur, I should indeed be in good cheer were I not positive thatI shall not outlive your parsimony.'"

  When the Chevalier finally came in he was cordially greeted by thegovernor. He took his chair, filled his glass and lit his pipe. Hewaved aside all food, stating that he had eaten his supper in the lowertown.

  No sooner had he lighted his pipe than De Leviston rose, shoving backhis chair noisily. A cold, sneering contempt marked his swart face.

  "What is the matter, Monsieur de Leviston?" asked the governor, mildly.

  "Your Excellency will pardon me," said De Leviston; "but I find, itimpossible to sit at this table till another person leaves it."

  Surprise and consternation lay written on every face. The Chevalierlowered his pipe, and looked from one face to another. He was so tiredwith the labor of the day, that he had forgotten all about himself andhis history.

  The governor sat rigid in his chair. Victor's hand rested on thetable; he was ready to rise and meet the blow he knew was coming.

  "Explain yourself," said the governor, coldly. "You impugn the conductor honor of some gentleman at my table? Take care, Monsieur."

  "It is my regret."

  "Who is this person who has aroused your displeasure, and what has hedone that he may not sit in the presence of gentlemen?"

  Victor rose, white and trembling.

  "Sit down, Monsieur de Saumaise," commanded the governor, sternly.

  "He calls himself the Chevalier du Cevennes." De Leviston smiled.

  Every eye was leveled at the Chevalier. Victor felt his heartswelling. It had come at last! Brother Jacques leaned forward,peering into every face. D'Herouville's face was expressive of deepsurprise, and the vicomte was staring at De Leviston as if he believedthat gentleman to be mad.

  "Calls himself the Chevalier du Cevennes?" thundered the governor."Calls himself? This demands an immediate explanation from you,Monsieur de Leviston."

  "I object to sit at a table with a person who does not know who hismother was." Each word was deliberately and carefully measured.

  "Death of my life!" roared the governor, upon his feet.

  The Chevalier reached over and caught De Lauson's sleeve. "Hush,Monsieur; what Monsieur de Leviston says is . . . true." He got up,white as the broken pipe that lay at the side of his plate. Under thechair was his hat. He reached for it. Looking neither to the rightnor to the left, he walked quietly and with dignity from the room.

  There was a single laugh, rude and loud. It came from D'Herouville.

  The general silence which followed lasted several minutes. TheChevalier's declaration had stunned them. The governor was first torecover. He rose again, quietly, though his eyes sparkled with anger.

  "Monsieur de Leviston," he said, "you have wilfully broken anddestroyed the peace and dignity of my household. I shall cross youfrom my list, and the sooner you return to Montreal, the better. Yourpeculiar sense of honor in no wise appeals to me. It is an ignoblerevenge; for do not doubt that I know your own history, Monsieur, andalso the part the Chevalier had in it. But believing you had come tothis country to repair your honor, I have assisted you by inviting youto partake of my bounty and of my friendship."

  De Leviston paled, and turned a scowling face to those about him. Hefound no sympathy in any eye, not even in D'Herouville's.

  "You have wounded brutall
y and with intent," went on the governor, "theheart of a man who has not only proved himself a gentleman, but a hero.And I add this: Let no one repeat what has happened, or he shall feelthe weight of my displeasure, and my displeasure will mean much topromotion and liberty." He pushed his chair under the table, whichsignified that he was to retire.

  The gentlemen left the table with him.

  Outside, Victor approached D'Herouville, ignoring De Leviston. Thevicomte followed in the rear.

  "Monsieur d'Herouville, you have a bad heart," said the poet. "Youhave laughed insolently at a man whose misfortune is none of his ownmaking. You are a poltroon and a coward!"

  The vicomte interposed. "D'Herouville, listen to me. After what hashappened you will refuse to meet the Chevalier."

  "I certainly shall."

  "I am at your service," said the vicomte.

  "D'Halluys," cried the poet, "you have no right to interfere."

  "Stand aside, Monsieur de Saumaise." The vicomte pressed the poet back.

  "Vicomte," said D'Herouville, "I will not fight you to-night."

  "I am certain. Here is a phrase which leaves no misunderstanding." Thevicomte slapped D'Herouville in the face.

  "Damnation!" D'Herouville fell back.

  Victor turned to De Leviston. "I will waive the question ofgentleman," and he struck De Leviston even as the vicomte had struckD'Herouville.

  "Curse you, I will accompany you!" roared De Leviston.

  "Very good," returned the poet. "Vicomte, there is a fine place backof the Ursulines. Let us go there."

  When Victor entered, his room that night, an hour later, it was dark.He groped for the candle and stoked the flint. As soon as his eyesgrew accustomed to the glare of the light, he looked about, and hisshadow wavered on the plastered walls. The Chevalier lay on his cot,his face buried in his arms. Victor touched him and he stirred.

  "It is all right, Paul." Victor threw his sword and baldric into acorner and sat down beside his stricken friend, throwing an arm aroundhis shoulders. "I have just this moment run De Leviston through theshoulder. That vicomte is a cool hand. He put his blade nicelybetween D'Herouville's ribs. They will both remain in hospital for twoor three weeks. It was a good fight."