The Grey Cloak - Page 119/256

"It was paper," said the count impatiently. What was this man

D'Halluys driving at?

"Well, as I said;" and the vicomte twisted the ends of his mustache and

gnawed it between his teeth. "There is a ghost upon this ship. There

was nothing in that pocket, not even a piece of paper as large as your

thumb-nail."

"You lie!" roughly.

Their faces came close together.

"If Monsieur le Chevalier leaves enough of you, Monsieur," said the

vicomte. His tone was gentle. "When I gave you my word it was given

honestly, without reservation. There were no papers in that cloak.

Some one has gone before us, or rather, some one has gone before me.

You spoke of papers: what gave you to believe there was more than one?

Monsieur, is not the lie on your side? Have you not had access to the

Chevalier's room? You say that I lie; is not your own tongue crooked?

Besides, let us not forget the poet, who, while he may be unaware of

the commercial value of that paper, has no less an interest in it. You

have given me the lie: go about your affairs as you please, and I shall

do likewise. When we land, if the Chevalier does not kill you, I will."

"Why?"

"You tell me that I lie."

"Bah! Monsieur, under all circumstances there would be cause for war

between us. Do you not love Madame de Brissac? Heigho! she has given

the motley to us all. Are we not fine fools? It is droll. Well, I

will write the Chevalier's discharge, and you shall go out by the same

order. We are all cats in the bags, and some of us are likely to be

scratched."

"It will be an exciting day, no doubt;" and the vicomte turned on his

heel.

"There was nothing in the pockets of the cloak," said Victor, a while

later.

On the second day of June the Saint Laurent dropped anchor before

Quebec. The voyage had come to an end, and a prosperous voyage,

indeed. There had been only one death at sea; they had encountered

neither the Spaniard nor the outlaw; the menace of ice they had slipped

past. What a welcome was roared to them from Fort Louis, from the

cannon and batteries, high up on the cliffs! The echoes rolled across

the river and were lost in the mighty forests beyond. Again and again

came the flash, and the boom. It was wondrous to see the fire and

smoke so far above one's head. Flags fluttered in the sunshine; all

labor was stopped, and the great storehouses were closed for the

remainder of the day. Canoes filled with peaceful Hurons sallied

forth, and the wharves were almost blotted out of sight with crowding

humanity.

Many notable faces could be identified here and there among the

pressing throng on the wharves. Some were there to meet friends or

relatives; some wanted the news from France; some came for mail to be

delivered to the various points along the river. Prominent among them

was Governor Lauson, a grey-haired, kindly civilian, who, though a

shrewd speculator, was by no means the man to be at the head of the

government in Canada. He was pulled this way and that, first by the

Company, then by the priests, then by the seigneurs. Depredations by

the Indians remained unpunished; and the fear of the great white father

grew less and less. Surrounding Monsieur de Lauson was his staff and

councillors, and the veterans Du Puys had left behind while in France.

There were names which in their time were synonyms for courage and

piety. The great Jesuits were absent in the south, in Onondaga, where

they had erected a mission: Father Superior le Mercier, and Fathers

Dablon and Le Moyne.