The Grey Cloak - Page 135/256

"Monsieur le Comte?" bewildered.

"Yes; you should not have run away with him as you did."

"Had I told you, you would have prevented my coming," Breton confessed.

"You would have saved Monsieur le Marquis and myself a great deal of

trouble."

"But Monsieur le Chevalier was in trouble, too. I could not leave him."

"Which speaks well for your heart, lad, but not for your reason. Where

is Monsieur le Comte?"

"At Three Rivers; a day and a night's ride from here, with good

paddlers."

"Good. We shall start out in the morning."

"To bring him back to France?"

"Nothing less, lad. The count has been greatly wronged by Monsieur le

Marquis, and it is to be set to rights forthwith. Can you read?"

"Yes."

"Here is a letter which Monsieur le Curé wrote at Périgny. It was from

old Martin's daughter."

"God bless you, Monsieur," cried the happy Breton. He would have

shouted for joy had not the quiet dignity of the old lackey put a

damper on his enthusiasm.

"Monsieur le Comte was well when last you saw him?"

"Yes; physically."

"He is troubled?"

"Who would not be?" burst forth Breton, indignantly. "But why do you

call Monsieur le Chevalier the count?"

"Is not that his title?" quietly.

"But . . ."

"Would Monsieur le Marquis take all this trouble if Monsieur le

Chevalier was anything but Monsieur le Comte?"

"I shall offer a dozen candles!" cried Breton, joyously.

Meantime the governor conducted the marquis around the fortress and the

château; and together they stood upon the highest balcony and looked

down upon the river, which was dotted with canoes and small boats.

"Magnificent!" repeated the marquis time and again.

"And not even in the Cévennes, Monsieur, will you see such sunsets,"

said De Lauson.

"This should not be managed by speculators," unconsciously pricking the

governor's quick, "nor by the priest's cold hand. It should be wholly

the king's. It would be France's salvation. What are they doing there

in Paris?"

"Spending money on lace for the Swiss and giving masks at the Palais

Royal."

"Richelieu died too soon; here would have been his fame." The marquis

never underestimated an enemy. "If your Excellency will excuse me now,

I will sleep. I am an old man, and sleep calls to me often. I will

join you at supper."

"The ladies will be delighted. There is but little here of the life of

the court. When we are not guarding against Indians, we are

celebrating religious fêtes."

"Till supper, then, your Excellency."

And the governor departed to read the messages from the queen. She had

placed all Quebec at the disposal of the marquis in the search for his

son. The governor was greatly mystified. That the marquis should

still call the Chevalier by his former title of count added to this

mystery. Since when did fathers set out for sons of the left hand? He

soon gave up the riddle, confident that the marquis himself would solve

it for him.