The Grey Cloak - Page 75/256

"You? Why, you will shortly find Madame de Brissac, marry her, and

become a fine country gentleman. And when Mazarin becomes forgetful or

dies, you will return to Paris, your head secure upon your shoulders.

As for me, New France, and a fresh quill, and I will be a man yet,"

smiling. "And I give you the contents of my rooms at the Candlestick."

"What! live among these ghosts of happy times? I could not!"

"Well, I will give them to Mignon, then. There is one who will miss

me. Will you call the major, or shall I?"

"I will call him, since you are determined."

"I shall take the grey cloak, too, lad. I will wear that token of

vanity into rags. Faith, I have not looked at it once since I loaned

it to you."

"And the unknown?"

"When we come to the end of a book, my poet, we lay it down. What

woman's love could surmount this birth of mine, these empty pockets? I

have still some reason; that bids me close the book. Yonder, from what

I have learned, they are in need of men's arms and brains, not

ancestry, noble birth. And there is some good blood in this arm,

however it may have come into the world." The Chevalier extended it

across the table and the veins swelled upon the wrist and hand. "Seek

the major, lad."

When the major entered the Chevalier stood up. "Monsieur," he said,

"pardon me for interrupting you, but is it true that to-morrow you sail

for Quebec?"

"The weather permitting," answered Du Puys, vaguely wondering why the

Chevalier wished to see him. His shrewd glance traveled from the

Chevalier to Victor, and he saw that they had been drinking.

"Thanks," said the Chevalier. "You are recruiting?"

"Yes, Monsieur. I have succeeded indifferently well."

"Is there room in your company for another recruit?"

"You have a friend who wishes to seek his fortune?" smiling grimly.

"I am speaking for myself. I wish to visit that country. Will you

accept my sword and services?"

"You, Monsieur?" dumfounded. "You, a common trooper in Quebec? You

are jesting!"

"Not at all. I shall never return to Paris."

"Monsieur le Comte . . ." began Du Puys.

The Chevalier raised his hand. "Not Monsieur le Comte; simply Monsieur

le Chevalier du Cévennes; Cévennes for the sake of brevity."

"Monsieur, then, pardon a frank soldier. The life at Quebec is not at

all suited to one who has been accustomed to the ease and luxury of

court. There is all the difference in the world between De Guitaut's

company in Paris and Du Puy's ragged band in Quebec. Certainly, a man

as rich as yourself . . ."

"I have not a denier in my pockets," said the Chevalier, with a short

laugh.