The Grey Cloak - Page 93/256

There was something irresistible in his pleading; and the Chevalier

felt the need of some one on whom to spend his brimming heart of love.

His face showed that he was weighing the matter and viewing it from all

points. Presently the severe lines of his face softened.

"Very well, we shall go together, my poet," throwing an arm across

Victor's shoulders. "We shall go together, as we have always gone.

And, after all, what is a name but sounding brass? 'Tis a man's arm

that makes or unmakes his honesty, not his thrift; his loyalty, rather

than his self-interest. We shall go together. Come; we'll sign the

major's papers, and have done with it."

Victor threw his hat into the air.

"And I, Monsieur Paul?" said Breton, trembling in his shoes, with

expectancy or fear.

"If they will let you go, lad," kindly; and Breton fell upon his knees

and kissed the Chevalier's hand.

The articles which made them soldiers, obedient first to the will of

the king and second to the will of the Company of the Hundred

Associates, were duly signed. Breton was permitted to accompany his

master with the understanding that he was to entail no extra expense.

Father Chaumonot was delighted; Brother Jacques was thoughtful; the

major was neutral and incurious. As yet no rumor stirred its ugly

head; the Chevalier's reasons for going were still a matter of

conjecture. None had the courage to approach the somber young man and

question him. The recruits and broken gentlemen had troubles of

sufficient strength to be unmindful of the interest in the Chevalier's.

The officers from Fort Louis bowed politely to the Chevalier, but came

not near enough to speak. Excessive delicacy, or embarrassment, or

whatever it was, the Chevalier appreciated it. As for the civilians

who had enjoyed the hospitality of the Hôtel de Périgny, they remained

unobserved on the outskirts of the crowd. The vicomte expressed little

or no surprise to learn that Victor had signed. He simply smiled; for

if others were mystified as to the poet's conduct, he was not. Often

his glance roved toward the stairs; but there were no petticoats going

up or coming down.

"Monsieur le Vicomte," said Brother Jacques, whose curiosity was eating

deeply, "will you not explain to me the cause of the Chevalier's

extraordinary conduct?"

"Ah, my little Jesuit!" said the vicomte; "so you are still burning

with curiosity? Well, I promise to tell you all about it the first

time I confess to you."

"Monsieur, have you any reason for insulting me?" asked Brother

Jacques, coldly, his pale cheeks aflame.

"Good! there is blood in you, then?" laughed the vicomte, noting the

color.

"Red and healthy, Monsieur," in a peculiar tone. Brother Jacques was

within an inch of being as tall and broad as the vicomte.