64
“Ay, there were reasons for his selection. The company departs at dawn. Tell him, Monsieur, that I await him now for final interview.”
I watched Delguard salute, and turn away to execute his order. La Barre drew a paper from a drawer of the desk, and bent over it pen in hand. My eyes lifted to the face of De Artigny, standing motionless behind me in the deeper shadow.
“You overheard, Monsieur?” I whispered.
He leaned closer, his lips at my ear, his eyes dark with eagerness.
“Every word, Mademoiselle! Fear not, I shall yet learn the truth from this Cassion. You suspected?”
I shook my head, uncertain.
“My father died in that faith, Monsieur, but Chevet called me a beggar.”
“Chevet! no doubt he knows all, and has a dirty hand in the mess. He called you beggar, hey!––hush, the fellow comes.”
He was a picture of insolent servility, as he stood there bowing, his gay dress fluttering with ribbons, his face smiling, yet utterly expressionless. La Barre lifted his eyes, and surveyed him coldly.
“You sent for me, sir?”
“Yes, although I scarcely thought at this hour you would appear in the apparel of a dandy. I have chosen you for serious work, Monsieur, and the time 65 is near for your departure. Surely my orders were sufficiently clear?”
“They were, Governor la Barre,” and Cassion’s lips lost their grin, “and my delay in changing dress has occurred through the strange disappearance of Mademoiselle la Chesnayne. I left her with Major Callons while I danced with my lady, and have since found no trace of the maid.”
“Does not Callons know?”
“Only that, seeking refreshments, he left her, and found her gone on his return. Her wraps are in the dressing room.”
“Then ’tis not like she has fled the palace. No doubt she awaits you in some corner. I will have the servants look, and meanwhile pay heed to me. This is a mission of more import than love-making with a maid, Monsieur Cassion, and its success, or failure, will determine your future. You have my letter of instruction?”
“It has been carefully read.”
“And the sealed orders for Chevalier de Baugis?”
“Here, protected in oiled silk.”
“See that they reach him, and no one else; they give him an authority I could not grant before, and should end La Salle’s control of that country. You have met this Henri de Tonty? He was here with his master three years since, and had audience.”
66
“Ay, but that was before my time. Is he one to resist De Baugis?”
“He impressed me as a man who would obey to the letter, Monsieur; a dark-faced soldier, with an iron jaw. He had lost one arm in battle, and was loyal to his chief.”
“So I have heard––a stronger man than De Baugis?”
“A more resolute; all depends on what orders La Salle left, and the number of men the two command.”
“In that respect the difference is not great. De Baugis had but a handful of soldiers to take from Mackinac, although his voyageurs may be depended upon to obey his will. His instructions were not to employ force.”
“And the garrison of St. Louis?”
“’Tis hard to tell, as there are fur hunters there of whom we have no record. La Salle’s report would make his own command eighteen, but they are well chosen, and he hath lieutenants not so far away as to be forgotten. La Forest would strike at a word, and De la Durantaye is at the Chicago portage, and no friend of mine. ’Tis of importance, therefore, that your voyage be swiftly completed, and my orders placed in De Baugis’ hands. Are all things ready for departure?”
“Ay, the boats only await my coming.”
67
The Governor leaned his head on his hand, crumbling the paper between his fingers.
“This young fellow––De Artigny,” he said thoughtfully, “you have some special reason for keeping him in your company?”
Cassion crossed the room, his face suddenly darkening.
“Ay, now I have,” he explained shortly, “although I first engaged his services merely for what I deemed to be their value. He spoke me most fairly.”
“But since?”
“I have cause to suspect. Chevet tells me that today he had conference with Mademoiselle at the House of the Ursulines.”
“Ah, ’twas for that then you had his ticket revoked. I see where the shoe pinches. ’Twill be safer with him in the boats than back here in Quebec. Then I give permission, and wash my hands of the whole affair––but beware of him, Cassion.”
“I may be trusted, sir.”
“I question that no longer.” He hesitated slightly, then added in lower tone: “If accident occur the report may be briefly made. I think that will be all.”
Both men were upon their feet, and La Barre extended his hand across the desk. I do not know what movement may have caused it, but at that moment, a wooden ring holding the curtain fell, and 68 struck the floor at my feet. Obeying the first impulse I thrust De Artigny back behind me into the shadow, and held aside the drapery. Both men, turning, startled at the sound, beheld me clearly, and stared in amazement. Cassion took a step forward, an exclamation of surprise breaking from his lips.
“Adele! Mademoiselle!”
I stepped more fully into the light, permitting the curtain to fall behind me, and my eyes swept their faces.
“Yes, Monsieur––you were seeking me?”
“For an hour past; for what reason did you leave the ballroom?”
With no purpose in my mind but to gain time in which to collect my thought and protect De Artigny from discovery, I made answer, assuming a carelessness of demeanor which I was far from feeling.
“Has it been so long, Monsieur?” I returned in apparent surprise. “Why I merely sought a breath of fresh air, and became interested in the scene without.”
La Barre stood motionless, just as he had risen to his feet at the first alarm, his eyes on my face, his heavy eyebrows contracted in a frown.
“I will question the young lady, Cassion,” he said sternly, “for I have interests here of my own. Mademoiselle!”
69
“Yes, Monsieur.”
“How long have you been behind that curtain?”
“Monsieur Cassion claims to have sought me for an hour.”
“Enough of that,” his voice grown harsh, and threatening. “You address the Governor; answer me direct.”
I lifted my eyes to his stern face, but they instantly fell before the encounter of his fierce gaze.
“I do not know, Monsieur.”
“Who was here when you came in?”
“No one, Monsieur; the room was empty.”
“Then you hid there, and overheard the conversation between Colonel Delguard and myself?”
“Yes, Monsieur,” I confessed, feeling my limbs tremble.
“And also all that has passed since Monsieur Cassion entered?”
“Yes,