dy of her
impulse, "a gallant man. But come, the Mother would have you visit
her."

CHAPTER IV

IN THE PALACE OF THE INTENDANT

The huge palace of the Intendant, between the bluff and the river, was
ablaze with lights, and already crowded with guests at our arrival. I
had seen nothing of Chevet since the morning, nor did he appear now;
but Monsieur Cassion was prompt enough, and congratulated me on my
appearance with bows, and words of praise which made me flush with
embarrassment. Yet I knew myself that I looked well in the new gown,
simple enough to be sure, yet prettily draped, for Sister Celeste had
helped me, and 'twas whispered she had seen fine things in Europe
before she donned the sober habit of a nun. She loved yet to dress
another, and her swift touches to my hair had worked a miracle. I read
admiration in Cassion's eyes, as I came forward from the shadows to
greet him, and was not unhappy to know he recognized my beauty, and
was moved by it. Yet it was not of him I thought, but Rene de
Artigny.

There was a chair without, and bearers, while two soldiers of the
Regiment of Picardy, held torches to light the way, and open passage.
Cassion walked beside me, his tongue never still, yet I was too
greatly interested in the scene to care what he was saying, although I
knew it to be mostly compliment. It was a steep descent, the stones of
the roadway wet and glistening from a recent shower, and the ceaseless
stream of people, mostly denizens of Quebec, peered at us curiously as
we made slow progress. Great bonfires glowed from every high point of
the cliff, their red glare supplementing our torches, and bringing out
passing faces in odd distinctness.

A spirit of carnival seemed to possess the crowd, and more than once
bits of green, and handfuls of sweets were tossed into my lap; while
laughter, and gay badinage greeted us from every side. Cassion took
this rather grimly, and gave stern word to the soldier escort, but I
found it all diverting enough, and had hard work to retain my dignity,
and not join in the merriment. It was darker at the foot of the hill,
yet the crowd did not diminish, although they stood in ankle deep mud,
and seemed less vivacious. Now and then I heard some voice name
Cassion as we passed, recognizing his face in the torch glow, but
there was no sign that he was popular. Once a man called out something
which caused him to stop, hand on sword, but he fronted so many faces
that