welling with importance and good humor,
easy, graceful, jesting with men and women, wishing the world well,
knowing that he could milk from the royal treasury the money he was
spending tonight, and troubled by no twinges of conscience. Cadet
hovered near his powerful partner and Pean, Maurin, Penisseault and
Corpron were not far away. Robert looked with interest at the ballroom
which was decorated gorgeously. The balcony was filled already with
spectators who would watch the lords and ladies dance. There was no
restraint. No Father Drouillard was present to give rebuke and all the
_honnetes gens_ were absent, unless a few young officers like de
Galisonniere, who sympathized with them, be excepted.

They began to dance to light, tripping music, and to Robert all the
women seemed beautiful and graceful now, and all the men gay and
gallant. He could dance the latest dances himself, and meant to do so
soon, but for the present he would wait, standing by the wall and
looking on. Willet came to him, and evidently intended to whisper
something, but de Courcelles, by the youth's side, intervened
laughingly.

"No secrets, Mr. Willet," he said. "No grave and serious matters can be
discussed at the Intendant's ball. It is one of our rules that when we
work we work and when we play we play. It is a useful lesson which you
Bostonnais should learn."

Then Jumonville came and began to talk to the hunter in such direct
fashion that he was compelled to respond, and presently he was drawn
away, leaving Robert with de Courcelles.

"You at least dance, do you not?" asked de Courcelles.

"Yes," replied Robert, "I learned it at Albany."

"Shall I get you a partner?"

"In a little while, if you will be so good, Colonel de Courcelles, but
just now I'd rather see the others dancing. A most brilliant assemblage.
I never beheld its like before."

"Brilliant for Quebec," said a voice at his elbow, "but you should go to
Paris, the very heart and center of the world, to see great pleasure and
great splendor in the happiest combination."

It was the grim and freckle-faced Boucher, and again Robert detected
that challenging under note in his voice. In spite of himself his blood
grew hot.

"I don't know much about Paris," he said. "I've never been there,
although I hope to go some day, but Quebec affords both pleasure and
splendor in high degree tonight."

"You don't mean to say that Quebec, much as we French have labored to
build it up