o!" said Cadet with owlish gravity.

Bigot started; drunk and reckless as he was, he did not like his secret
to be divulged. He was angry with Cadet for referring to it in the
presence of so many who knew not that a strange lady was residing at
Beaumanoir. He was too thoroughly a libertine of the period to feel any
moral compunction for any excess he committed. He was habitually more
ready to glory over his conquests, than to deny or extenuate them. But
in this case he had, to the surprise of Cadet, been very reticent, and
shy of speaking of this lady even to him.

"They say she is a miracle of beauty, Bigot!" continued Cadet, "and that
you are so jealous of the charms of your belle Gabrielle that you are
afraid to show her to your best friends."

"My belle Gabrielle is at liberty to go where she pleases, Cadet!" Bigot
saw the absurdity of anger, but he felt it, nevertheless. "She chooses
not to leave her bower, to look even on you, Cadet! I warrant you she
has not slept all night, listening to your infernal din."

"Then, I hope you will allow us to go and beg pardon on our knees for
disturbing her rest. What say the good company?"

"Agreed, agreed!" was the general response, and all pressed the
Intendant vociferously to allow them to see the fair mistress of
Beaumanoir.

Varin, however, proposed that she should be brought into the hall. "Send
her to us, O King," cried he; "we are nobles of Persia, and this is
Shushan the palace, where we carouse according to the law of the Medes,
seven days at a stretch. Let the King bring in Queen Vashti, to show her
beauty to the princes and nobles of his court!"

Bigot, too full of wine to weigh scruples, yielded to the wish of his
boon companions. He rose from his chair, which in his absence was taken
by Cadet. "Mind!" said he, "if I bring her in, you shall show her every
respect."

"We will kiss the dust of her feet," answered Cadet, "and consider you
the greatest king of a feast in New France or Old."

Bigot, without further parley, passed out of the hall, traversed a long
corridor and entered an anteroom, where he found Dame Tremblay, the old
housekeeper, dozing on her chair. He roused her up, and bade her go to
the inner chamber to summon her mistress.

The housekeeper rose in a moment at the voice of the Intendant. She was
a comely dame, with a ruddy cheek, and an eye in her head that looked
inquisitively at her master as she arranged her cap and threw back her
rat