ry earnest,--"and I will not anticipate any mischief to mar my
happiness. Pshaw! It is only the reaction of over-excited feelings. I am
weak in the strength of my joy."

"The still, small voice speaks to us in that way, master, to remind us
to place our trust in Heaven, not on earth, where all is transitory and
uncertain; for if a man live many years, and rejoice in them all,
let him remember the days of darkness, for they are many! We are no
strangers to the vanity and shadows of human life, master! Pierre's
return is like sunshine breaking through the clouds. God is pleased if
we bask in the sunshine when he sends it."

"Right, dame! and so we will! The old walls of Belmont shall ring with
rejoicing over the return of their heir and future owner."

The dame looked up delightedly at the remark of the Bourgeois. She
knew he had destined Belmont as a residence for Pierre; but the thought
suggested in her mind was, perhaps, the same which the Bourgeois had
mused upon when he gave expression to a certain anxiety.

"Master," said she, "does Pierre know that the Chevalier Bigot was
concerned in the false accusations against you, and that it was he,
prompted by the Cardinal and the Princess de Carignan, who enforced the
unjust decree of the Court?"

"I think not, Deborah. I never told Pierre that Bigot was ever more than
the avocat du Roi in my persecution. It is what troubles me amidst my
joy. If Pierre knew that the Intendant had been my false accuser on the
part of the Cardinal, his sword would not rest a day in its scabbard
without calling Bigot to a bloody account. Indeed, it is all I myself
can do to refrain. When I met him for the first time here, in the Palace
gate, I knew him again and looked him full in the eyes, and he knew
me. He is a bold hound, and glared back at me without shrinking. Had he
smiled I should have struck him; but we passed in silence, with a salute
as mortal as enemies ever gave each other. It is well, perhaps, I wore
not my sword that day, for I felt my passion rising--a thing I abhor.
Pierre's young blood would not remain still if he knew the Intendant as
I know him. But I dare not tell him! There would be bloodshed at once,
Deborah!"

"I fear so, master! I trembled at Bigot in the old land! I tremble at
him here, where he is more powerful than before. I saw him passing one
day. He stopped to read the inscription of the Golden Dog. His face
was the face of a fiend, as he rode hastily away.