.

"Very well, we shall go together, my poet," throwing an arm across
Victor's shoulders. "We shall go together, as we have always gone.
And, after all, what is a name but sounding brass? 'Tis a man's arm
that makes or unmakes his honesty, not his thrift; his loyalty, rather
than his self-interest. We shall go together. Come; we'll sign the
major's papers, and have done with it."

Victor threw his hat into the air.

"And I, Monsieur Paul?" said Breton, trembling in his shoes, with
expectancy or fear.

"If they will let you go, lad," kindly; and Breton fell upon his knees
and kissed the Chevalier's hand.

The articles which made them soldiers, obedient first to the will of
the king and second to the will of the Company of the Hundred
Associates, were duly signed. Breton was permitted to accompany his
master with the understanding that he was to entail no extra expense.
Father Chaumonot was delighted; Brother Jacques was thoughtful; the
major was neutral and incurious. As yet no rumor stirred its ugly
head; the Chevalier's reasons for going were still a matter of
conjecture. None had the courage to approach the somber young man and
question him. The recruits and broken gentlemen had troubles of
sufficient strength to be unmindful of the interest in the Chevalier's.
The officers from Fort Louis bowed politely to the Chevalier, but came
not near enough to speak. Excessive delicacy, or embarrassment, or
whatever it was, the Chevalier appreciated it. As for the civilians
who had enjoyed the hospitality of the Hotel de Perigny, they remained
unobserved on the outskirts of the crowd. The vicomte expressed little
or no surprise to learn that Victor had signed. He simply smiled; for
if others were mystified as to the poet's conduct, he was not. Often
his glance roved toward the stairs; but there were no petticoats going
up or coming down.

"Monsieur le Vicomte," said Brother Jacques, whose curiosity was eating
deeply, "will you not explain to me the cause of the Chevalier's
extraordinary conduct?"

"Ah, my little Jesuit!" said the vicomte; "so you are still burning
with curiosity? Well, I promise to tell you all about it the first
time I confess to you."

"Monsieur, have you any reason for insulting me?" asked Brother
Jacques, coldly, his pale cheeks aflame.

"Good! there is blood in you, then?" laughed the vicomte, noting the
color.

"Red and healthy, Monsieur," in a peculiar tone. Brother Jacques wa