CHAPTER XVI
THE POET EXPLAINS TO MONSIEUR DE LAUSON
By the next morning all Quebec had heard of the double duel, andspeculation ran high as to the cause. All Quebec, to be sure, amountedonly to a few hundreds; and a genuine duel at this period was a rarehappening. So everybody knew that D'Herouville and De Leviston were inhospital, seriously though not dangerously wounded, and that Monsieurde Saumaise was in the guardhouse, where, it was supposed, he wouldremain for some time to come, in order that his hot blood might coolappreciably. As for Monsieur d'Halluys, he was not under thegovernor's direct jurisdiction, and was simply ordered to stay in hisroom.
The officers and civilians respected the governor's command, and nooutsider gathered a word of information from them. The officers,talking among themselves, secretly admired the poet's pluck. Like allmen of evil repute, De Leviston was a first-class swordsman and thepoet's stroke had lessened his fame. As for what had caused the fightbetween the vicomte and D'Herouville, they were somewhat at a loss tosay or account for. The governor himself was exceedingly wrathful. Atten o'clock he summoned Victor to appear before him, to render a fullaccount of the affair. The savages made life hazardous enough, withoutthe additional terror of duels.
Victor found the governor alone, and for this he was thankful.
"Monsieur de Saumaise," De Lauson began, sternly, "I gave you creditfor being a young man of sense."
"And a man of heart, too, your Excellency, I hope," replied the poet,valiantly.
"Heart? Is it heart to break the edict, to upset the peace of myhousehold, to set tongues wagging? Persons will want to know the causeof this foolish duel. I am positive that it was fought contrary to theChevalier's wishes. He conducted himself admirably last night. Youhave done more harm than good with your impetuosity. My command wouldhave been respected, and your friend's misfortune would have gone nofarther than my dining-room."
"And Monsieur de Leviston?" with a shade of irony which escaped thegovernor.
"Would have remained silent on the pain of being sent back to France,where the Bastille awaits him. He was exiled to this country, and hemay not leave it till the year sixty. De Maisonneuve would have stoodby me in the matter. So you see that you have blundered in the worstpossible manner."
"And the Vicomte d'Halluys?"
"If D'Herouville dies, the vicomte shall return to France in irons."
"Monsieur," with a sign of heat, "there are some insults which can notbe treated with contempt. I should have proved myself a false friendand a coward had I done otherwise than I did."
"What does the Chevalier say about your fighting his battles for him?"asked the governor, quietly.
Victor's gaze rested on his boots.
"He doesn't approve, then?" The governor drummed with his fingers. "Ithought as much. At your age I was young myself. Youth sees affrontswhere it ought to see caution and circumspection."
"When I have arrived at your Excellency's age . . ."
"No sarcasm, if you please. You are still under arrest."
Victor bowed, and twirled his hat, which was sadly in need of a newplume.
"I warn you, if De Leviston dies I shall hang you high from one of theChevalier's gibbets on Orleans. If he lives, I shall keep in touchwith your future conduct, Monsieur; so take good care of yourself."
"De Leviston will not die. Such men as he do not die honestly in bed.But he was only a puppet in this instance."
"A puppet? Explain."
"There was another who prompted him from behind."
"Who?" sharply.
"I am afraid that at present I can not name him."
"D'Herouville? Be careful, Monsieur; this is a grave accusation youare making. You will be forced to prove it." The governor lookedworried; for to him the Comte d'Herouville was a great noble.
"I did not name him. There was a woman behind all this; a woman who isthe innocent cause."
"Ha! a woman?" The governor leaned forward on his elbows.
"Yes."
"Who?"
"Mademoiselle de Longueville. D'Herouville insulted her and theChevalier took up her cause."
"Why, then, did you not pick your quarrel with the count?"
"The vicomte had some prior claim."
The governor got up and walked about, biting his mustache. Victor eyedhim with some anxiety.
"But the Chevalier; why did he not defend himself?"
Victor breathed impatiently. "Frankly, Monsieur, how can he defendhimself?"
"True." The governor scrubbed his beard. He was in a quandary andknew not which way to move. Tardy decision was the stumbling-block inthe path of this well meaning man. Problems irritated him; and in hissecret heart he wished he had never seen the Chevalier, D'Herouville,the poet, or the vicomte, since they upset his quiet. He had enough todo with public affairs without having private ones thrust gratuitouslyupon his care. "Well, well," he said, reseating himself; "you know mywishes. Nothing but publicity will come of duels and brawls, andpublicity is the last thing the Chevalier is seeking. I feel genuinelysorry for him. The stain on his name does not prevent him from being abrave man and a gentleman. Control yourself, Monsieur de Saumaise, andthe day will come when you will thank me for the advice. As you haveno incentive for running away, I will put you on your word, and thevicomte also. You may go. While I admire the spirit which led you totake up the Chevalier's cause, I deplore it. Who, then, will succeedMonsieur le Marquis?"
"That is a question I can not answer. To the best of my knowledge, noone will succeed Monsieur le Marquis de Perigny."
"So this is what brought him over here? What brought you?"
"Friendship for him, an empty purse and a pocketful of ambition."
The answer pleased De Lauson, and he nodded. "That is all."
"Thank you, Monsieur."
"I shall keep you in mind . . . if you escape the gibbet."
Monsieur de Saumaise, in displaying his teeth, signified that the leastof his worries was the thought of the gibbet.
And so concluded the interview.
The Chevalier remained in his room all day, putting aside his food, andstaring beyond the river. His eyes were dull and the lids discoloredfrom sleeplessness. Victor waited for him to heap reproach upon him;but never a word did the Chevalier utter. The only sign he gave of thevolcano raging and burning beneath the thin mask of calm was theceaseless knotting of the muscles of the jaw and the compressed lips.When the poet broke forth, reviling his own conduct, the Chevaliersilenced him with a gesture of the hand.
"You are wasting your breath. What you have done can not be undone."The tones of his voice were all on a dull level, cold and unimpassioned.
Victor was struck with admiration at the sight of such extraordinarycontrol; and he trembled to think of the whirlwind which would some daybe let loose.
"I will kill De Leviston the first opportunity," he said.
The Chevalier arose. "No, lad; the man who told him. He is mine!"
Victor sought out Brother Jacques for advice; but Brother Jacques'sadvice was similar to the Chevalier's and the governors.
So the day wore on into evening, and only then did the Chevalierventure forth. He wandered aimlessly about the ramparts, alone, havingdeclined Victor's company, and avoiding all whom he saw. He wanted tobe alone, alone, forever alone. Longingly he gazed toward theblackening forests. Yonder was a haven. Into those shadowy woods hemight plunge and hide himself, built him a hut, and become lost tocivilization, his name forgotten and his name forgetting. O fool inwine that he had been! To cut himself off from the joys and haunts ofmen in a moment of drunken insanity! He had driven the marquis withtaunts and gibes; he had shouted his ignoble birth across a table; andhe expected, by coming to this wilderness, to lose the Nemesis hehimself had set upon his heels! What a fool! What a fool! He hadcast out his heart for the rooks and the daws. Wherever he might go,the world would go also, and the covert smile . . . and the covert
smile . . . God, how apart from all mankind he seemed this night. Butfor Victor he would have sought the woods at once, facing the Iroquoisfearlessly. He must remain, to bow his head before the glances of thecurious, the head that once was held so high; accept rebuffs withoutmurmur, stand aside, step down, and follow. If a man laughed at him,he must turn away: his sword could no longer protect him. How his lipsthirsted for the wine-cup, for one mad night, and then . . . oblivion!An outcast! What would be his end? O the long years! For him thereshould be no wifely lips to kiss away the penciled lines of care; thehappy voices of children would never make music in his ears. He wasalone, always and ever alone!
Presently the Chevalier bowed his head upon the cold iron of thecannon. The crimson west grew fainter and fainter; and the eveningbreeze came up and stirred the Company's flags on the warehouses farbelow.
Suddenly the Chevalier lifted his head. He was still an officer and agentleman. He would stand taller, look into each eye and dare with hisown. It was not what he had been, nor what had been done to him; itwas what he was, would be and do. If every hand was to be against his,so be it. D'Herouville? Some day that laugh should cost him dear.The vicomte? What was his misfortune to the vicomte that he shouldpick a quarrel on his account? Was he a gallant fellow like Victor?He would learn.
He put on his hat. It was dark. Lights began to flicker in the fortand the chateau. The resolution seemed to give him new strength, andhe squared his shoulders, took in deep breaths, entered the officers'mess and dined.
The men about him were for the most part manly men, brave, open-handed,rough outwardly and soft within. And as they saw him take his seatquietly, a sparkle of admiration gleamed from every eye. The vicomteand Victor, both out on parole, took their plates and glasses andranged alongside of the Chevalier. In France they would have eitherleft the room or cheered him; as it was, they all finished the eveningmeal as if nothing extraordinary had happened.
So the Chevalier won his first victory.