The Golden Dog [292]
the still oozing wound. The Recollet Brother Daniel still knelt in silent prayer at his feet, while Dame Rochelle with trembling hands arranged the drapery decently over her dead master, repeating to herself:
"It is the end of trouble, and God has mercifully taken him away before he empties the vials of his wrath upon this New France, and gives it up for a possession to our enemies! What says the prophet? 'The righteous perisheth and no man layeth it to heart, and merciful men are taken away, none considering that the righteous are taken away from the evil to come!'"
The very heart of La Corne St. Luc seemed bursting in his bosom, and he choked with agony as he placed his hand upon the forehead of his friend, and reflected that the good Bourgeois had fallen by the sword of his godson, the old man's pride,--Le Gardeur de Repentigny!
"Had death come to him on the broad, common road of mortality,--had he died like a soldier on the battlefield," exclaimed La Corne, "I would have had no spite at fate. But to be stabbed in the midst of his good deeds of alms, and by the hand of one whom he loved! Yes, by God! I will say it! and by one who loved him! Oh, it is terrible, Count! Terrible and shameful to me as if it had been the deed of my own son!"
"La Corne, I feel with you the grief and shame of such a tragedy. But there is a fearful mystery in this thing which we cannot yet unravel. They say the Chevalier de Pean dropped an expression that sounded like a plot. I cannot think Le Gardeur de Repentigny would deliberately and with forethought have killed the Bourgeois."
"On my life he never would! He respected the Bourgeois, nay, loved him, for the sake of Pierre Philibert as well as for his own sake. Terrible as is his crime, he never committed it out of malice aforethought. He has been himself the victim of some hellish plot,-- for a plot there has been. This has been no chance melee, Count," exclaimed La Corne St. Luc impetuously.
"It looks like a chance melee, but I suspect more than appears on the surface," replied the Governor. "The removal of the Bourgeois decapitates the party of the Honnetes Gens, does it not?"
"Gospel is not more true! The Bourgeois was the only merchant in New France capable of meeting their monopoly and fighting them with their own weapons. Bigot and the Grand Company will have everything their own way now."
"Besides, there was the old feud of the Golden Dog," continued the Governor. "Bigot took its allusion to the Cardinal as a personal insult to himself, did he not, La Corne?"
"Yes; and Bigot knew he deserved it equally with his Eminence, whose arch-tool he had been," replied La Corne. "By God! I believe Bigot has been at the bottom of this plot. It would be worthy of his craft."
"These are points to be considered, La Corne. But such is the secrecy of these men's councils, that I doubt we may suspect more than we shall ever be able to prove." The Governor looked much agitated.
"What amazes me, Count, is not that the thing should be done, but that Le Gardeur should have done it!" exclaimed La Corne, with a puzzled expression.
"That is the strangest circumstance of all, La Corne," observed the Governor. "The same thought has struck me. But he was mad with wine, they say; and men who upset their reason do not seldom reverse their conduct towards their friends; they are often cruelest to those whom they love best."
"I will not believe but that he was made drunk purposely to commit this crime!" exclaimed La Corne, striking his hand upon his thigh. "Le Gardeur in his senses would have lost his right hand sooner than have raised it against the Bourgeois."
"I feel sure of it; his friendship for Pierre Philibert, to whom he owed his life, was something rarely seen now-a-days," remarked the Count.
La Corne felt a relief in bearing testimony in favor of Le Gardeur. "They loved one another like brothers," said he, "and more than brothers. Bigot had corrupted the habits, but could never soil the heart or lessen the love of Le Gardeur for Pierre Philibert,
"It is the end of trouble, and God has mercifully taken him away before he empties the vials of his wrath upon this New France, and gives it up for a possession to our enemies! What says the prophet? 'The righteous perisheth and no man layeth it to heart, and merciful men are taken away, none considering that the righteous are taken away from the evil to come!'"
The very heart of La Corne St. Luc seemed bursting in his bosom, and he choked with agony as he placed his hand upon the forehead of his friend, and reflected that the good Bourgeois had fallen by the sword of his godson, the old man's pride,--Le Gardeur de Repentigny!
"Had death come to him on the broad, common road of mortality,--had he died like a soldier on the battlefield," exclaimed La Corne, "I would have had no spite at fate. But to be stabbed in the midst of his good deeds of alms, and by the hand of one whom he loved! Yes, by God! I will say it! and by one who loved him! Oh, it is terrible, Count! Terrible and shameful to me as if it had been the deed of my own son!"
"La Corne, I feel with you the grief and shame of such a tragedy. But there is a fearful mystery in this thing which we cannot yet unravel. They say the Chevalier de Pean dropped an expression that sounded like a plot. I cannot think Le Gardeur de Repentigny would deliberately and with forethought have killed the Bourgeois."
"On my life he never would! He respected the Bourgeois, nay, loved him, for the sake of Pierre Philibert as well as for his own sake. Terrible as is his crime, he never committed it out of malice aforethought. He has been himself the victim of some hellish plot,-- for a plot there has been. This has been no chance melee, Count," exclaimed La Corne St. Luc impetuously.
"It looks like a chance melee, but I suspect more than appears on the surface," replied the Governor. "The removal of the Bourgeois decapitates the party of the Honnetes Gens, does it not?"
"Gospel is not more true! The Bourgeois was the only merchant in New France capable of meeting their monopoly and fighting them with their own weapons. Bigot and the Grand Company will have everything their own way now."
"Besides, there was the old feud of the Golden Dog," continued the Governor. "Bigot took its allusion to the Cardinal as a personal insult to himself, did he not, La Corne?"
"Yes; and Bigot knew he deserved it equally with his Eminence, whose arch-tool he had been," replied La Corne. "By God! I believe Bigot has been at the bottom of this plot. It would be worthy of his craft."
"These are points to be considered, La Corne. But such is the secrecy of these men's councils, that I doubt we may suspect more than we shall ever be able to prove." The Governor looked much agitated.
"What amazes me, Count, is not that the thing should be done, but that Le Gardeur should have done it!" exclaimed La Corne, with a puzzled expression.
"That is the strangest circumstance of all, La Corne," observed the Governor. "The same thought has struck me. But he was mad with wine, they say; and men who upset their reason do not seldom reverse their conduct towards their friends; they are often cruelest to those whom they love best."
"I will not believe but that he was made drunk purposely to commit this crime!" exclaimed La Corne, striking his hand upon his thigh. "Le Gardeur in his senses would have lost his right hand sooner than have raised it against the Bourgeois."
"I feel sure of it; his friendship for Pierre Philibert, to whom he owed his life, was something rarely seen now-a-days," remarked the Count.
La Corne felt a relief in bearing testimony in favor of Le Gardeur. "They loved one another like brothers," said he, "and more than brothers. Bigot had corrupted the habits, but could never soil the heart or lessen the love of Le Gardeur for Pierre Philibert,