BERTRAMS? SMITH 
 "ACRES OF I 
 
 140. PACIFIC '- ' 
 LONG ?,:- t.\ 2
 
 The Black Wolf's Breed
 
 'Come, fellow, thoti art trapped ; give me up my purse." p. 76.
 
 The 
 Black Wolfs Breed 
 
 A Story of France 
 
 In the Old World and the New, happening 
 in the Reign of Louis XIV 
 
 By 
 Ham's Dickson 
 
 Illustrations by 
 C. M. Belyea 
 
 TWELFTH THOUSAND 
 
 Indianapolis 
 
 The Bowefl-Merrill Company 
 Publishers
 
 COPYRIGHT 1899 
 
 BY 
 THE BOWBN-MBRRH.L COMPANY 
 
 All rights restrvtd 
 
 T .tunworth. Munn & Barber. 
 
 Printers an<l Bookbinders, 
 
 16 NMMU Street. Brooklyn. N. V.
 
 TO THE MEMORY OF 
 
 BIENVILLE 
 THE SOLDIER-GOVERNOR OF LOUISIANA 
 
 OUT OF WHOSE 
 MIGHTY PROVINCE HAS GROWN NEARLY ONE-HALF 
 
 OF THE 
 
 WORLD'S GREATEST 
 REPUBLIC 
 
 2061721
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 The Master 
 
 
 
 II 
 
 Bienville 
 
 
 
 III 
 
 Aboard Le Dauphin 1 8 
 
 IV 
 The Road to Versailles 26 
 
 V 
 The Decadence of Versailles 32 
 
 VI 
 Louis XIV 47 
 
 VII 
 
 At the Austrian Arms 57 
 
 VIII 
 A New Friend 7* 
 
 IX 
 
 Mademoiselle 85
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 X 
 
 In the House of Bertrand 101 
 
 XI 
 The Dawn and the Dusk no 
 
 XII 
 Florine to the Rescue 122 
 
 XIII 
 The Girl of the Wine Shop 133 
 
 XIV 
 The Secretary and the Duke 146 
 
 XV 
 New Hopes 163 
 
 XVI 
 The Unexpected 173 
 
 XVII 
 
 The Flight From Sceaux 180 
 
 XVIII 
 Serigny's Departure 193 
 
 XIX 
 The Castle of Cartillon 205 
 
 XX 
 
 From the Path of Duty 224 
 
 XXI 
 
 The Fall of Pensacola 233
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 XXII 
 
 The Contents of the Box 241 
 
 XXIII 
 A Note Which Went Astray 251 
 
 XXIV 
 The Children of the Black Wolf's Breed 266 
 
 APPENDIX 275
 
 T? RANGE In the old world and in the new! 
 * The France -of romance and glory under Henry 
 of Navarre; of pride and glitter under Louis XIV, in 
 whose reign was builded, under the silver lilies, that em- 
 pire Louisiana in the vagtie, dim valley of the Mis- 
 sissippi across the sea: these are the scenes wherein this 
 drama shall be played. Through these times shall run 
 the tale which follows. Times when a man' s good sword 
 was ever his truest friend, when he who fought best com- 
 manded most respect. It was the era of lusty men 
 
 the weak went to the wall. 
 
 King and courtier ; soldier and diplomat ; lass and 
 lady ; these are the people with whom this story deals. 
 If, therefore, you find brave fighting and swords hang- 
 ing too loosely in their sheaths ; if honor clings round an 
 empty shadow and the women seem more fair than hon- 
 est, I pray yo^^. remember when these things did happen, 
 who were the actors, and the stage whereon they played. 
 
 THE AUTHOR.
 
 THE BLACK WOLFS BREED 
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 T T is fitting that old men, even those whose trade is 
 
 war, should end their days in peace, yet it galls me 
 
 grievously to sit idly here by the fire, in this year of 
 
 grace 174.6, while great things go on in the world about 
 
 me. 
 
 The feeble hound at my feet, stretching his crippled 
 limbs to the blaze, dreams of the chase, and bays de- 
 lighted in his sleep. Nor can I do more than dream 
 and meditate and brood. 
 
 News of Fontenoy and the glory of Prince Maurice 
 thrills my sluggish blood; again I taste the wild joys of 
 conflict ; the clashing steel, the battle shouts, the cries 
 of dying men yea, even the death scream of those 
 sorely stricken comes as a balm to soothe my droning 
 age. But the youthful vigor is gone. This arm could 
 scarcely wield a bodkin ; the old friend of many cam- 
 paigns rusts in its scabbard, and God knows France had 
 never more urgent need of keen and honest swords. 
 (0
 
 2 THE BLACK WOLF S BREED 
 
 Thus run my thoughts while f sit here like some de- 
 crepit priest, bending over my task, for though but an in- 
 different clerk I desire to leave this narrative for my chil- 
 dren 1 's children. 
 
 My early life was spent, as my children already 
 know, for the most part in the American Colonies. Of 
 my father I knew little, he being stationed at such re- 
 mote frontier posts in the savage country that he would 
 not allow my mother and myself to accompany him. So 
 we led a secluded life in the garrison at Quebec. After 
 the news came of his death somewhere out in the wilder- 
 ness, my brave mother and I were left entirely alone. I 
 was far too young then to realize my loss, and the mem- 
 ory of those Peaceful years in America with my patient, 
 accomplished mother remains to me now the very happiest 
 of my life. 
 
 From her I learned to note and love the beauties of 
 mountain and of stream. The broad blue St. Lawrence 
 and the mighty forests on its banks were a constant 
 source of delight to my childish fancy, and those mem- 
 ories cling to me, ineffaceable even by all these years of 
 war and tumult. 
 
 When she died I drifted to our newer stations in the 
 south, down the great river, and it is of that last year 
 in Louisiana, while I was yet Captain de Mouret of 
 Bienville 1 s Guards, that I would have my children know. 
 
 Along the shore of Back Bay, on the southern coast 
 of our Province of Louisiana, the dense marsh grass 
 grows far out into the water, trembling and throbbing 
 with the ebb and flow of every tide.
 
 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 Thicker than men at arms, it stands awhile erect 
 where the shallow sea waves foam and fret; then climb- 
 ing higher ground, it straggles away, thinner and thin- 
 ner, in oaken- shaded solitudes long innocent of sun. 
 
 Beginning on the slopes, a vast mysterious forest, 
 without village, path, or white inhabitant, stretches in- 
 land far and away beyond the utmost ken of man . There 
 the towering pines range themselves in ever-receding col- 
 onnades upon a carpet smooth and soft as ever hushed 
 the tread of Sultan 's foot. Dripping from their topmost 
 boughs the sunlight s splendor flickers on the floor, as if 
 it stole through chancel window of some cool cathedral 
 where Nature in proud humility worshiped at the foot of 
 Nature' s God. 
 
 It was in those wilds, somewhere, the fabled El 
 Dorado lay ; there bubbled the fountain of eternal youth ; 
 through that endless wilderness of forest, plain and hill 
 flowed on in turbid majesty the waters of De Soto 1 s 
 mighty grave.
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE MASTER 
 
 TT was late one clear moonlight night in the spring of 
 A i/ , when three silent figures emerged from the 
 woodland darkness and struck across the wide extent of 
 rank grass which yet separated us from the bay. Tuska- 
 homa led the way, a tall grim Choctaw chieftain, my 
 companion on many a hunt, his streaming plumes flutter- 
 ing behind him as he strode. I followed, and after me, 
 Le Corbeau Rouge, a runner of the Choctaws. We 
 were returning to Biloxi from a reconnaissance in the 
 Chickasaw country. 
 
 Each straight behind the other, dumb and soundless 
 shadows, we passed along the way, hardly bruising a 
 leaf or brushing the rustling reeds aside. 
 
 "See, there is the light," grunted Tuskahoma, point- 
 ing to a glimmer through the trees. "Yes, the White 
 Prophet never sleeps," assented Le Corbeau Rouge. 
 
 The light which marked our almost ended journey 
 came from a window in one of those low, square log 
 houses, fortress-dwellings, so common in the provinces. 
 
 Here, however, the strong pine palisades were broken 
 down in many places ; the iron-studded gate hung un- 
 (5)
 
 6 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 hinged and open, the accumulated sand at its base 
 showed it had not been closed in many years. 
 
 But the decay and neglect everywhere manifest in its 
 defenses extended no further, for inside the enclosure 
 was a garden carefully tended ; a trailing vine clung lov- 
 ingly to a corner of the wide gallery, and even a few of 
 the bright roses of France lent their sweetness to a place 
 it seemed impossible to associate with a thought of bar- 
 baric warfare. 
 
 I loved this humble home, for in such a one my 
 mother and I had spent those last years of sweet good- 
 comradeship before her death the roses, the rude 
 house, all reminded me of her, of peace, of gentler 
 things. 
 
 The character of its lone occupant protected this 
 lowly abode far better than the armies of France, the 
 chivalry of Spain, or the Choctaw's ceaseless vigilance 
 could possibly have done. He came there it was said, 
 some fifteen years before, a Huguenot exile, seemingly 
 a man of education and birth. He built his castle of 
 refuge on a knoll overlooking the sheltered bay, hoping 
 there to find the toleration denied him in his native 
 land. The edict of Nantes had been revoked by King 
 Louis, and thousands of exiled Frenchmen of high and 
 low degree sought new fortunes in newer lands. 
 
 Many had reached America, and strove with ener- 
 getic swords and rapacious wallets to wrest blood and 
 gold and fame from whatsoever source they might. 
 
 This man alone of all those first explorers had shown 
 no disposition to search out the hidden treasures of the
 
 THE MASTER 7 
 
 wilderness, to prey upon the natives. He became their 
 friend and not their plunderer. 
 
 His quiet life, his kindness, his charity, his knowledge 
 of the simple arts of healing, so endeared him to every 
 warring faction that at his house the Choctaw and the 
 Chickasaw, the Frenchman, Spaniard and the English- 
 man met alike in peace. So the needless fortifications 
 fell into unrepaired decay. 
 
 Many an afternoon I had paddled across the bay and 
 spent a quiet hour with him, as far from the jars and 
 discord at Biloxi as if we were in some other world. 
 
 As, this night, we drew nearer the house we saw no 
 signs of life save the chinks of light creeping beneath 
 the door. I rapped, and his voice bade me enter. 
 
 The master sat at his table in the center of a great 
 room, about which were a number of surgical and 
 scientific instruments, all objects of mistrust to my In- 
 dian friends. 
 
 These curious weapons of destruction or of witchcraft, 
 for so the Indians regarded them, contributed to make 
 him an object of fear, which doubtless did much to 
 strengthen his influence among the tribes. 
 
 He was at this time somewhat more than sixty, slender 
 and rather above the medium height. With his usual grave 
 courtesy he welcomed us and readily loaned the small 
 pirogue necessary to carry our party across the bay. 
 
 The Indians were restless and the governor waited, so 
 I only thanked our host and turned to go. 
 
 He rose, and laying his hand upon my arm detained 
 me. "Wait, Placide; I am glad you returned this
 
 8 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 way, for I have long wished to speak with you ; espe- 
 cially do I wish it on this night on this night. Sit 
 down." 
 
 Mechanically I obeyed, for I could see there was 
 something of more than usual import on his mind. The 
 Indians had withdrawn, and the master, pacing uncer- 
 tainly about the room, paused and regarded me in- 
 tently, as if he almost regretted his invitation to stay. 
 After several efforts he abruptly began : 
 
 "I fear I have not very long to live, and dread to 
 meet death, leaving a solemn duty unperformed. It is 
 of this I would speak." 
 
 I listened in silence. He spoke hurriedly as though 
 he doubted his resolution to tell it all. 
 
 "You, and every one in these colonies, know me only as 
 Colonel d'Ortez, the Huguenot refugee. So I have been 
 known by the whites ever since I came here to escape 
 persecution at home, and to get forever beyond the 
 sound of a name which has become hateful to me my 
 own. 
 
 "The Counts d'Artin have been a proud race in 
 France for centuries, yet I, the last d'Artin, find the 
 name too great a burden to bear with me in shameful 
 silence to my grave. See this," and he took from his 
 throat a pearl-studded locket, swung by a substantial 
 golden chain, which he opened and handed to me. In- 
 side were the arms of a noble family exquisitely blaz- 
 oned upon a silver shield. 
 
 "What is it; what device is there?" 
 
 I knew something of heraldry and read aloud without
 
 ^ ^ 
 
 " What is it ; what device is there?" p. 8.
 
 THE MASTER 9 
 
 hesitation the bearings upon the shield, prominent among 
 which were three wolves' heads, chevroned, supported 
 by two black wolves, rampant, the coronet and motto 
 "Praeclare factum." 
 
 "Aye," he mused half coherently, "the wolf; 'tis the 
 crest of the d'Artins, quartered with those of many of 
 the most ancient houses of France. So do those arms 
 appear to men. But see." 
 
 He took the locket quickly from me and with a swift 
 forceful movement turned the plate in its place, exposing 
 the reverse side. 
 
 ' 'What is this ? Look ! ' ' 
 
 I glanced at it and started, looking inquiringly into 
 my old friend's face. He avoided my eye. 
 
 I saw now upon the plate the same arms, the same 
 quarterings, but over all there ran diagonally across 
 the scutcheon* a flaming bar of red which blazed evilly 
 upon the silver ground. I understood. 
 
 "What is it?" he demanded impatiently. I still could 
 find no word to answer. 
 
 "Speak out boy, what is it?" 
 
 ' 'The same, but here, over all, is the bendlet sinister. ' ' 
 I scarcely dared to look up into his face. 
 
 "Aye," he replied, his countenance livid with 
 shame. "It is the bar sinister, the badge of dishonor. 
 So do those proud arms appear in the sight of God, 
 and so shall they be seen of men. And for genera- 
 tions each Lord of Cartillon has added to that crimson 
 stripe the indelible stain of cowardice." 
 
 The master, his features working convulsively with
 
 10 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 humbled pride, his eyes never leaving the floor, con- 
 tinued resolutely. 
 
 "The story is short. Over a hundred years ago the 
 Count d'Artin was murdered in his castle by the son of 
 a peasant woman, his half brother, who assumed the 
 title and seized the estates. This was easy in those 
 times, for the murdered man was a Huguenot, his slayer 
 a Catholic in the service of Guise, and it was the day 
 after St. Bartholomew's. The count had sent his infant 
 son for safety to an old friend, the abbott of a neigh- 
 boring monastery. This child was brought up in the 
 Catholic faith, and in him and his descendants resided 
 the true right of the Counts d'Artin. Of this they have 
 always been ignorant. The usurper on his death bed 
 repented, and calling his own son to him, told him the 
 whole story, exacting a solemn oath that he would find 
 the disinherited one and restore to him his own. This 
 oath was kept in part. His son, Raoul d'Ortez, found 
 the child, then an officer in the army, but lacked the 
 courage to declare his own shame, and relinquish the 
 price of his father's crime. By that Raoul d'Ortez 
 this locket was made, and the same vow and the same 
 tradition were handed down to me. I have no child. 
 God knows I would give up the accursed heritage if I 
 could. 
 
 "During all these years a careful record has been kept 
 of the true lineage, which was only broken in my 
 father's time. Here in this packet are the papers which 
 prove it; I confide them to you upon my death. After 
 I am gone I want you to find the last d'Artin."
 
 THE MASTER H 
 
 He was silent now a long time, then continued in a 
 lower tone : ' ' My mother was of the reformed religion 
 and I embraced her faith. It seems like a judgment of 
 God that I, a Huguenot, should lose under King Louis 
 what my Catholic ancestor gained under King Charles. 
 Now go, lad." 
 
 I could say nothing, but touching his hand in mute 
 sympathy turned away without a word. 
 
 I had almost reached the door when he sprang after 
 and again detained me. His glance searched appre- 
 hensively into the shadowy corners of the room, his 
 voice wavered, the look of a hunted animal crept into 
 his eyes. 
 
 " 'Tis said," he whispered, "the restless spirits of 
 my fathers yet haunt our castle in Normandy oh, mer- 
 ciful God, do you believe it? Oh no, no, after all these 
 troubled years I fain would find a dreamless slumber in 
 my grave." 
 
 I soothed him as I would a frightened child, and left 
 him standing at the door.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 BIENVILLE 
 
 JVA USING on this strange story, and the old man's 
 
 unwonted fear, I walked on down to the water's 
 
 edge where my Indian friends, already in the pirogue, 
 
 awaited me. Another half hour and we were in Biloxi. 
 
 When we reached the barracks I found orders to at- 
 tend the governor at once. 
 
 Bienville stood before his fire alone, quiet, but in a 
 very different mood from any in which I had theretofore 
 seen him. 
 
 "Captain de Mouret," the rough old warrior began, 
 without any prelude or indirection, "I desire to send 
 you at once to Paris on an errand of the utmost impor- 
 tance to myself and to this colony. I select you for this 
 task, though I can ill spare you here, because it is a 
 delicate matter. I believe you to be honest, I know 
 you are courageous." 
 
 I bowed, and he went on. Something had evidently 
 occurred to vex and irritate him. 
 
 "You know the people who surround me here, the 
 weak, the vicious, the licentious of all the earth. A 
 band of unprincipled adventurers, vile Canadians and 
 half-breeds, all too lazy to work, or evfen to feed them- 
 
 (12)
 
 BIENVILLE 1 3 
 
 selves out of the bountiful earth which would give every- 
 thing we need almost for the asking. The air is full now 
 of rumors of a Spanish war, and a Natchez-Chickasaw 
 alliance. If these things are true we would find our- 
 selves entirely cut off from French supplies, and this 
 colony would literally starve to death. Yes, starve to 
 death with untold millions of fruitful acres all about us. 
 Had we strength to fight I would not care so much. 
 With but two companies of undisciplined troops, a mere 
 straggling handful, officered by drunkards, we could not 
 defend this post a day against any organized attack." 
 
 All this I knew to be true, so I made no comment. 
 He pursued the conversation and evidently relieved his 
 mind of much that had troubled him for months. 
 
 "Then this beggarly commissary of mine, and the 
 trafficking priest, de la Vente, they are constantly stir- 
 ring up strife against me here, and putting lies in the 
 hands of my enemies at court. The king, too, is wearied 
 out with this endless drain upon his treasury for money 
 and supplies, and is now, so I am informed, almost 
 ready to accede to Crozat's proposition, and turn over 
 to him the revenues and government of the colonies." 
 
 The old man grew earnest and eloquent. 
 
 ' 'What ! turn over an empire such as this to a miser- 
 able trading huckster, the son of a peasant permit him 
 to name the governors and officers ! Why, under his 
 rule, such cattle as la Salle and de la Vente would feed 
 fat upon the miseries of the people ! Great God, 
 Placide, do you appreciate what that means? To 
 create this peddler of silks and laces lord of a bound-
 
 14 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 less domain, more magnificent than Louis in his wildest 
 schemes of conquest ever dreamed? Why, boy, the day 
 will come when for a thousand leagues the silver lilies 
 will signal each other from every hill top ; marts of com- 
 merce will thrive and flourish; the land will smile with 
 farms and cities, with proud palaces and with granite 
 castles. The white sails of our boats will fleck every lake 
 and sea and river with their rich burdens of trade, pour- 
 ing a fabulous and a willing wealth into the coffers of 
 the king. Gold and silver mines will yield their pre- 
 cious stores, while from these niggard natives we will 
 wrest with mighty arm the tribute they so contemptu- 
 ously deny the weakling curs who snap and snarl at my 
 heels. Grey tower and fortress will guard every inlet, and 
 watch this sheltered coast. In every vale the low chant 
 of holy nuns will breathe their benediction upon a 
 happy people. And hordes of nations yet unknown 
 and races yet unborn, in future legends, in song, in story 
 and in rhyme, will laud the name of Bourbon and the 
 glory of the French. Oh lad! lad! 'tis an ambition 
 worthy a god." 
 
 The governor had risen, and waving his long arms 
 this way and that, pointed out the confines of his mighty 
 dreamland empire with as much assurance as if cities 
 and towns would spring up at his bidding 
 
 His whole frame spoke the most intense emotion. 
 The face, glorified and transfigured by the allurement of 
 his brilliant mirage, seemed that of another man. 
 
 "Ah, Placide! Placide! it stings me that this chiv- 
 alrous king of ours, this degenerate grandson of Henry
 
 BIENVILLE 1 5 
 
 the Great, should think of selling for a few paltry livres 
 such an heritage as this. Shame to you Louis, shame!" 
 
 His tone had grown so loud, so peremptory, I inter- 
 rupted. 
 
 "Caution, sire; who knows what tattler's ears are 
 listening, or where your thoughtless words may be re- 
 peated." 
 
 He stood moodily with hands behind him gazing into 
 the fire. For years I had known Bienville the soldier, 
 the stern and unyielding governor, with the hand of iron 
 and the tongue of suasion. 
 
 Now I saw for the first time Bienville the man, Bien- 
 yille the visionary, Bienville the enthusiast, the dreamer 
 of dreams and the builder of castles. I watched him in 
 amazement. 
 
 "Then these miserable women whom our good father, 
 the Bishop of Quebec, was so kind as to send us, bring- 
 ing from their House of Correction all the airs and 
 graces of a court. Bringing hither their silly romances of 
 a land of plenty; they vow they came not here to work, 
 and by the grace of God, work they will not. They 
 declare they are not horses to eat of the corn of the 
 fields, and clamor for their dear Parisian dainties. 
 Against such a petticoat insurrection the governor is 
 helpless. Bah ! it sickens me. I wonder not that our 
 men prefer the Indian maidens, for they at least have 
 common sense. But by my soul, Captain, here I stand 
 and rant like some schoolboy mouthing his speech. 
 Tush, it is forgotten.
 
 1 6 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 "Tell me, Captain de Mouret, what have you learned 
 of the Chickasaws, for our time grows short.' 
 
 Glad to change the current of his thought I went on 
 in detail to give the results of my reconnaissance. 
 Everywhere we found preparations among the allied 
 tribes, and felt sure we saw signs of a secret under- 
 standing between them and the Spaniard. 
 
 The governor made many notes, and carefully exam- 
 ined the charts I had drawn of the Chickasaw towns, 
 systematically marking down the strength and fortifica- 
 tions of each. When I had finished my report we sat 
 for quite a while, he silent and thoughtful, watching the 
 thin blue smoke eddy round and round then dart up the 
 capacious chimney. 
 
 "And they charge me at the court of France," he 
 soliloquized, giving half unconscious expression to the 
 matter uppermost in his mind, "they charge me at the 
 court of France, what no man save my king dare say 
 to me that I divert the public funds to my own use. I, 
 a Le Moyne, who spend my own private fortune in 
 protecting and feeding these ungrateful people. But 
 we waste time in words, like two chattering old women. 
 We need ships and money and men men who fight 
 like gentlemen for glory, not deserters and convicts who 
 fight unwillingly under the lash for gold. 
 
 "What can I do with troops who would as gladly 
 spoil Biloxi as Havana? 
 
 "Captain de Mouret, you will sail on le Dauphin to- 
 morrow at daylight. Place these dispatches in my 
 brother Serigny's hands immediately upon your arrival.
 
 BIENVILLE I/ 
 
 From that time forward act under his instructions. Re- 
 member, sir, your mission is a secret one." 
 
 I knew well the name he gave me, for next to Iber- 
 ville, Serigny was reputed the most accomplished of all 
 the Le Moyne's. To his fame as a soldier, his attain- 
 ments as a scholar, he added the easy grace of the 
 courtier. His position at the court of Louis gave him 
 great prestige throughout the colonies ; he being a sort 
 of adviser to the King on colonial affairs, or so we all 
 then thought him. Little did I then know how scant 
 was the heed paid by power and ambition to real merit 
 and soldierly virtues. 
 
 This while we sat without passing a word. Truth to 
 tell I was loath to leave the Governor, for I knew even 
 better than he how much of treachery there was in those 
 about him. Besides that I had no confidence in my 
 lieutenant, and yet hated to acquaint Bienville with the 
 fact for fear he might mistrust my motives. I was heavy 
 at heart and dreaded the future. 
 
 When, somewhat after midnight, I arose to go, he 
 came around the table and taking me by both shoulders 
 gazed steadily into my face. I met his glance frankly 
 and quailed not. 
 
 "Forgive me, Placide, these are such days of distrust I 
 doubt every one about me. Forgive me, lad, but your 
 old commander's reputation, aye, his honor even, de- 
 pends now so much upon your fidelity." 
 
 I could say nothing. I felt a stealthy tear tremble in 
 my eye, yet was not ashamed, for its mate glistened in 
 his own, and he was a man not given to over-weeping. 
 2 BLACK WOLF
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 ABOARD LE DAUPHIN. 
 
 THE morning dawned moist and cold, with a stiff 
 westerly wind. Just before daylight a small boat 
 pushed off the low beach, scraped along the shallows, 
 skirted the western edge of the island which there lies 
 endwise across the harbor, and put me aboard le Dau- 
 phin. 
 
 I alone had no part in all the noisy preparation for 
 departure, but sat absorbed in thought near an open port 
 listening to the straining of the masts, the flapping sails, 
 the low complaining beat of the wind-tormented waters. 
 
 Above the creak of the windlass raising anchor, I 
 could catch snatches of whispered conversation just out- 
 side the port. The two men were beyond my range of 
 vision. One seemed to be tossing in a boat, the other 
 hung down the vessel's side by a ladder. I made out, 
 disjointedly : 
 
 "Along in September as soon as you return all 
 will be in readiness two thousand Creeks, Chickasaws, 
 Natchez we ought to have no difficulty Yvard Span- 
 ish ships. The fall of Biloxi will be a great thing for 
 us." And much more that I could not hear clearly. 
 (18)
 
 ABOARD LE DAUPHIN 19 
 
 But I had heard enough to know there was some 
 truth in the rumor of a Spanish-Indian alliance, and an 
 attack on Biloxi. And the name Yvard, being unusual, 
 clung somewhat to my memory. 
 
 I immediately ran on deck and sauntered over towards 
 that side, seeking to discover the traitor. No one was 
 there, only a little group of officers walking about; to- 
 wards the shore were the retreating outlines of a light 
 boat. I knew none of these officers, any one of whom 
 might have been the man I overheard, and so I durst 
 ask no questions. I could therefore confide in no one 
 on board for fear of making a mistake, but must rely 
 upon giving Bienville prompt warning upon my return, 
 and I must needs hide my reluctance and mingle with 
 officers and men, for perchance by this means I might 
 uncover the scoundrel. 
 
 Although I made free with the men, pitched quoits, 
 and joined in their rough play, I trusted none, suspected 
 all. No, not all. There were two young fellows whom 
 I was many times on the point of calling to my confi- 
 dence, but, thinking it wiser, kept my own counsel. 
 Treason could ever wear a smiling front and air of frank- 
 ness. 
 
 Levert was a man much older than myself, of gloomy 
 and taciturn manners, yet something there was so mas- 
 terful about him men obeyed him whether they would 
 or no. A more silent man I never knew, yet courteous 
 and stately withal, and well liked by the men. But it 
 was to Achille Broussard my heart went out in those 
 days of loneliness. His almost childish lightness of dis-
 
 2O THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 position and his friendly ways won me completely, and 
 we became fast comrades. A noble looking lad, with the 
 strength of a young Titan, and the blonde curls of a 
 woman. During the long idle hours of the afternoon it 
 was his custom to banter me for a bout at swords, and 
 Levert generally acted as our master of the lists. At 
 first he was much my superior with the foils, for dur- 
 ing his days with the Embassy at Madrid, and in the 
 schools at Paris, he had learned those hundreds of 
 showy and fancy little tricks of which we in the forests 
 knew nothing. However, I doubted not that on the 
 field our rougher ways and sterner methods would count 
 for quite as much. 
 
 With all the five long weeks of daily practice, I gath- 
 ered many things from him, until one day we had an 
 experience which made us lay the foils aside for good. 
 
 We had been sitting after the dinner hour, discussing 
 his early life in Paris. He wound up with his usual 
 declaration, "As for myself, give me the gorgeous 
 plays, the fetes and smiles of the Montespan, rather 
 than the prayers, the masses and the sober gowns of de 
 Maintenon. And now it is your turn, comrade; let us 
 know something of your escapades, your days of folly 
 in dear old Paris." 
 
 "I have never seen Paris," I answered simply. 
 
 "What! Never been to Paris? Then, man, you 
 have never lived. But where have you spent all your 
 days?" 
 
 "In the colonies Quebec, Montreal, Biloxi. But 
 now I will have an opportunity, for I am going "
 
 ABOARD LE DAUPHIN 21 
 
 I had almost told something of my mission, ere I 
 checked a too fluent confidence. 
 
 Levert, who had been pacing up and down the deck 
 in his absorbed and inattentive way, dropped his blade 
 across my shoulder and challenged me to the foils. 
 
 "No, it is too early yet," Achille replied, "besides, 
 we were talking of other things. As you were saying, 
 comrade, you go ?" 
 
 "Oh, you two talk too much," Levert broke in again, 
 "let us have a bout; I'm half a mind I can handle a 
 foil myself. A still tongue, a clear head and a sharp 
 blade are the tools of Fortune." 
 
 It seemed almost that he had twice interrupted pur- 
 posely to keep me from talking. I thought I read that 
 deeper meaning in his eyes. Somehow I grew to dis- 
 trust him from that moment. What consequence was 
 it to him of what I spoke? 
 
 It was not Levert 's business to govern my tongue for 
 me, so I only said: 
 
 "Nay, we'll try our skill somewhat later; not now," 
 and resumed my conversation with Achille. 
 
 While his manner showed a concern I deemed the 
 matter little to warrant, yet it did make me consider, so 
 I determined not to speak truly of myself. 
 
 "Well, now, comrade, of your own intrigues. You 
 were say ing ?" 
 
 "Nay, nothing of that kind. I journey to Paris sim- 
 ply for my own pleasure." Levert, who half listened at 
 a distance knew I was going to heed his advice, though
 
 22 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 I misdoubted his motive, and again took up his pacing 
 to and fro. 
 
 "Aye, my dear Captain, but 'tis a long trip for such 
 an errand?" 
 
 "Yes, quite a long trip, but I weary of the life at 
 Biloxi, and would amuse myself for a while in France." 
 
 "But the garrison at Biloxi; is that strong enough to 
 spare so good a soldier? then the Indians, do you not 
 fear them?" 
 
 I glanced at him quickly, only half betraying my 
 thought, but replied nonchalantly : 
 
 "No, the Indians are quiet, at least so our scouts tell 
 us, and as for the state of the garrison, you were long 
 enough ashore to know we are strong." 
 
 "Ah, then, there is another motive; a woman. 
 Come, is it not true? Confess?" 
 
 I blushed in spite of myself; it was an idle way I had, 
 for I had seen little of women. My confusion threw him 
 completely off the track ; had I only guessed it, would 
 have taken refuge in that device sooner. 
 
 "No, no, comrade; you are wrong" but still some- 
 how my color came and went like a novice out of the 
 convent. His good-humored raillery continued until I 
 became annoyed in earnest, yet was glad he took the 
 matter so seriously. When Levert passed us again on 
 his walk I spoke to him. 
 
 "Now, my dear Levert, we will try our fortune with 
 the foils if it pleases you." 
 
 "No, my humor is past. Do you try with Broussard ;
 
 ABOARD LE DAUPHIN 23 
 
 methinks he had rather the better of you yesterday. 
 You agree, Broussard?" 
 
 "Yes, yes," he replied, eagerly, "let us at it." 
 
 He fenced rather worse than usual, so I had no trouble 
 in touching him as I pleased. This begat an irritation 
 of manner, and noticing it I suggested we leave off. 
 
 He would not hear to it ; I saw the color slowly leave 
 his face; his thin lips curled back and showed his teeth, 
 until, fearing a serious outbreak, I stepped back as if I 
 would lay aside the foil. He pressed me close, so close 
 indeed I could not if I would drop my guard. He 
 touched me once or twice. 
 
 "I call the bout a draw," declared Levert, who had 
 himself observed Broussard 's unusual energy. 
 
 "Nay, not so, not so; he gives back. I've much the 
 better," and he lunged at me so vigorously I was forced 
 to act with more aggression. The button snapped from 
 the point of his foil ; I cared not, and he affected not to 
 see it, though something made me sure he realized his 
 advantage. I determined now to show him a trick of 
 my own. 
 
 From my youth I had the peculiar faculty of using 
 one hand quite as well as the other, and had often prac- 
 ticed changing my sword swiftly from right to left. It 
 was a simple feat, much more showy than difficult, yet 
 exceedingly bewildering to an adversary. In this in- 
 stance it afforded me an easy means of reaching his 
 undefended side. So I feigned to be driven back, and 
 watching for a more headlong and careless rush, my 
 weapon was apparently twisted from my hand and for an
 
 24 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 instant seemed to hang suspended in the air. I caught 
 it in my left and before he recovered his footing had 
 thrown his foil from him, sending it whizzing overboard. 
 It took but an instant to press my point firmly against 
 his chest, as he stood panting and disarmed. Never 
 was man more surprised. 
 
 "Bravely done," cried Levert. 
 
 "A most foul and dishonorable trick," Achille 
 snarled. 
 
 "Not so," Levert corrected him gravely, looking at 
 me to observe the effect of the insult. I stood still at 
 guard, but made no move. 
 
 "Broussard, you are angry now, and I'll take no 
 heed of your heated words. But to-morrow you must 
 make a gentleman's amends." 
 
 "Tush, tush," Levert interposed, " 'tis the quarrel of 
 a child. He means nothing." 
 
 Broussard said no more, but looked surly and ill 
 pleased. I was secretly elated at the success of my coup 
 against such a skilled swordsman, and only remarked 
 quietly : 
 
 "Broussard, when your anger has passed I trust you 
 will do me the honor of an apology." 
 
 Behind it all I cared little, for I felt myself his mas- 
 ter with his chosen weapon and could afford to be gen- 
 erous. He came up in very manly fashion, after a time, 
 and craved my forgiveness, but we played at foils no 
 more. 
 
 The lookouts were beginning to watch for land, I 
 growing more and more impatient as the end of our
 
 ABOARD LE DAUPHIN 2$ 
 
 voyage drew near. And now I had much leisure to 
 contemplate, and wonder at the strange turn of fortune 
 which had called upon me to play a part in the affairs 
 of state, though what the drama was, and what my lines 
 might be, I could only guess. The story of Colonel 
 D'Ortez, too, furnished me much food for reflection 
 these long starlit nights, when I sat in my favorite seat 
 in the very prow of the vessel. There would I sit night 
 after night, watching the phosphorescent waves rippling 
 against the vessel, gleaming fitful in the gloom; there 
 observe the steadfast stars, and seem alone with dark- 
 ness and with God. 
 
 One wet morning, pacing the slippery deck, the sail- 
 ing master called to me : 
 
 "See, sir, yonder dim outline to the nor'east? Tis 
 the Norman coast ; this night, God willing, we sleep in 
 Dieppe." 
 
 My errand now consumed my entire attention, so I 
 thought no more of my companions of the voyage, bid- 
 ding them both good-night before we had yet landed.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE ROAD TO VERSAILLES 
 
 AT the break of day, rumbling out of the little fish, 
 ing village, I was surprised to see both Broussard 
 and Levert astir as early as myself, each in a separate 
 coach, traveling the same direction. I thought it strange 
 that they chose to go separately, and that neither had 
 told me of his expected journey. However that might 
 be, as it suited my purpose well to be alone, I disturbed 
 not myself with pondering over it. Yet I wondered 
 somewhat. 
 
 The King and Court were at Versailles ; so judging to 
 find Serigny there I turned aside from my first intention 
 and proceeded thither. I was shocked by the universal 
 desolation of the country through which I passed. Was 
 this the reverse side to all the Grand Monarque' s glory? 
 I had pictured la belle France as a country of wine, of 
 roses and of happy people. These ravaged fields, these 
 squalid dens of misery, the sullen, despairing faces of 
 the peasantry, all bore silent protest to the extrava- 
 gances of Versailles. For the wars, the ambition and 
 the mistresses of Louis had made of this fair land a 
 desert. Through the devastated country roamed thou- 
 sands of starving people, gaunt and hungry as the wild 
 (26)
 
 THE ROAD TO VERSAILLES 2 7 
 
 beasts of the forest; they subsisted upon such berries as 
 they found, but durst not touch a stick of their lord's 
 wood to thaw out their frozen bodies. 
 
 Young as I was, and a soldier, the sight of this wide- 
 spread suffering appalled me, though being no philoso- 
 pher I reasoned not to the cause. Yet this was the real 
 France, the foundation upon which the King had reared 
 the splendid structure of his pride. 
 
 It was some time during the second day, I think, 
 when we passed a few scattering hovels which marked 
 the approach to a village where we were to stop for din- 
 ner. At the foot of a little incline the horses shied vio- 
 lently, and passed beyond the man's control. My driver 
 endeavored in vain to quiet them, and then jumped from 
 his box and ran to their heads. I looked out to see 
 what the matter was, and observing a squad of soldiers, 
 followed by quite a concourse of villagers, I sprang to 
 the ground. 
 
 Down the hill they marched, some tenor fifteen fel- 
 lows in a dirty half uniform, I knew not what it was, 
 while straggling out behind them seemed to follow the 
 entire population of the hamlet. The old and gray- 
 haired fathers, the mothers, the stalwart children and 
 toddling babies, all came to stand and gape. In the lead 
 there strode a burly ruffian, proud of his low authority, 
 who shouted at intervals : 
 
 ' ' So-with-the-H-u-g-u-e-n-o-t-s ! ' ' 
 
 Behind him skulked four stout varlets, bearing be- 
 tween them a rude plank, on which was stretched a 
 naked body, the limbs being not yet stiffened in death.
 
 28 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 I hardly credited my sight. Before they came abreast 
 of us I inquired of the driver what it all meant. He 
 only shrugged his shoulders, "A dead Huguenot, I 
 suppose," and gave his care to the horses. Verily this 
 was past belief. 
 
 I placed myself in the road and bade the leader of 
 the procession pause. He stopped, staring stupidly at 
 my dress. 
 
 "What is here my good fellow? what crime hath he 
 committed?" 
 
 He, like the driver, answered carelessly: 
 
 "None; she is a Huguenot." 
 
 "S/te," I echoed, and stopped the bearers who laid 
 their ghastly burden down, having little relish in the 
 task. Yes, it was in very truth a woman. 
 
 "For the sake of decency, comrade, why do you not 
 cover her and give her Christian burial?" 
 
 "It is the law," he replied stolidly. 
 
 "Yes, yes, it is the law," eagerly assented the peo- 
 ple who gathered about the corpse, not as friends, not 
 as mourners, but as spectators of the horrid scene. 
 Among them, unrebuked, were many white-faced chil- 
 dren, half afraid and wholly curious. I looked at them 
 all in disgust. They went their way and came to the 
 outskirts of the village,- where they contemptuously 
 tossed the woman from the plank across a ditch into the 
 open field. In spite of my loathing I had followed. 
 
 I perceived now a feeble old woman hobble up to* 
 ward the body and try with loud wailings to make her 
 way through the guard which surrounded it. They
 
 THE ROAD TO VERSAILLES 29 
 
 shoved her back with their pikes, and finally one of 
 them struck her for her persistence. 
 
 "Pierre, look at her old mother; ah, Holy Virgin, 
 what a stubborn lot are these heretics." 
 
 Her mother ! Great powers of heaven, could it be pos- 
 sible? My indignation blazed out against the inhuman 
 guard. 
 
 "Why do ye this most un-Christian thing?" and 
 to the crowd : 
 
 "Do you call yourselves men to stand by and witness 
 this?" 
 
 At my words one sturdy young fellow, of the better, 
 peasant-farmer class, broke from those who held him 
 and would have thrown himself unarmed against the 
 mail-clad guard. Many strong arms kept him back. 
 He struggled furiously for a while, then sank in the 
 sheer desperation of exhaustion upon the road. As soon 
 as he was quiet the mob, gathering about the more 
 attractive spectacle, left him quite alone. I went up to 
 him, laid my hand upon his shoulder, and spoke to him 
 kindly. He looked up, surprised that one wearing a 
 uniform should show him human sympathy. He had 
 a good, honest face, blue-eyed and frank, yet such an 
 expression of utter hopelessness as never marred a mortal 
 countenance. It haunts me to this day. 
 
 I was touched by the man's sullen apathy, succeed- 
 ing so quickly to the desperate energy I had seen him 
 display, and asked concerning his trouble. 
 
 "Oh, God, Monsieur, my wife, Celeste, my young 
 wife ! Only a year married , Monsieur. ' ' He raised upon
 
 30 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 his elbow, taking my hand in both of his, "We tried to 
 go; tried to reach England, America, anywhere but 
 France ; they brought us back, put us in prison ; she 
 died died, Monsieur, of cruelty and exposure, then 
 they cast her out like some unclean thing; she, so pure, 
 so good. Only look, lying there. Holy Mother of 
 Christ, look down upon her." 
 
 He turned his gaze to where his wife lay and sprang up. 
 
 "She shall not shall not," and cast himself again 
 towards the guard. A dozen men seized him. 
 
 Deeply pained by his misery and the horror of the 
 thing, I made my way to the front, near where the body 
 lay. 
 
 "What is this foul law of which you spoke? Tell 
 me?" 
 
 My tone had somewhat of authority and anger in it, 
 so the fellow gave me civil answer. 
 
 "The law buries a Huguenot as you see such un- 
 holy flesh could never sleep in holy earth. The beasts 
 and birds will provide her proper sepulcher." 
 
 "Nay, but compose her fittingly; here is my cloak." 
 
 "It is not the order of the King," he sullenly replied. 
 The brutal throng again gave assent. 
 
 " 'Tis not the law, 'tis not the law, and bowed their 
 heads at very name of law. 
 
 I remembered the Governor's errand, and could waste 
 no time in quarrel which was not mine, yet willingly 
 would I have cast my cloak about her. I inquired of 
 the man :
 
 THE ROAD TO VERSAILLES 3! 
 
 "And what is the penalty should the hand of charity 
 take this woman from the highway?" 
 
 "On pain of death." 
 
 "Then death let it be," screamed her husband, and 
 breaking through the line of guard, he threw himself 
 upon his wife, protecting her with his pitying garments. 
 
 Whilst I had been talking to the officer, no one ob- 
 served the man come stealthily to the front, coat in 
 hand, until, seeing his chance, he broke through their 
 line. But these staunch upholders of the law would 
 not have it so. They tore him viciously away, and I, 
 sickened, turned from a revolting struggle I could 
 do nothing to prevent. All these long years have not 
 dimmed the memory of that barbarous scene.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE DECADENCE OF VERSAILLES 
 
 IT was nearly noon on the fourth day when I alighted 
 at the Place d'Armes, the grand court-yard of Ver- 
 sailles, and I fear I cut but a sorry figure for a gover- 
 nor's messenger. It appeared that my dress at best 
 was unlike that worn at the court; my fringed leather 
 leggings, hunting knife and long sword differed much 
 from the wigs and frizzes worn by the officers of the 
 guard. However, I made bold to seem at ease and 
 accustomed to court as I addressed the officer of the 
 watch. 
 
 "Can you direct me, sir, to M. de Serigny? I have 
 business with him." 
 
 The man smiled, I knew not at what, and regarded 
 me curiously. I felt my face flush, but repeated the 
 question. 
 
 "M. de Serigny," he replied, "is with the court. 
 Seek him at his apartments. Pass through yonder great 
 gate, turn to the left and inquire of the guard at the 
 door." 
 
 I walked on hastily, glad to be quit of his inspection. 
 Such a throng of fine gentlemen in silks, satins and rib- 
 bons I never dreamed of; even the soldiers seemed 
 (32)
 
 THE DECADENCE OF VERSAILLES 33 
 
 dressed more for bridals than for battles. I held my 
 peace though, walking steadily onward as directed, yet 
 itching to stick my sword into some of their dainty trap- 
 pings. At the door I came upon a great throng of 
 loungers playing at dice, some throwing and others lay- 
 ing their wagers upon those who threw. 
 
 Standing somewhat aloof was a slender young fellow 
 who wore the slashed silver and blue of the King's own 
 guard I knew the colors well from some of our older 
 officers in the Provincial army. They had told me of 
 men, soldiers and hard fighters, too, wearing great friz- 
 zled wigs outside their natural hair, with ruffles on their 
 sleeves and perfumed laces at their throats but I had 
 generally discredited such tales. Here was a man 
 dressed more gaily than I had ever seen a woman in my 
 childhood and he seemed a fine, likely young fellow, 
 too. I fear I examined him rather critically and with- 
 out proper deference to his uniform, for he turned upon 
 me angrily, catching my glance. 
 
 "Well, my good fellow, didst never see the King's 
 colors before? Where hast thou lived then all these 
 years ? ' ' 
 
 He seemed quite as much amused at my plain forest 
 garb, leggings and service cap, as I had been at his 
 silken trumpery. I replied to him as quietly as might be : 
 
 "In our parts beyond the seas we hear often of the 
 King's Guard, but never have my eyes rested upon their 
 uniform before." 
 
 Observing my shoulder straps he unbent somewhat and 
 inquired : 
 
 3 BLACK WOLF
 
 34 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 "Thou bearest the rank of captain?" 
 
 "Aye, comrade, in the service of the King in his 
 province of Louisiana. I pray you direct me to the 
 apartments of M. de Serigny, I would have speech with 
 him." 
 
 He was a manly young lad, of soldierly bearing, too, 
 despite his effeminate dress; he turned and himself 
 guided me through the many intricate halls and pass- 
 ages until we reached a door which he pointed out as 
 Serigny's, where, with polite speeches, he left me alone. 
 
 Monsieur was out, at what business the servant did 
 not know, but would return at two of the clock. In the 
 meantime I sought to amuse myself strolling about the 
 place. I knew I could find my way along the bayou paths 
 of Louisiana the darkest night God ever sent, for there 
 at least I would have through the trees the glimmer of a 
 friendly star to guide me. But here in the King's pal- 
 ace of Versailles, with the winding passages running 
 hither and yonder, each as like the other as twin gaunt- 
 lets, I lost myself hopelessly. 
 
 Clanking about alone over the tiles in great deserted 
 corridors I grew almost frightened at my own noise un- 
 til I passed out into an immense gallery, gaily deco- 
 rated, and thronged with the ladies and gentlemen of 
 the court. I could not make much sense of it all except 
 it seemed greatly painted up, especially overhead, and 
 nearly every figure bore the face of the King. 
 
 From the windows I could see a strange forest where 
 every tree grew in the shape of some odd beast or bird,
 
 THE DECADENCE OF VERSAILLES 35 
 
 being set in long rows, and among them were white 
 images of some substance like unto the Holy Mother at 
 the shrine in Montreal. Some of these graven stones 
 were in semblance of men with horns and goats' legs, 
 and some of warrior women with plumed helms upon 
 their heads. Verily I marveled much at these strange 
 sights. 
 
 The pert little lads who idled about the hall began to 
 make sport of me concerning my dress, and laughed 
 greatly at their own wit. I paid no heed to their fool- 
 ish gibes, there being no man among them. It irked 
 me more than good sense would admit, and I left the 
 hall, and after many vain endeavors made my way out 
 into the open air being right glad to breathe again 
 without a roof above my head. 
 
 I was ill at ease among all these gay gallants who 
 minced and paced along like so many string-halted 
 nags. It was said the King walked much in that way, 
 and so, forsooth, must all his lords and ladies go. Per- 
 haps it was the fashion of the court, but I stuck to the 
 only gait 1 knew, a good, honest, swinging stride which 
 could cover fifteen leagues a day at a pinch. 
 
 Off to one side the water kept leaping up into the air 
 as I am told the spouting springs do in the Dacotah 
 country. I walked that way and was soon lost in won- 
 derment at the contemplation of a vast bronze basin 
 filled with curious brazen beasts, half men half fishes, 
 the like of which I had never seen. Some had horns 
 from which they blew sparkling streams ; others astride 
 of strange sea monsters plunged about and cast up jets
 
 3<5 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 of water. It all made so much noise I scarcely heard a 
 voice behind me say: 
 
 "I'll lay a golden Louis his coat is of as queer a cut 
 as his nether garment whatever its outlandish name 
 maybe." 
 
 "Done," said another voice. 
 
 I gave no heed, thinking they meant not me, until a 
 dapper little chap, all plumed and belaced, stepped in 
 front of me with a most lordly air. 
 
 "Hey, friend, who is thy tailor?" and behind me rang 
 out the merry laugh at such a famous jest. 
 
 I turned and there being a party of fine ladies at my 
 back full gladly would I have retired, had not the young 
 braggart swaggered to my front again and persisted : 
 
 "Friend, let us see the cut of thy coat." 
 
 We men of the forest accustomed to the rough ways 
 of a camp, and looking not for insult, are slow to anger, 
 so I only asked as politely as might be, because of the 
 ladies : 
 
 "And wherefore?" 
 
 "Because I say so, sir," he replied, most arrogantly 
 and stamping his foot, "cast off thy cloak that we may 
 see." 
 
 I still stood undecided, scarce knowing what to think, 
 and being ignorant of fashions at court. De Brienne 
 for that was his name mistaking my hesitation, ad- 
 vanced and laying his hand upon my cloak would have 
 torn it off, had I not brushed him aside so vigorously 
 he stumbled and fell to the ground. 
 
 I had no thought of using strength sufficient to throw
 
 THE DECADENCE OF VERSAILLES 37 
 
 him down. He sprang up instantly, and, furious, drew 
 his sword. I felt my own wrath rise at sight of cold 
 steel it was ever a way of mine beyond control and 
 asked him hotly : 
 
 "How is it affair of thine what manner of coat I 
 wear?" 
 
 He made no reply, but, raising his arm, said, men- 
 acingly : 
 
 "Now, clown, show thy coat, or I'll spit thee like a 
 dog." 
 
 I glanced around the circle at the blanched faces of 
 the ladies, seeing such a serious turn to their jest, and 
 would not even then have drawn, but the men made no 
 effort to interfere, so I only answered him, "Nay, I'll 
 wear my cloak," when he made a quick lunge at me. I 
 know not that he meant me serious injury, but taking 
 no risk my blade came readily, and catching his slen- 
 derer weapon broke it short off, leaving him raging and 
 defenceless a simple trick, yet not learned in a day. 
 It was a dainty little jewel-hilted toy, and I hated to 
 spoil it. 
 
 "Now, sir, thank the King's uniform for thy life," 
 my blood was up, and I ached to teach him a lesson, 
 "I cannot turn the King's sword against one of his 
 servants." 
 
 The ladies laughed now, and the hot flush mounted 
 to my cheeks, for I feared a woman, but their merri- 
 ment quickly died away at sound of an imperious voice 
 saying : 
 
 "For shame de Brienne, brawler!" "And thou, my
 
 3 8 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 young coxcomb of Orleans," he continued, addressing 
 that dissolute Prince: "How dare you, sir, lead such 
 a throng of revellers into the King's own gardens? Is 
 not your own house of debauchery sufficient for Your 
 Grace? Have a care, young sir, I am yet the King, 
 and thou mayest never be the Regent." 
 
 The Duke simulated his profound regret, but when 
 Louis' back was turned made a most unprincely and 
 most uncourtly grimace at his royal uncle, which set 
 them all a-laughing. Whereat all these noble lords and 
 ladies made great pretense of gravity, and ostenta- 
 tiously held their handkerchiefs before their mouths to 
 hide their mirth. 
 
 Already these satellites began to desert the sinking 
 to attach their fortunes to those of the rising sun. I 
 marvelled at this, for the name of Louis had been held in 
 almost Godlike reverence by us in the colonies. Mean- 
 while he had turned to me. 
 
 "Well said, young man; thou hast a loyal tongue." 
 
 "And a loyal master, sire," for it needed not the 
 mention of his name to tell me I faced the King. That 
 face, stamped on his every golden namesake, had been 
 familiar to me since the earliest days of my childhood. 
 
 "Thy name, sir?" 
 
 Kingly still, though a little bent, for he was now well 
 past sixty, Louis stood in his high-heeled shoes tapping 
 the ground impatiently with a long cane, his flowing 
 coat fluttering in the wind. For a period I completely 
 lost my tongue, could see nothing but the blazing cross 
 of the Holy Ghost, the red order of St. Louis, upon the
 
 THE DECADENCE OF VERSAILLES 39 
 
 Monarch's breast, could hear nothing but the grating of 
 his cane against the gravel. Yet I was not ashamed, 
 for a brave soldier can proudly fear his God, his con- 
 science and his King. 
 
 "Thy name," he sharply demanded, "dost hear?" 
 
 "Placide de Mouret, Captain of Bienville's Guards, 
 Province of Louisiana, may it please you, sire," I stam- 
 mered out. 
 
 "Attend me at the morning hour to-morrow," and 
 he strutted away from the giggling crowd. 
 
 I too would have turned off, had not my late antago- 
 nist proven himself a man at heart. He quickly moved 
 toward me holding out his hand in reconciliation. 
 
 "I ask thy pardon, comrade; I too am a soldier, 
 though but an indifferent one in these peaceful times. 
 We mistook thee, and I humbly ask thy pardon." 
 
 Of course I could bear no malice against the fellow, 
 and he seeming sincere, I suffered him to present me to 
 his friends. First among these, de Brienne presented 
 me to His Royal Highness, the Duke of Orleans, "First 
 Prince of the Blood, and the coming Regent of France." 
 
 This latter speech was given with decided emphasis, 
 and a malicious glance toward a pale, studious looking 
 man, a cripple, who, the center of a more sedate group, 
 was well within hearing. The deformed Duke of Maine, 
 I thought, rival of Orleans for the Regency. The 
 ladies I would have willingly escaped, but they would 
 not hear of it, and soon I was surrounded by a chat- 
 tering group, asking a thousand questions about the 
 fabled land of gold and glory beyond the seas. Right
 
 40 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 glad was I when one of the gallants pointed out a 
 thoughtful looking gentleman who walked slowly 
 through the eastern gate. 
 
 "There is M. de Serigny, a brother of Bienville, your 
 Governor." 
 
 "That de Serigny?" I repeated, "then I must leave 
 you, for I would speak with him," and I bowed myself 
 off with what grace I could muster, knowing naught oi 
 such matters. A brisk walk fetched me to Serigny's 
 side. In a few words I communicated my mission. His 
 quick, incisive glance took in every detail of my dress 
 and appearance, but his features never changed. 
 
 "Wait, my dear Captain," he drawled out, with a 
 polite wave of his perfumed handkerchief, "time for 
 business after a while. Let us enjoy the beauties of the 
 garden." 
 
 My spirits fell. Could this be a brother of the stern 
 Bienville, this the man upon whom my governor's 
 fortunes now so largely depended? His foppish manner 
 impressed me very disagreeably, and, in no pleasant 
 frame of mind, I stalked along by his side listening to 
 the senseless gossip of the court. We soon passed out 
 of the gardens into the great hall, and reached his own 
 apartments. 
 
 No sooner was the valet dismissed and the key turned 
 in the lock than his face showed the keenest interest. 
 After satisfying himself of my identity and glancing 
 through the packet which I now handed him, he gave 
 vent to an exclamation of intense relief. 
 
 "Not a day too soon, my dear Captain, not a day,
 
 THE DECADENCE OF VERSAILLES 41 
 
 not a day, not a day," he kept repeating over and over, 
 looking at the different documents. "The King prom- 
 ises to act on this matter in a few days, to-morrow, 
 probably. Chamillard is against us ; he seems all pow- 
 erful now; the King loves him for his truculence. But 
 these will help, yes, these will help." And again he 
 ran through the various papers with business-like swift- 
 ness. His fashionable air and the perfumed handker- 
 chief were alike laid aside. Now I could see the re- 
 semblance between him and his sturdy brother. 
 
 "To-morrow, yes, to-morrow, my lad pardon me 
 the familiarity, Captain de Mouret," he apologized, 
 waiving aside my hand raised in protest. "To-morrow 
 we must act. We must gain the King's own ear. These 
 must not go through the department of war. Chamil- 
 lard will poison the King's mind against us. Most 
 likely they would never reach the King at all. Louis 
 will hardly listen to me even now." 
 
 "Then let me speak to the King," I blurted out be- 
 fore I thought. 
 
 "You?" he repeated in unconcealed astonishment. 
 
 "Yes, I," I replied, for I was now well into it, and 
 determined to wade through ; besides I loved my old 
 commander, and would venture much in his service. 
 
 Then I told Serigny of the occurrence in the garden, 
 or enough to let him understand why I was summoned 
 to the morning audience. 
 
 "Thou art lucky, lad; here half a day and already 
 have an appointment with the King." "Yes," he 
 mused half aloud, "Louis likes such things. He grows
 
 42 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 suspicious with age, and doubts even his ministers. It 
 is quite possible he may question you of affairs in the 
 colonies. If so, speak out, and freely, too, my lad; 
 Louis loves the plain truth when it touches not his 
 princely person or his vanities. God grant that we may 
 win." 
 
 Serigny then told me much of the petty trickery of 
 the court in order that I might understand how the land 
 lay. 
 
 "It may be of service to you to know something of 
 the many webs which ambition, cupidity and malice 
 have woven about us here in this great government of 
 France," he went on, speaking bitterly. "We never 
 dare speak our thoughts, for blindness, silence, flattery 
 and fawning seem surer passports to favor than are gal- 
 lant deeds and honest service. The King grows old, 
 and it is feared his end is near. Of this, men scarcely 
 whisper. His death, as you know, would leave all 
 France to the frail little Duke of Anjou. Looking to 
 this, the court here is already divided in interest be- 
 tween the rivals for the regency, Philip of Orleans, and 
 the Duke of Maine. The Orleans party is the stronger, 
 though the Duke stands accused in the vulgar mind of poi- 
 soning all who may come between himself and the throne, 
 save this Anjou child, who will probably die of sheer 
 weakness. The King has recently had his de Montespan 
 children legitimated and rendered capable of inheriting 
 the crown, though the legality of this action is bitterly 
 contested by the Orleanists. He has also, it is said, 
 left a will in favor of the Duke of Maine, giving him all
 
 THE DECADENCE OF VERSAILLES 43 
 
 real power, while nominally making Orleans the Regent. 
 And strange as it may seem, it is said this will was made 
 at the persistent request of de Maintenon, so viciously 
 hated by the proud de Montespan. But you know she 
 was the teacher of this little Duke, and they are very 
 much attached to each other. Were the Duke of Maine 
 a more vigorous man, there would be no doubt of his 
 success. If 'that little wasp of Sceaux,' as Madame 
 Orleans calls the wife of the Duke of Maine, were 
 the man of the family, she would surely be the Regent. 
 She's a wonderful woman. Madame du Maine hates 
 Bienville because she can not use him in her dealings 
 with Spain. She has duped the Bretons by the prom- 
 ise of an independent provincial government, but Bien- 
 ville stands true to his King. So they seek by every 
 means to discredit him. You may surmise from this 
 how unfortunately our affairs here are complicated in 
 the affairs of great personages, where lesser men lose 
 their lives at the first breath of suspicion." 
 
 After a little I had ample opportunity to observe 
 the man more closely, for he kept his seat to examine 
 at leisure the dispatches I had brought. He was evi- 
 dently not entirely pleased with this inspection, giving 
 vent at times to low expressions of annoyance. 
 
 "Always the same trouble, la Salle and de laVente, 
 spies in Biloxi Ah, here is the fine hand of Madame 
 du Maine, currying favor with the Spaniard in aid of 
 her cripple husband. If we could only make this plain 
 to Louis; this stirring up of strife. Fancy a son of de 
 Montespan on the throne of France. Yes, yes, yes,
 
 44 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 here is the awkward work of our old friend Crozat, the 
 tradesman, who would purchase an empire of the King. 
 See how clumsily he throws out his golden bait." 
 
 I could but listen and observe. Now, more than ever, 
 in the sternness and decision of his countenance he re- 
 sembled his famous brothers, Iberville, Sauvolle and 
 Bienville and yet beyond them all he possessed the 
 faculties of a courtier. 
 
 "Captain, are you acquainted with the nature of these 
 dispatches?" he asked directly. 
 
 "No, sire, only in general, and from my knowledge 
 of affairs at Biloxi." 
 
 "My brother tells me I may trust you." My face 
 flushed hotly with the blood of anger. 
 
 "Oh, my dear Captain, I meant no offense; I speak 
 plainly, and there are few men about this court whom 
 you can trust. There is an adventure of grave impor- 
 tance upon which I wish to employ you. Your being 
 unknown in Paris may assist us greatly." 
 
 I signified my attention. 
 
 "It is supposed we are on the eve of war with Spain, 
 and it is my belief the colonies will be the first objects 
 of attack. Some person, and one who is in our confi- 
 dence, is now carrying on a secret correspondence with 
 the Spanish agent at Paris. Cellamare, the Spanish 
 Ambassador, is concerned in the intrigue. This much 
 we know from letters which have fallen into my hands, 
 and I have permitted them to be delivered rather than 
 interrupt a correspondence which will eventually lead to 
 a discovery of the traitor. We have now good rea-
 
 THE DECADENCE OF VERSAILLES 45 
 
 son to believe that dispatches of a very serious na- 
 ture are expected daily by Yvard Yvard is the Spanish 
 spy" 
 
 "Yvard, Yvard," I mentally repeated, where had I 
 heard that name ? 
 
 "These papers are to give our exact strength at 
 Biloxi, the plans of our fortifications, and a chart of all 
 the navigable waters of Louisiana. We can not afford 
 to let the Spaniards have this information, even if there- 
 by we should capture their agent." 
 
 I maintained a strict silence. 
 
 "You understand le Dauphin is the last vessel over, 
 and no other is expected for months, so we think all 
 this information came over with you." 
 
 When he began I instinctively thought of Levert, who 
 set out alone for Paris just behind me. As he pro- 
 ceeded, the name "Yvard" again fixed my attention. 
 The very name I had heard mentioned by one of the 
 men the morning I left Biloxi. Serigny was right in 
 his surmise, but I let him go on without interruption. 
 
 "If I am correct, these plans will be perfected in Paris 
 before le Dauphin sails again. The spy, whoever he 
 may be, will perhaps want to return in her. Now you 
 can see what I want. You can understand what a help 
 you may possibly be in this matter. You doubtless 
 know every person who came over in le Dauphin, yet 
 you must avoid notice yourself, for they would suspect 
 you instantly." 
 
 I still said nothing to him of the conversation I had 
 overheard, or of my own suspicions, childishly thinking
 
 46 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 I would gain the greater credit by unearthing the whole 
 affair and divulging it at one time. 
 
 "We have some reliable fellows in Paris, and I will 
 send such letters as will put you in possession of all the 
 information they have. You and they, I trust, can do 
 the work satisfactorily, but in no event shall my name, 
 or that of Bienville, be connected with the enterprise. 
 If the matter should come to the King, we would lose 
 what little hold we now have upon him. It is not an 
 easy or an agreeable task. The Spanish spy bears the 
 name of Carne Yvard, a man of good birth, but a gam- 
 bler and a profligate. He is known throughout Paris 
 as a reckless gamester, but no man dare question him, 
 because of his marvellous skill with the sword. He 
 spends much of his time at Bertrand's wine and card 
 rooms, though he has the entree at some of the most 
 fashionable houses in the city, even at Madame du 
 Maine's exclusive Villa of Sceaux. But thereby 
 hangs his employment; we do not know how far Mad- 
 ame is involved in this intrigue with Spain and the Bre- 
 tons." 
 
 Verily I felt encouraged as Serigny unfolded his 
 charming plans for my entertainment. In a strange city 
 to hunt up and dispossess a man like this of papers 
 which would hang him. A delightful undertaking for- 
 sooth ! 
 
 "But we plan in advance, my dear Captain. We 
 must wait the pleasure of the King concerning you. We 
 will renew this subject to-morrow." 
 
 That night I lodged with Serigny.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 LOUIS XIV 
 
 EVEN at this time I remember how nervous I was 
 when I dressed for my interview with the King. 
 What it was for, or how it might result, I could form no 
 idea, so I did not trouble myself with vain thinking. 
 
 Promptly at ten I presented myself at that famous door 
 which led to the room where Louis held his morning 
 levee. Already the approaches were crowded, and the 
 officer on watch was busy examining passes and requests 
 for admission. Some there were who passed haughtily in 
 without even so much as a glance at the guard or the 
 crowd which parted obsequiously to let them through. 
 Most probably favorites of the King, or perchance his 
 ministers. When he reached me the officer of the 
 guard, noting my uniform, inquired: 
 
 "Captain de Mouret of Louisiana?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "You are to be admitted, sir," and I found myself 
 ushered immediately through the opening ranks of Swiss 
 mercenaries into the audience chamber of the King. 
 
 Louis no longer held his levees in the great vaulted 
 chamber into which I was first shown, but in a smaller 
 (47)
 
 48 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 and more sombre room, that of de Maintenon. The 
 character and dress of those present reflected with a 
 chameleon's fidelity the change in His Majesty's habits. 
 Madame sat near the King, working upon a piece of 
 tapestry which, when she was interested in what went 
 on, lay idle in her lap. Behind her chair stood the 
 sour-visaged Jesuit confessor, Letellier. 
 
 Death, which spared not even the Bourbon, had 
 taken away the Dauphin and his son; leaving as the 
 King's successor an infant yet in his cradle. This em- 
 bittered every thought of the King's declining years, 
 made him gloomy, petulant and querulous. And yet 
 there were many men still about him capable of uphold- 
 ing the dignity of the throne. I heard announced, one 
 after the other, Grand Marshal Villars, lately placed in 
 command of all the armies of France; the Duke of 
 Savoy, a famous soldier, but a deserter from the En- 
 glish ; the brothers de Noailles, one bearing a Marshal's 
 baton, the other, cold, cynical, austere, robed in 
 churchly garments, Archbishop of Paris. There were 
 Villeroi, de Tourville, the admiral; and Marshal Tal- 
 lard he who lost the bloody field of Blenheim to the 
 Englishman Churchill. 
 
 I confess I was abashed at the sound of so many 
 great names, and advanced in hesitating fashion across 
 the floor, to kneel before the King. 
 
 "Tut, tut, Captain de Mouret," he said, kindly, 
 "Rise, we would hear somewhat from you touching 
 matters in our Province of Louisiana, and particularly 
 of their safety in case of war say, with Spain."
 
 LOUIS XIV 49 
 
 He then asked a few questions about things familiar 
 to me, which put me quite at ease. What I said I can 
 scarce at this time recollect, but I know I spoke with 
 all a soldier's enthusiasm of my beloved commander, of 
 his diplomacy in peace, of his war-won successes. 
 
 It did not pass unnoticed that many a venomous 
 glance was shot towards me from that little group be- 
 hind the King, but in the King's presence I feared noth- 
 ing, and spoke on, unrestrained. 
 
 Once a tall man whom I took to be Chamillard in- 
 terrupted ; the King motioned me to proceed, and I told 
 him all the strength and resources of the colonies, their 
 weakness and their needs. When I thought I had fin- 
 ished, the King's face hardened, and looking me straight 
 in the eye, he inquired: 
 
 "What is this I hear of Bienville's presuming to criti- 
 cise me me, Louis, his King for contemplating such 
 a disposition of the colonies as suits my royal pleasure? 
 Can you tell me that as glibly, sir?" 
 
 For the moment I was astounded and had no word to 
 say. I could see a faint smile run round the circle as 
 they exchanged glances of intelligence. Serigny was 
 right. The spy had already arrived. His eavesdrop- 
 ping news had reached the King. In my indignation I 
 forgot the man I addressed was the Imperial Louis. 
 Defending my master I spoke vigorously the truth, and 
 that right earnestly. 
 
 "Your Majesty is a soldier, and will forgive a soldier's 
 blunt speech. I beg you, Sire, to consider the services 
 and the sorrows of Bienville's people, the loyal le 
 4 BLACK WOLF
 
 SO THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 Moynes. Where rests his father? Where his valiant 
 brothers, Ste. Heleneand Mericourt? Dead, and for the 
 silver lilies ! Where's Iberville, the courteous, the 
 brave ; he who ravaged the frozen ocean and the tropic 
 seas in his royal master's name? Dead, Sire, of the 
 pestilence in San Domingo. Does the King not re- 
 member his good ship Pelican? Has the King forgot- 
 ten Iberville? Hast forgotten thine own white flag 
 cruising on thine enemy's coast, borne down by four 
 vessels of superior weight? Did the Eagle stretch her 
 wings to escape the Lion? 
 
 Did the Silver Lilies flee before St. George's Cross? 
 No, by the deathless glory of the Bourbon, no ! And who 
 was he that dared following the example of his King, 
 the Conqueror of the Rhine who was he that dared meet 
 such enemies and engage such odds? Whose was that 
 boyish face of thirty, waving his curls upon the quarter 
 deck, with the noble front of a very God of War? Iber- 
 ville ! Who is he that brushes away a tear to gaze upon 
 his stripling brother beside the guns, soon to be exposed 
 by his command to such a fearful danger? Iberville, 
 again ! Who is that fiery soldier, recking nothing save 
 his duty, who seeth without a tremor that beloved 
 brother lying mangled at his post, where the storms 
 of hell do rage, and flames consume the dead? Who, 
 when the enemy lay dismantled, their hulks afire, their 
 colors struck, their best ships sunk, when the glo- 
 rious standard of France triumphant dallied with the 
 breeze who is that dauntless gentleman who kneels
 
 LOUIS XIV 51 
 
 upon his battle-riven but victorious deck and sobs aloud 
 in agony above his writhing brother? Who is this 
 stricken gentleman, who, having won that most heroic 
 fight for his King, now prints a kiss, as a tender maiden 
 might, upon the pale lips of a dying lad? Ah, Sire, 
 it was Iberville, it was Iberville, my King, Iberville the 
 gentle, Iberville the true! Hast thou forgotten that 
 wounded lad who lived to serve his King so well on 
 other fields? Dost remember his name? Let me re- 
 mind you, Sire, that lad was Bienville dela Chaise, your 
 loyal governor of Louisiana. Did the King but know 
 the trials and sufferings of my master in upholding the 
 royal authority, he would forgive him much. Nor do 
 I fear to say it even here, that those men who seek his 
 downfall would as lief line their wallets with Spanish 
 doubloons as with honest Louis d'or. De laVente, the 
 renegade priest, the center of strife and discontent in 
 the colonies, traffics with the Indians and brings oppro- 
 brium upon your Majesty's name. It is he or la Salle 
 who sends this idle tale la Salle, who, from your 
 Majesty's commissary, supplies this de laVente with his 
 merchandise. Who their friends are here to tell your 
 Majesty these tales, I care not. Saving the royal pres- 
 ence, I would be pleased to discuss the matter with them 
 elsewhere." 
 
 "Thou art a bold lad," observed the King. 
 
 I had noted his eyes flash, and the thin nostrils dilate 
 at mention of the passage of the Rhine; so, emboldened 
 by the surety of success, I kept my own courage up. 
 
 "Aye, Sire, truth need have no fear from the great-
 
 52 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 est of all the Bourbons. Bienville is a soldier, not 
 a courtier, and stung beyond endurance by the threat 
 of his enemies that they would yet beguile your 
 Majesty to sell your fair Province of Louisiana, and turn 
 the royal barracks into a peddler's shop mayhap he 
 did use some such hot and thoughtless expressions to 
 me. These, some spy may have overheard and for- 
 warded here to his hurt. If it please you to hear the 
 words, I will repeat them upon the oath of an officer." 
 
 "Go on," he commanded drily. 
 
 "Bienville did say it was a matter of shame to forego 
 such a broad domain wherein lay so much wealth, be- 
 cause of present troubles. It is his ambition to found 
 there a new empire in the west, to add a brighter glory 
 to the name of Bourbon, to plant the silver lilies upon 
 the remotest boundaries of the earth, calling it all Louis- 
 iana, a mighty continent, without a rival and without a 
 frontier. Ah ! Your Majesty has in Bienville a strong 
 heart and a firm hand, a man who prefers to devote his 
 life to your service, rather than live at ease in France ; 
 a man who carries more scars for his King than your 
 Majesty has fingers poorer to-day than when he en- 
 tered your service, though others about him have grown 
 rich." 
 
 I told him, too, without reserve, of the contemplated 
 Indian attack in the spring, of my own haste to return. 
 His face lighted up with the fire of his thought : 
 
 "Then, by my faith," he broke in, "you need a 
 bold, ambitious soldier for your Governor. What think 
 you, Villars, Chamillard gentlemen?"
 
 LOUIS xiv 53 
 
 None dared oppose the King. 
 
 "I overheard you, Captain, in the gardens yesterday, 
 and think the master who has taught you such senti- 
 ments is a man the King of France can trust. Convey 
 to the trusty and well beloved Governor of our Province 
 of Louisiana our renewed confidence, with our assur- 
 ance he is not to be disturbed. We make you our 
 royal messenger for the purpose.' 
 
 Then he gravely inclined his head to signify the inter- 
 view was done. 
 
 As soon as I decently could I left the royal presence 
 and repaired at once to Serigny. I found him still in 
 his apartments waiting me with every appearance of in- 
 tense impatience. Almost as I rapped he had opened 
 the door himself. The valet had been dismissed. My 
 face for I was yet flushed with excitement told of our 
 victory. He grasped my hand in both his own and 
 asked : 
 
 "We have won? Tell me, how was it?" 
 
 "Aye, sir, and nobly. I have the King's own war- 
 rant that our Governor is not to be disturbed." 
 
 Every shade of anxiety vanished, and he laughed as 
 unaffectedly as a girl. 
 
 "Thou art a clever lad; but tell me of it, tell me of 
 it!" 
 
 I told him then of the audience, neglecting not the 
 minutest detail, not even the black looks of those who 
 thronged about the King. 
 
 "Chamillard's doing, and Crozat. Crozat the par-
 
 54 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 venu Marquis du Chatel, forsooth, with his scissors 
 and yardstick for device." 
 
 He questioned me closely concerning the personages 
 present, and what they said. After having heard on to 
 the end he was quite composed and broached again the 
 subject of the previous night. 
 
 "Well, Captain " he commenced, half banteringly, 
 "if thou hast dortc thy conferences with the King, we 
 will talk of your next adventure. Time presses, and 
 you see from what Louis said, our enemies are already 
 at work." 
 
 I hearkened with many misgivings, for I felt of a 
 truth uncertain of myself in this new character and 
 shall I confess it a trifle ill at ease concerning this 
 bravo, Carne Yvard, the duelist of the iron hand, and 
 the gamester with the luck of the devil. However, I 
 put upon myself a steadfast front and listened. 
 
 "We have a fine lad at Paris in our service," said 
 Serigny, "and with him four as staunch fellows as ever 
 dodged a halter. De Greville Jerome de Greville 
 has his lodgings in Rue St. Denis, at the sign of the 
 Austrian Arms. The host is a surly, close-mouthed 
 churl who will give you little information until he knows 
 you well. Then you may rely upon him. Jerome has 
 been watching our quarry these many weeks ; we hold 
 him in easy reach, as a bait to catch his accomplice. 
 Then we will put them both where they can spy upon 
 us no longer. I desire them to be taken alive if possi- 
 ble, and by all the gods, they shall hang." 
 
 Verily, this was a pleasant adventure for me to con-
 
 LOUIS xiv 55 
 
 template, taking alive such a desperado, who handled 
 his sword like a hell-born imp. 
 
 "I would not expose you to this," continued Se- 
 rigny, "but for the stern necessity that those papers 
 should reach me unopened. They are to be delivered 
 to you, and I hold you responsible. You understand?" 
 
 I bowed my acquiescence. 
 
 Then he went on, talking more at ease, though I was 
 far from placid at the prospect. He told me of the dif- 
 ferent streets, the lay of the town, and the various men 
 with whom I would be thrown. 
 
 "Beyond all," and in this I aftenvard acknowledged 
 his foresight, "do not neglect the women, for their 
 hands now wield the real power in France.' 
 
 I must own I thought more on the nature of my new 
 errand than on what he was saying. I felt no small de- 
 gree of distrust, yet, for my honor's sake, kept it to 
 myself. 
 
 "And when shall I set out for Paris?" I asked. 
 
 "To-day; at once. Le Dauphin has already lain 
 four days at anchorage, and we know for a surety that 
 the expected spy has come. We can not act too 
 promptly." 
 
 And so it came about that I left within the hour. 
 
 A carriage had been made ready, and I bade Serigny 
 good-bye in his own rooms. He feared our being seen 
 together too frequently about the palace. 
 
 "But one other thing, my lad," he stopped me as I 
 would go, "you must need have other garb than that. 
 Your harness of the wilderness but ill befits a gay
 
 56 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 gallant in Paris for such you must now appear. You 
 visit the capital to see the sights, understand; a coun- 
 try gentleman Greville will instruct you, the rascal has 
 naturally a turn for intrigue and masquerading. A 
 dress like yours would mark you apart from the throng 
 and perchance draw upon you the scathe of idle tongue. 
 Here is gold to array yourself as becomes a well-to-do 
 gentleman, and gold to spend at wine and on the games 
 withal for, thank Providence, the ancient House of 
 Lemoyne is not yet bankrupt." 
 
 I fain would not take his proffered coins, but he 
 urged them upon me with such insistency that I, seeing 
 the good sense of doing as I was bid, placed them in my 
 meager purse, and with a light heart I set out upon my 
 doubtful journey. 
 
 The fear of which I spoke died away, for since our 
 
 success with the King, my spirits rose, and I deemed 
 
 all things possible. Besides, was I not in the personal 
 
 service of my beloved commander who never knew a fear? 
 
 # * * * 
 
 The postilion whipped up his horses, and we turned 
 towards the old city of Paris, that treasure-house of 
 varied fortunes whence every man might draw his lot 
 of poverty or riches, of fame or obscurity, of happiness 
 or misery as chance and strength directs.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 AT THE AUSTRIAN ARMS 
 
 IT was w*jll Into the night when the first dim lights of 
 Paris came into view, and perhaps some two good 
 hours afterwards before we drew up in front of the 
 "Austrian Arms." 
 
 It was not a new or prepossessing place, yet much 
 better than those I had seen along the road from Dieppe. 
 
 The host well deserved Serigny's appellation of a 
 churl, for he looked suspiciously at me, and when 
 I asked for de Greville replied he knew nothing of 
 him. I could get no satisfaction from him, so I deter- 
 mined to take up my abode and wait. In I went and 
 heeded not the surly host who regarded me askance. 
 
 The small public room was vacant, and I possessed 
 myself of it with the settled air of a man who has come 
 to stay. Verily the fire felt most grateful, and it did 
 me much comfort to stretch as I listed, after the tedi- 
 ous confinement of the coach. Mine host busied him- 
 self about mending the fire, but whenever I raised my 
 eyes I caught his gaze fixed doubtingly upon me. Ev- 
 idently the man knew more than he told, and I planned 
 to test his loyalty. 
 
 (57)
 
 58 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 "Here, my good man," I called to him, "dost know 
 anything of this Jerome de Greville? Where is he?" 
 
 "By our Lady, noble sir, I know him not. Paris is a 
 great city, and many noble gentlemen come and go at 
 their will." 
 
 "But M. de Greville lodges with you, I am told. My 
 business is urgent." 
 
 "I do not recall such a name? Jerome de Greville?" 
 and the rascal turned his eyes to the ceiling in the atti- 
 tude of deep contemplation. I smiled inwardly. 
 
 "If it please you, sir, to write your name in my guest 
 book, should Monsieur de Greville call I will show it 
 him. You may tell me where you can be found." 
 
 He fetched out a worn and greasy book from a chest 
 in the rear, and handed me a pen, watching, as I 
 thought, with some interest, what name I would write, 
 though I much questioned if he could read it. I pushed 
 the book aside. 
 
 "Oh, it matters not, my name; it is an obscure one, 
 and M. de Greville would not recall it. See here my 
 good fellow, here is a gold piece to aid thy memory. 
 At what hour will M. de Greville return?" 
 
 He took the coin, and turning it over and over in his 
 palm, said, as if to it: 
 
 "If Monsieur will write a note and leave it, I will 
 send to other inns and see if such a man be in Paris. 
 Monsieur is of Gascony?" he ventured. 
 
 The Gascons were at this time regarded with distrust, 
 it was such an easy matter for them to carry news into 
 Spain, being on the border.
 
 AT THE AUSTRIAN ARMS 59 
 
 I soon found there was nothing to be gained from the 
 fellow, and becoming convinced of his steadfastness was 
 willing he should keep the coin as earnest money for 
 future services. De Greville not coming in, I grew 
 restive, and concluded I would stroll about the city. 
 Claude, for so the landlord styled himself, directed me 
 to the principal thoroughfare, and I thought by walking 
 straight along one street I could easily return. There 
 was nothing unusual in the neighboring buildings to 
 make a landmark of, so I chose a great round tower 
 not far away, and carefully laid my bearings from that. 
 
 The landlord watched me taking my observations and 
 felt sure I would shortly return ; the more so that my 
 few articles of apparel and necessity were left stowed in 
 the corner by his hearth. These I had purposely so ar- 
 ranged that I could detect any meddling. Throwing 
 my cloak about me I took the way he indicated, and 
 soon passed into a wider and more handsome street, 
 which I came afterward to know. Walking idly on, 
 without thought of distance or direction, I tired after a 
 while, and began to think of getting back to the inn fire- 
 side. I retraced my steps perfectly, I thought, and if 
 my calculations were right should have stood where the 
 broad, well-lighted street I had traversed corners on Rue 
 St. Denis. But the locality was entirely strange, and I had 
 lost sight of the great tower which I thought would guide 
 me home, when a squad of the watch halted me and 
 questioned my errand. 
 
 "I am a gentleman, and officer of the King," I re- 
 plied with such an air they passed on.
 
 6O THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 "I pray you, gentlemen, direct me to the Rue St. 
 Denis, thence I can find my way." 
 
 The man gave me directions which simply confused 
 me, and, ashamed to confess my ignorance, I blundered 
 on to where five or six narrow, crooked streets ran to- 
 gether, branching out like the fingers from my palm. I 
 paused now uncertain which way to go amid so many 
 devious courses, and deciding almost at hazard, turned 
 down the best paved of all those dingy streets. I had 
 hardly gone past more than two cross streets, when 
 there stood at a corner, looking timidly this way and that, 
 a slight girl, with blonde hair and eyes of Breton blue. 
 She seemed so brave, yet so out of place and helpless 
 at that hour of the night, on such an unfrequented road, 
 I almost made so bold as to address her, thinking I 
 might be of service to a lady in distress. But my tongue 
 was not formed for such well chosen words and polite 
 phrases, so I merely held to one side, she standing to 
 the outer edge to admit of my passage. 
 
 At the moment I got opposite her, it seems she had 
 misjudged the width of the pavement, for I heard her 
 give a slight ejaculation, and one foot slipped off the 
 paved way as if she would fall into the muddy street. I 
 passed my arm quickly about her, and raised her to a 
 place of safety, but even then could bring no word of 
 courtly elegance to my assistance. 
 
 She thanked me prettily and daintily, and as I pur- 
 sued my course, I could but turn and give yet 
 another glance in her direction. She caught my eye, 
 and again looking each way, bent her steps down a by-
 
 AT THE AUSTRIAN ARMS 6 1 
 
 way leading off to the left, which we were that instant 
 nearest. There was that in her manner, I could not say 
 exactly what, which led me to follow her at a respectful 
 distance, seeing which she turned her head, and I fancied 
 I could observe a thankful little smile playing about her 
 lips. At any rate she quickened her pace and walked 
 with more assurance, no longer in doubt about her 
 movements. 
 
 For many rods at times she would be lost to view in 
 the dark, and her tread was so light it scarcely made 
 a sound or the great, clumsy clattering I created 
 drowned it entirely. Just at the time I thought I had 
 lost her, I could catch a glimpse of a flitting skirt beneath 
 one of the flambeaux, which, stuck in niches of the wall 
 here and there, lighted old Paris. 
 
 In a very pleasant frame of mind, I strode along be- 
 hind her. It was wonderful, I thought, how readily a 
 woman's intuition recognizes a protector. And I 
 for I must admit I was young then; in the ways of 
 women, far younger than my years I amused myself 
 with many conjectures concerning what manner of errand 
 had taken this young woman abroad alone on such a 
 night. A lady she plainly seemed. Disguised a little, 
 that might be, for her quiet dignity did not fully com- 
 port with the style of her dress. 
 
 A thousand airy castles I built for my fair heroine to 
 live in, and I, like the knightly heroes of the Crusades, 
 was ever her defender, ever her champion in the lists. 
 
 Busied with these fancies and romantic thoughts, I 
 lost count of streets and passages, turning this way,
 
 62 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 that and the other, through many narrow and tortu- 
 ous byways and alleys, until I realized I was hopelessly 
 lost. With my fair guide in front and my good sword 
 by my side, lightly I recked of streets or houses. Yet 
 I dared not forget I was on an errand for the Governor 
 and must not expose myself to bootless peril. 
 
 At last, and somewhat to my relief, she stopped be- 
 fore a great oaken iron-studded gate, possibly of five 
 good paces width, in one corner of which was cut a 
 smaller door so low a man must stoop to pass. Upon 
 this smaller door she rapped and stood in the attitude 
 of waiting. 
 
 I had a moment now to look about me. It was in a 
 quarter of the town that was forbidding. Here were 
 two huge, dismal, gray-stone mansions, separated by a 
 court-yard of probably forty paces across ; a high wall 
 fronted the street, flanked by a tower on either side 
 the gate. On top, this wall was defended by bits of 
 broken glass and spikes of steel, stuck into the ma- 
 sonry while it was yet soft. More than this the flicker- 
 ing brazier would not permit me to see. All of this I 
 took in at a glance ; across the street the murkiness of 
 the night shut out my view. She rapped again, impa- 
 tiently, but in the same manner as before. A trifling 
 space thereafter the smaller door was opened, whoever 
 was inside having first peeped out through a round hole, 
 which closed itself with a shutter no bigger than his eye. 
 
 The lady looked first to me, then stepped inside and 
 stood back as if she bade me enter. 
 
 This was an adventure I had not bargained for.
 
 AT THE AUSTRIAN ARMS 63 
 
 Thinking only to see that the lady reached her destina- 
 tion in safety, here was a complication of which I had 
 never dreamed. What her singular errand was, or 
 wherein she desired my assistance, I could not even 
 hazard a guess. Yet there she stood and beckoned me 
 to enter, and I moved forward a pace or two so I could 
 see within the door. 
 
 The concierge held the door ajar, and a more repul- 
 sive, deformed wretch I never laid eyes upon. His left 
 arm hung withered by his side ; at his girdle he swung 
 a bunch of keys, with any one of which a strong man 
 might have brained an ox. Every evil passion which 
 curses the race of men had left its imprint upon his low- 
 ering countenance. Yet for a moment, when his gaze 
 rested upon the girl, it was as though some spark of her 
 loveliness drove the villainy from his face. He was 
 hardly so tall as she who stood beside him watching me, 
 the semblance of a mocking sneer about her lips. Look- 
 ing past them both I could see what manner of place it 
 was. A smoky oil-lamp sputtered in the rear, suffi- 
 ciently distinct to disclose the paved court-yard, cov- 
 ered with the green slime which marks the place where 
 no sun ever shines. Further than this I could see noth- 
 ing except the tall gray buildings which shut in every 
 side and this wall in front. That door once locked 
 upon the intruder there would be no easy egress. In- 
 stinctively I held back 
 
 "Monsieur is afraid?" she inquired, then tossed back 
 her head, and laughed such a low, disdainful, mean 
 laugh, as fired my every nerve to hear. I hesitated no
 
 64 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 longer. Let come what will, let the Governor's errand 
 look to itself, for no man or no woman could ever laugh 
 at me like that. 
 
 Holding my blade at easy command, I stepped in- 
 side. Immediately the door closed, and the rasping of 
 the key told me it was securely locked as before. 
 Then came regret, but came too late. What I had 
 so foolishly commenced, I must now see finished. The 
 cup had been taken in hand and the dice must be 
 thrown. 
 
 As we came, I followed her again, though at much 
 closer range. We crossed the yard diagonally, across 
 the broken panes, bits of casks, wine bottles and other 
 refuse scattered about. I liked not the aspect of the 
 place. As the girl was about to enter a door leading 
 inside the building, a man came down the inner stairs 
 and passed out, coming in our direction. For the mo- 
 ment he was under the light I had good sight of him. 
 
 A rather low, dark fellow, dressed in the height of 
 the fashion, yet somewhat flashily withal ; not too fop- 
 pish, he was evidently a young gallant of the better 
 class. He staggered somewhat from wine, and carried 
 a magnificent breadth of shoulder, denoting considerable 
 strength. This was my mental catalogue from the 
 glimpse I caught. 
 
 By this time, the lady had got rather within the 
 range of the light; the man came straight at her, and, 
 to my amazement, despite her struggles, seized and 
 kissed her. This was before I could reach them. 
 
 I was upon him in an instant. Another, and he had
 
 AT THE AUSTRIAN ARMS 65 
 
 reeled back against the wall, drawing his weapon as he 
 fell. He recovered his feet, my blade met his, yet each 
 paused, well knowing the deadly lottery of such a duel 
 in the dark. 
 
 The lady ran up as nearly between us as she dared, 
 and besought: 
 
 "Oh, Messires, Messires," she plucked me by the 
 sleeve, "do not fight; there is no need of it." 
 
 "Get out of the way you impudent hussy," he com- 
 manded, "I'll kill your meddling lover, like the varlet 
 hound he is." 
 
 I went at him in earnest. His further insult to her 
 made every muscle a cord of steel. I soon found this no 
 mere sport, for the fellow was a thorough master of his 
 weapon. I was a trifle the taller and had a longer reach ; 
 this, with my heavier blade, gave me well the vantage. 
 Besides I had touched no wine, and my nerves were 
 steady. 
 
 However, I had the light full in my face, and he was 
 not slow to see the annoyance it caused me. I knew I 
 could not maintain such a fight for long, so I pressed 
 him sternly and the bright sparks flew. Backwards, 
 step by step he retreated, until he had almost reached 
 the door out of which he came. I durst not withdraw 
 my eyes from his, yet I had seen the lady run swiftly up 
 the inner stairs, whether for help or for other assassins 
 I could not guess. 
 
 Still back, ever pressing him desperately back, the 
 fight went, and he stood again inside the door, at the 
 very foot of the stair. Now every advantage was mine, 
 5 BLACK WOLF
 
 66 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 for he was well within the glow of the lamp, every move- 
 ment distinctly visible, while I yet stood in darkness. 
 
 "For the sake of mercy, my lord, come quick." It 
 was the girl's voice at the head of the stairs; "there 
 they are. They will desist if you command it." And 
 I heard the heavy tread of two men coming down the 
 stairs, a lighter step behind them. My foot touched 
 something which lay in the dense shadow of the door- 
 step. It felt soft, a package of some kind. Then I re- 
 member seeing something fall from the cloak of my ad- 
 versary forgotten in the heat of the fray. I placed my 
 foot upon it. 
 
 "What quarrel is this, gentlemen? Put by your 
 swords?" 
 
 The voice was that of a man accustomed to obedi- 
 ence. My antagonist stood entirely upon the defensive ; 
 I stepped back a pace and we rested at ease. He 
 leaned heavily against the balustrade ; his breath came 
 hard ; I could see he was nearly spent, so furious had 
 been our short contest. His face showed, besides, the 
 flush of too much wine, or perchance I had not been so 
 fortunate. 
 
 "What mean you, gentlemen? Your quarrel?" 
 
 "I did but kiss the wench, and this fellow set upon 
 me in the dark." 
 
 "Aye, my lord," I replied stoutly, according to the 
 stranger the respect he seemed to command. "A wan- 
 ton insult to this lady whom I met unprotected in the
 
 AT THE AUSTRIAN ARMS 6/ 
 
 streets, and saw her safely to her gate. Who she is, or 
 what, I know not." 
 
 The two men looked at each other, from the girl to 
 me, then burst into such peals of incredulous laughter 
 as roused my anger again. Even my late foe joined in, 
 but faintly. 
 
 "Would either of you, my lords, be pleased to take 
 the matter up?" for I was hot now indeed. 
 
 But they only laughed the more. The lady looked 
 much confused. 
 
 "Thou art not of Paris?" the taller man asked. 
 
 "No, this is my first night in Paris." 
 
 "I thought as much. This lady," the tall man con- 
 tinued in a sarcastic tone, "permit me to present you to 
 Mademoiselle Florine, waitress and decoy pigeon for 
 Betrand's wine rooms, where gentlemen sometimes play 
 at dice." 
 
 He laughed again, and even the girl could muster 
 up a smile now that the danger had blown over. 
 
 "That is true, Mademoiselle?" I asked. She nodded. 
 
 "Then, good sirs, I'll fight no more in such a matter. ' ' 
 
 "And by my soul, comrade, right glad I am to hear 
 you say it; for you fight like a very devil of hell, and 
 Carne Yvard knows a swordsman." 
 
 Carne Yvard ! The very fellow I had been sent out to 
 find, now by a queer chance thrown full in my way. 
 Verily, I was relieved to know I could hold my own 
 against this famous or infamous bravo. Another 
 thing gained ; I knew my man while yet a stranger to
 
 68 THE BLACK WOLF*S BREED 
 
 him. And further, I stumbled on the very place which 
 of all others I desired to find. Truly the chance was odd. 
 
 The two gentlemen upon the stair had not yet 
 staunched their merriment, while these thoughts coming 
 so unexpectedly had swept from me every recollection 
 of the fight. 
 
 "Thou art not of Paris?" the spokesman asked again. 
 
 I heard him as a man hears something afar off, for 
 my foot resting upon the package which had been 
 dropped, sent my mind a wandering again. Could it be 
 that this was a paper of importance, or possibly the very 
 one I desired? Why not? I resolved to possess it at 
 every hazard. Yet were I to stoop and pick it up now, 
 and they saw me, I knew of no means by which I might 
 leave the place in safety. So I carelessly shoved it with 
 my foot farther into the shadow of the step. I answered 
 the question asked me so long before. 
 
 "No, my lord, the city is a strange one to me." 
 
 "Of what place, did you say?" 
 
 Now I had purposely refrained from saying, and did 
 not know what reply to give. I hated to appear boor- 
 ish, besides it would not serve my purpose. My father 
 being of Normandy, I deemed I would have nearly the 
 accent of those people, so I made a venture to say: 
 
 "Of Normandy, sir," in such a way he did not pur- 
 sue the subject further. 
 
 "We thought you no Parisian, or this lady would not 
 have made so easy a conquest," and they laughed again. 
 
 "Do you play?" he queried.
 
 AT THE AUSTRIAN ARMS 69 
 
 "But rarely, my lord," the fact was I knew little of 
 the dice. 
 
 They put about and ascended the stair, the two to- 
 gether, then Yvard, I coming on behind, but not until 
 the packet, from which I hoped so much, was safely in 
 my bosom. This was easily accomplished when Yvard 
 had turned his back. 
 
 We climbed the stair, and after some forty or fifty 
 paces stood inside the room of which Serigny had spoken 
 to me. I could recognize the place from his descrip- 
 tion. 
 
 The gaming tables were ranged about in the center of 
 the room, and about them sat many men and women, 
 too at play. On three sides of the place a row of col- 
 umns ran some four or five yards from the wall. These 
 pillars formed convenient alcoves for those who would 
 sit and sip their wine. Some were curtained, the bet- 
 ter to screen their occupants. Others stood broadly 
 open. 
 
 The four of us walked over to a table well out of view 
 and sat down to wine. It was then I regretted not hav- 
 ing already heeded Serigny's admonition to provide 
 myself with garments more suited to my character, for 
 I felt I attracted some attention as we passed through 
 the room, and this was most to be avoided. 
 
 We seated ourselves about the table and ordered wine ; 
 mine remained untasted while the others drank. I de- 
 termined to touch no wine that night. 
 
 "Comrade, you do not drink," Yvard remarked, "is 
 your blood still hot with the clash of steel?"
 
 70 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 "No, by my honor, that is long forgotten; it is my 
 oath, an oath, too, that can not be broken." 
 
 "Ah, to a lady?" 
 
 I nodded, and he smiled. 
 
 We talked indifferent gossip, and after awhile the 
 Spanish troubles were mentioned ; I think the tall man 
 first spoke of it. Somehow I felt Yvard's carelessness 
 to be assumed, and that he very much desired to hear 
 what these two gentlemen would say on a matter so im- 
 portant. His manner made it plain to me he knew the 
 two gentlemen, and also that they were men of rank. 
 However, they were quite discreet ; while they talked 
 much, yet they said nothing which was not common 
 talk on the streets. After a bit they arose to leave, and 
 I was sorely perplexed whether it were better that I de- 
 part with them, now that papers which might be valu- 
 able rested safely against my breast, or had I better 
 stay and endeavor to learn more from Yvard, who was 
 beginning to drink heavily. Perhaps a little more liquor 
 might loosen his tongue, and I might even capture him 
 or his confederate. Discretion would have taken me 
 away, for that these two gentlemen were powerful 
 enough to protect me in case of trouble in the house I 
 did not doubt. The bearing of the elder man espe- 
 cially was such as to inspire confidence. 
 
 The adventure, though, was too enticing, and the hot- 
 ter counsels of youth prevailed. I bade the gentlemen 
 goodnight, and remained sitting at table with Yvard. 
 It was but a few moments before I regretted my unwise 
 decision.
 
 AT THE AUSTRIAN ARMS 7 I 
 
 Yvard leaned forward, the edge of the table pressing 
 against his breast, and in so doing noticed the absence 
 of the paper which he had forgotten in the fight. His 
 face changed instantly, the drunken leer vanished. At 
 first there was merely a puzzled expression, as of an in- 
 tense effort to remember. He looked swiftly at me. I 
 gave no sign. The two men were gone. His anxiety 
 convinced me of the importance of the papers. He 
 thought for a moment, then excused himself and went 
 out the way we came. As he passed through the room, 
 I saw him stoop and whisper a word to one of the men 
 at the dice table. In a minute the fellow shifted his 
 seat, and though he continued to play, he had taken a 
 position where, as I imagined, he could watch me 
 that I did not leave. I became uneasy now, for I could 
 not tell how many there were, and my principal thought 
 was how to get out of the house. Assuredly not by the 
 way I entered. 
 
 Looking about more carefully to note the different 
 means of egress, my attention was attracted by a carven 
 shield above the main door. The arms were the same 
 as those graven on the locket shown me by Colonel 
 d'Ortez the night I left Biloxi. There, standing out 
 boldly above the door, was the same sable wolf, the 
 crest of the d'Artins. For a moment his story filled my 
 mind again ; but I had no time then for such reflections, 
 and dismissed them to a future period of leisure. The 
 question how to leave the house on that particular night 
 gave me infinitely more concern than the idle specula- 
 tion as to who had probably owned it long years before.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 A NEW FRIEND 
 
 I RAPPED on the table, called a waitress, and ordered 
 a bottle of light wine, which I knew would not 
 hurt me. 
 
 "Send for Mademosielle Florine," and before many 
 seconds were gone that lady presented herself, and 
 perched upon the edge of the table where I sat. Her 
 humor was gay, her laugh was keen; she smiled and 
 asked, "Has Monsieur forgiven?" with such a penitent 
 little look I bade her be at ease. 
 
 "Mademosielle, sit down, I pray you," and she saw 
 by my serious face I was in no mood for chaffing, so she 
 seated herself with a pretty air of attention. I could see 
 the fellow at the dice watching, but now he appeared 
 quite satisfied I intended to stay and drink with the girl. 
 She was evidently a great favorite with the habitues of 
 the place. He looked at me less frequently than at the 
 door, and I guessed he expected Yvard's return. 
 
 Now I grew certain. Yvard had merely gone down 
 the stair to see if he had dropped the papers in the 
 fight. As soon as he found they were not there I felt 
 morally certain he would come and demand them of me. 
 I had begun the game, and must play out the hand. So 
 (72)
 
 A NEW FRIEND 73 
 
 I reached across the table, filled the glasses for myself 
 and Florine, raising mine high as if I would propose a 
 toast. I tapped her banteringly on the cheek, for the 
 benefit of him who watched, and said in a low tone, try- 
 ing to maintain my nonchalant manner. 
 
 "Listen to me a minute, and I beseech you smile, do 
 not look so serious. You brought me here, and now I 
 trust you to get me out alive. Is there any other way 
 than that I came?" 
 
 She looked about her apprehensively, so I cautioned 
 her again. 
 
 "For heaven's sake smile; I am closely watched, 
 and you must laugh and be merry as if I drank with you 
 and made love." 
 
 She comprehended, and well did she play her part. 
 The tones of her voice were light and playful; she 
 lifted the glass to her lips, tasting as a connoisseur, and 
 said between her sips : 
 
 "Yes, Monsieur, there is another way leading out 
 on an alley in the rear." 
 
 "How do you reach it?" 
 
 "The door behind the table where they play for 
 highest stakes leads to the passage. Do but cast 
 your eyes that way and you will see." 
 
 "Then let us" 
 
 "Wait, Monsieur, not yet. If Monsieur would go 
 and seat himself at that table, as if he desired to play, 
 I will slip around and make ready the door for him. 
 Monsieur was kind to me, and Florine is grateful. Even 
 we women here respect a gentleman."
 
 74 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 I pitied the woman from the bottom of my heart. I 
 took out my purse, paid the reckoning, and together 
 we wandered aimlessly toward that table, laughing and 
 looking on at the various games. The fellow watched 
 us as we went, but was pleased, and seemed satisfied 
 the woman but carried out the purposes of her employ- 
 ment. 
 
 I took a seat at the table, laid a wager or two and 
 made myself intent upon the game. Florine stood be- 
 hind my chair for awhile, watched my play, then dis- 
 appeared. After a little she returned and again took 
 her place behind me. Directly she laughed out mer- 
 rily, and in a tone loud enough to be heard by the man 
 who listened as well as watched, cried: 
 
 "Monsieur plays the stakes too low. Fortune favors 
 the brave," and reaching over she took several gold 
 pieces from my store, laid them out and leaned close 
 beside me to watch the throw. In this position she 
 whispered : 
 
 "I have the key to the outer door. The inner door 
 will be unlocked. Monsieur will play twice more, and 
 by that time I will be in the passage. Arise, and when 
 you lay your hand upon the door I will open it from the 
 other side." I lost the throw. 
 
 "Double the wager, and better luck next time," she 
 laughed as she moved off, and joking lightly to different 
 men she knew, made her way beyond my range of vis- 
 ion. During the play I saw Yvard come in hurriedly 
 and question the man at the door. He shrugged his
 
 A NEW FRIEND 75 
 
 shoulders and shook his head. Yvard evidently asked 
 who had passed out or in. 
 
 The doorkeeper then recollected, and I imagined he 
 was telling of the two gentlemen who had just gone 
 down the stair. Yvard stood an instant as if uncertain 
 what to do. He was much agitated and perfectly sober. 
 He glanced toward the table where he had left me. I 
 was gone. He strode over to his confederate, yet en- 
 gaged in play, and made no pretense of concealing the 
 abruptness of his question. The man, in reply, indicated 
 my position at the other table. Yvard appeared some- 
 what relieved. Again he spoke, and this time the man 
 at the table gathered up the money in front of him and 
 replaced it in his purse. Then he cried loud enough 
 for me to hear: 
 
 "What?" 
 
 And sprang up instantly. They both looked at me 
 and held a hurried consultation, then separated, and one 
 going one way, one the other, came over toward where 
 I sat. By this time my second throw was made, and I 
 felt if Florine played me false the game was lost. Yet 
 hoping for everything I rose quietly, and thrusting my 
 winnings in a wallet for I had been fortunate stepped 
 back and laid my hand upon the knob. It was locked. 
 I had no time to think, but saw the whole trick; lured 
 to my destruction, hemmed in beyond hope of escape. 
 Bitterly I repented my folly. 
 
 I have heard men say they faced death without a 
 tremor, and so for that matter have I, yea, many times, 
 but it was upon an honest field in lawful fight for honor's
 
 76 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 sake or duty's. My cheek paled in spite of me, at sight 
 of the men who now came on. Three others with blades 
 half drawn pressed close behind Yvard. How many 
 more there were I had no knowledge. 
 
 It was a sore test to my courage thus to meet the 
 ugly chill of death in a Parisian gambling hell in a 
 place of such ill-repute. But there was no escape, and 
 even if I fell in fight, they would brand me as a thief. 
 Should the papers be found on my body, then honora- 
 ble men would execrate my memory as a traitor to 
 country and to King, for had not Serigny told me htf 
 could not avow my connection with him? The lust of 
 life still surging strong within me, I drew my sword. 
 Its point effectually guarded the narrow space in front 
 from post to post. They parleyed a time, and I rested 
 firm against the door. 
 
 "Come, fellow, thou art trapped; give me up my 
 purse." 
 
 "Spit the thief, run him through," came from one of 
 those behind for the rear guard, beyond the reach 
 of steel, was ever loud and brave. But Yvard, being 
 in front, was more cautious. He well knew the first 
 man who came against me would be badly hurt. And, 
 I rather fancied, he respected my blade. 
 
 As they took counsel together, dozens of voices from 
 the hall swelled the din, yet above it all I caught a light 
 step without. My heart bounded to my throat; I felt 
 the door give way at my back, and before they under- 
 stood what had happened, I was safe on the other side, 
 with the stout oaken boards well locked between.
 
 A NEW FRIEND 77 
 
 I heard Yvard yell: "To the great gate, my bullies, 
 and I will follow here," and at once a great pressure was 
 cast against the door, but it bravely bore the strain. 
 
 "Come," Florine said; and taking me by the hand 
 together we sped through many dark and devious wind- 
 ings, until I stood once more in the open street. 
 
 "Hurry, Monsieur, take that street; it leads to Rue 
 St. Antoine, whence Monsieur can find his way." 
 
 I would have paused a moment to thank the girl, but 
 she bade me haste. I pressed a piece of gold into her 
 hand ; she would not have it. 
 
 "No, Monsieur, not for your gold," and the woman 
 of the wine shop shamed my thought. "Good-night, 
 Monsieur." She kissed my hand, and drew back into 
 the darkness. 
 
 I turned hastily down the street, but had not made 
 more than the distance of three rods when I heard a 
 scream, and looking back saw two men dragging Flo- 
 rine back into the street. 
 
 "Which way did he go?" Yvard demanded fiercely. 
 
 She made no reply. 
 
 "Speak quick or I'll kill you as I would a hare." 
 
 Still she kept her tongue. 
 
 "She makes time for her lover, Carne," the other 
 man suggested, and as I feared he would strike, I called 
 out loudly to them : 
 
 "Here he is," to draw them off from the girl. 
 
 They dropped her at once and started in my direction. 
 I ran on ahead, yet at a disadvantage, for I knew not 
 where to go, knowing, too, that I could not fight them
 
 78 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 both. Yet more than all I dreaded falling into the 
 hands of the city guard with the papers I had upon me. 
 I ran under a street lamp, and taking up a position some 
 twenty feet beyond in the dark, waited. The knife for 
 one, the sword for the other, was my thought. Holding 
 my long sword in my left hand, I swung my right free, 
 and catching my knife by its point, stood my ground. 
 The younger man was swifter, yet seemed afraid to 
 lead Yvard. So they passed under the lamp side by side. 
 
 Selecting Yvard as my mark, I made a quick cast, 
 and had the satisfaction of seeing my knife glitter as it 
 struck him full in the shoulder, and bury itself well to 
 the hilt. It was a trick I had learned from the Indians, 
 and it had not been lost. 
 
 "A million devils, who was that?" screamed the 
 stricken man, tugging to free the knife. Out it came, 
 followed by a widening dark stain upon his doublet. 
 
 "He had others with him hidden in the dark," and 
 at his companion's suggestion, they stood back to back, 
 in readiness for their imaginary foes. 
 
 This gave me an opportunity to slip away, they pur- 
 suing no further. I dodged round the next corner and 
 took my way up a street running parallel to the one I 
 left. 
 
 When they no longer came I slackened my pace to a 
 walk, trying in vain to recall how I came and how to 
 reach Rue St. Denis. There was nothing for it but to 
 keep straight on. The streets grew broader and travel- 
 ers were not so few. I questioned several, and for a 
 coin secured an honest-looking idler to guide me. It
 
 A NEW FRIEND 79 
 
 was not so very far after all to my inn, yet right joyful I 
 was to see the place again and to find a cheerful fire 
 blazing on the hearth. I stood before the homelike 
 warmth and chuckled to myself at the success of my 
 adventure. 
 
 The host and some crony of his sat at table with their 
 cards and ale. I overlooked the game, They ex- 
 changed glances and prepared to leave off, whereat I 
 apologized and begged them not to let me disturb them. 
 Claude declared he had only waited for me, and being 
 tired he would shut the house. He went on up to bed 
 and his friend took a seat beside me at the fire. 
 
 He was a simple-looking young fellow, dressed after 
 the fashion of a peasant farmer, with mild blue eyes, 
 and straggling yellow whiskers on his chin. I thought 
 to question him about the city. 
 
 "Well, friend, how goes the world in Paris? " 
 
 "Much the same as ever, yet your Paris is new to 
 me. " 
 
 "Indeed? You are not of the city; of what place, 
 then?" 
 
 "Of Languedoc, in the south, where the skies are 
 bluer and the wind does not cut you through as it does 
 in this damp Paris of yours." 
 
 "Yes, I thought you of Languedoc, from your 
 speech. So the climate is with us in our parts beyond 
 the seas. Beneath our southern sun ice is a thing al- 
 most unknown, and the snow never comes." 
 
 "And where do you live, my lord?" his eyes wide 
 open and shallow.
 
 8O THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 I felt somewhat flattered at his artless recognition of 
 the difference in our stations. 
 
 "In Biloxi; the Southern Provinces, Louisiana," I 
 explained, "whereof Bienville is governor." 
 
 Afterward I thought I could remember a knowing 
 twinkle in the fellow's eye, which passed unnoticed at 
 the moment. 
 
 "Ah, I hear much of the colonies; it must be a 
 goodly land to dwell in, but for the savages and the 
 cannibals." 
 
 I laughed outright. 
 
 "Verily, friend, we have no cannibals worse than the 
 barbarous Spaniards who wait but the chance to 
 slaughter our garrison," and before I was aware, I had 
 told him of my voyage from Biloxi, and of going to 
 Versailles, stopping short only of giving the purpose of 
 my visit to Paris. I was sore ashamed of the indiscretion. 
 When I looked I found him laughing silently to himself, 
 laughing at me. 
 
 "Then you are Captain de Mouret?" he asked with 
 purest Parisian intonation, and the courtesy of a gentle- 
 man. 
 
 "How do you know?" I attempted to be stern, but 
 somehow my effort fell flat. "How do you know?" 
 
 "Well, I've been expecting you," and he brushed 
 his hand across his chin, wiping the yellow whiskers 
 away before my astonished eyes. 
 
 "I am Jerome de Greville. Claude told me of your 
 coming, but I wished to make sure. We have ex- 
 amined your baggage," he went on frankly, unmindful
 
 A NEW FRIEND 8 1 
 
 of my ill-concealed disapproval, "but found nothing in 
 the way of identification. You see," he apologized, 
 "these things are necessary here, in affairs of this nature, 
 if a fellow would preserve the proper connection between 
 his head and his body." 
 
 He rolled up his whiskers, laid aside a yellow wig, 
 and I could see he was as Serigny had described. He 
 was not as tall as I, but strongly built, and some two 
 good years my senior. 
 
 "Captain, if you will allow me I will take these traps 
 of yours to our apartments. You lodge with me." 
 
 I was nettled that I should have spoken so freely to a 
 stranger, and felt ill-disposed to be pleasant, but he soon 
 drove away any lingering animosity. 
 
 When we had settled in our rooms, which adjoined, 
 de Greville threw himself across his couch and said : 
 
 "Look here, de Mouret, we have a hard task before 
 us, and you may as well know it. M. de Serigny tells 
 me he has instructed you himself, but details he would 
 leave to me. What's your name?" 
 
 "Placide," I replied as simply as a lad of ten. 
 
 "Well, I'm Jerome. We are to stand together now, 
 and men engaged in business like ours have no time for 
 extra manners." 
 
 His ban camaraderie was contagious, and I gladly 
 caught it. "Agreed, Jerome; so be it. Go on." 
 
 "First we must locate our friend Carne Yvard, the 
 very fiend of a fellow, who stops at nothing. Then to 
 catch him with the papers, take them, cost what it will. 
 6 BLACK WOLF
 
 82 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 For that work we have strong lads enough and true. 
 Above all we must make no mistake when we strike, 
 for if he scents our suspicions of him he'll whisk them 
 off to Spain before you could bat your eye." 
 
 I listened to him intently, yet enjoying to the utmost 
 my prospective triumph. He went on: 
 
 "Then there is that other fellow; we don't know who 
 he is, the one that came over with you. He will prob- 
 ably exchange dispatches with Yvard, then off to the 
 colonies again. There is not so much trouble about 
 him, for he can be captured aboard ship. It is Yvard 
 we want, and his dispatches." 
 
 I said very quietly, still looking into the fire : 
 
 "That much is already done." 
 
 Jerome raised up on his elbow and stared at me as if 
 he thought me mad. 
 
 "I have taken those dispatches from your friend. 
 Here they are." 
 
 "The devil you have," he cried out, reaching the 
 middle of the floor at a single bound. "How and 
 when?" 
 
 He would not leave off until I had related the whole 
 of my adventure beginning with meeting the girl, and 
 ending when I found him, at the inn. He was as 
 happy as a school-boy, and laughed heartily at my be- 
 ing so readily made a victim of by the girl Florine. 
 
 "Such tender doves to pluck she does not often find, 
 and I warrant you she lets not many go so easily. ' ' 
 
 I thought it unnecessary to tell him of my encounter
 
 A NEW FRIEND 83 
 
 with Yvard, only that I had found the packet where he 
 dropped it. 
 
 "You lucky dog; it's well he did not see you, or 
 you might not now be talking to me with a whole skin." 
 
 It was better though to let him know of Yvard 's 
 wound, for that would perhaps assist us in a measure to 
 determine upon our future course. So that part of the 
 affair I detailed in full. 
 
 "Verily, lad, your savage accomplishment stood you 
 in good stead." 
 
 He recognized the description I gave of the fellow 
 with Yvard, but said he was a bully, hired merely to 
 fight, and perhaps knew nothing of consequence. Then 
 we examined very closely the envelope containing the 
 papers. It had, from all appearance, come over from 
 the colonies, and bore traces of having long been car- 
 ried about a man's person. This settled one matter. 
 The go-betweens had met, and the traitor on le Dauphin 
 was most likely in possession of the instructions from 
 Spain. This made his capture the more important. 
 
 De Greville well merited all Serigny had said of his 
 shrewdness, and more. Now see what a simple scheme 
 he laid. 
 
 We were first to find where Yvard was hidden. He 
 would certainly go into hiding until his wound was 
 healed ; the finding of the papers upon him making it 
 necessary he should not be seen in Paris. 
 
 Where would he be likely to secrete himself? Ah, 
 trust a woman for that; so reasoned Jerome. What 
 woman? L'Astrea, of course. Of her intrigue with
 
 84 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 Yvard, de Greville, who was a handsome gallant with a 
 smooth tongue, had learned from a waitress at Bertrand's. 
 This was the more probable because, Bertrand's being a 
 public place, the confederate could seek him there with- 
 out suspicion. This confederate being unknown and 
 unsuspected could come and go unchallenged. Jerome's 
 deductions were plain enough when he told me these 
 things and the wherefore. 
 
 It was agreed our plan would be to watch L' Astrea ; 
 she at least would enable us to find Yvard, or his ac- 
 complice whom we most wished to discover. 
 
 Who would do this? Why I, of course, for no one 
 knew me, or would know me when I had wrought the 
 miracle of shining boots, blue coat, curly wig, laces at 
 throat, in all which small matters Jerome was a con- 
 noisseur, and so it was laid out with much care ; run 
 the quarry to earth, then continue the chase as needs 
 demanded. 
 
 Yet folly of follies; how lightly are such well ar- 
 ranged plans broken into. Through a woman came all 
 this scheming, by a woman's hand it was all swept into 
 naught. Both innocent of intention, both ignorant of 
 effect. Yet it was true. Jerome and I, as we then 
 thought, disposed our pieces with great care and cir- 
 cumspection, advanced the pawns, guarded the king, 
 and made ready for the final checkmate. Yet a woman's 
 caprice overturned the board, scattered our puppets far 
 and wide, and by the tyranny of an accident recast our 
 game on other lines, without rule or rhyme or reason.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 MADEMOISELLE 
 
 IN the morning of the following day we were engaged 
 about a business which troubled me no little. Had 
 it not been for Jerome I fear I had never come through 
 it at all with credit. 
 
 First, we repaired to another house which Jerome 
 possessed in a more fashionable quarter, and thither by 
 his directions came a fawning swarm of tailors, boot- 
 makers, barbers, wig-makers; vendors of silken hose 
 and men with laces, jaunty caps, perfumes it was a 
 huge task, this making a gentlemen of me as Jerome 
 phrased it. 
 
 I worried over it grievously in the beginning, but at 
 length sullenly delivered myself into his hands, murmur- 
 ing an abject prayer for the salvation of my soul. That, 
 at least, was not to be remodeled by all their fashion- 
 able garniture. These heated discussions concerning 
 what I was to wear were not for me to put a voice in. 
 Verily, I knew nothing and cared naught for the cut of 
 a shoe my Lord of Orleans had made the style, nor did 
 it matter whether my coat was slashed with crimson or 
 braided with golden furbelows. Like some wretch 
 a-quivering of the palsy I heard the learned doctors 
 (85)
 
 86 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 wrangling over my medicine, which they must needs 
 hold my nose to make me swallow. For all their biases 
 and twistings I knew full well they could carve no sprig 
 of fashion from so rough a block as I. Certes, I must 
 now have a squire to fasten this new harness well upon 
 me, for by my word, I knew not one garment from the 
 other by sight of it. Jerome went off into fits of laugh- 
 ter seeing me trying to struggle into things I could not 
 even guess the use of. 
 
 When the worst was over, late in the afternoon, I felt 
 like a play-actor, dressed for his part, but who, for the 
 life of him, could not recall one syllable of his speech, 
 nor breathe because of his wig. Jerome surveyed me 
 with a half-critical, half-approving scrutiny, until I es- 
 sayed to buckle on my sword. 
 
 "By my lady, fine sir, that dingy old cutlass will 
 never do for a drawing-room. As well a miller's dusty 
 cap to cover those glorious borrowed curls of thine ; we 
 must get thee one shaped in the mode." This quip 
 exterminated my patience. 
 
 "To the foul fiend with all this everlasting style of 
 thine. I know this blade, have tested it on many fields, 
 and by all the gods t once I'll not replace it with a 
 silly toy." 
 
 "A most virtuous resolution, a most godly oath, but 
 my mettlesome friend, I'll point out thy error." 
 
 To his insinuating argument, even in this matter, at 
 length I yielded ; surrendered with the better grace per- 
 haps, that he provided a most excellent piece of steel, 
 which he said had seen good service. I tried its tern-
 
 MADEMOISELLE 8/ 
 
 per, and the edge being keen, I laid my own aside with 
 sore misdoubtings, casting off an old friend to strap on 
 a new. He now added a touch of rouge here and 
 there, a black line to my brows and in the corners of my 
 eyes, stepping back ever and anon to observe the effect. 
 It galled me raw, yet I must perforce submit. When 
 the whole job was finished, and I was allowed to sit, I 
 gained no comfort. My clothes were too tight in some 
 places, while in others I rocked about as loose as a 
 washerwoman's arm in her scrubbing tub. 
 
 Jerome must now give me some lessons in deport- 
 ment, he called it. It was but another name for a 
 smirking and a-bowing and a-grimacing, what was de- 
 nominated the "etiquette of the court." Jerome sat 
 himself contented down, and put me through my paces 
 like some farrier showing off a foundered nag. I more 
 than half believed he was all the while making game of 
 me, yet I knew no better. At any rate it was the veriest 
 nonsense. 
 
 After a series of rehearsals Jerome withdrew to make 
 himself ready, leaving me to practice my new acquire- 
 ments of gait, of gesture, and of speech. What had 
 taken me the better part of a laborious day he accom- 
 plished in a short half hour. Coming back unannounced 
 he caught me bowing and scraping before a mirror, like 
 a man stricken with idiocy. I felt as shamed as though 
 I had been detected hiding in face of the enemy. 
 
 Jerome mocked and taunted me into a fine rage, 
 which he deftly pacified in wonderment at himself. I 
 should never have known him again for the plain Jerome.
 
 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 Arrayed in much the same character of finery which be- 
 decked me, I could give no accurate description of his 
 dress, except that with glossy wig and a bit of color in 
 his cheeks he strutted valiantly as a crowing cock in his 
 own barnyard. 
 
 "Come, Placide, we are going to a ball; we can do 
 nothing in our quest to-night." 
 
 "To a what?" 
 
 "A ball. I thought it might be well to have you 
 look in upon Madame M 's and recite your lessons. 
 It is to be a famous gathering and well worth your seeing. ' ' 
 
 I was in a whirl, a stupor, by this time, and obeyed 
 implicitly; beside, it required such an infinite skill to 
 keep my sword from swinging between my legs and 
 throwing me down, I had no time to consider of minor 
 matters. He led the way and I followed meekly as a 
 lap-dog. 
 
 At the great entrance gate we became entangled in a 
 medley of soldiers, coachmen, torch-bearers and serv- 
 ants coming and going such a babel of strange oaths 
 I wished I were safe again in the quiet of Biloxi. I 
 pleaded with Jerome to turn again, but he was inexor- 
 able. 
 
 "I expect to find out something to-night," he ex- 
 plained. 
 
 Of this ball I remember nothing but that the slippery 
 floor, in which a man could see his own face, kept me 
 in deadly fear lest my sword trip me. Jerome was gay 
 and talkative, pointing out many people of whom I had 
 heard, but they did not look so great after all.
 
 MADEMOISELLE 89 
 
 "For sake of heaven man, wear not so long a face; 
 it is not the funeral of thy mistress I have brought thee 
 to." 
 
 I marveled that so many old ladies should carry 
 such young faces or perchance their hair had turned 
 gray earlier than was its wont in the colonies, And, too, 
 they seemed sadly disfigured with boils, for on the chin 
 or cheek of nearly every one there showed a patch of 
 black sticking-plaster. Poor things ! I sorrowed for 
 them, it was so humiliating. Verily, I pitied them all, 
 and speculated on the wonderful compensations of Prov- 
 idence. With all their wealth and rank, their lordly 
 castles and their jewels, these noble dames could not 
 purchase that which the humblest serving-maid in Que- 
 bec had, and to spare a clear skin and sunny locks. 
 
 I touched upon these matters to Jerome, but he only 
 laughed immoderately. He was ever a light-headed 
 young spark who gave no contemplation to deeper 
 questions than present enjoyment. 
 
 Of a sudden my wits almost left me at a terrible out- 
 cry from one end of the great hall, a cry not of human 
 beings but of wild beasts, muffled and menacing. The 
 dancing, the music, the hum of voices ceased, and a 
 thick silence as of direst fear fell upon them all. Then 
 there came a loud crackling and shattering of glass, a 
 woman's scream, the first of very many. This for 
 aught I know might have been a usual happening at a 
 ball, I had never been to one before. 
 
 I looked for Jerome. He was gone, speeding toward 
 a young lady surpassing fair, with whom he had been
 
 90 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 speaking but a few moments since. I fain would have 
 assisted him, for the damsel appeared wofully beset, but 
 the whole throng of mincing lords and screaming ladies, 
 in the rankest riot, over-ran me. They swept me from 
 my feet and bore me back to the farthest wall, where I 
 found myself pinned tight and fast against a window. 
 
 What the danger was I could not see, but it must 
 have been dolorous from the headlong terror of their 
 flight. Soon by the thinning of the crowd through the 
 doors I saw the cause. It was a motley and a moving 
 spectacle. For by some mischance a flock of sheep had 
 broken into the ball-room, and frightened out of their 
 shallow senses by the lights and music, they rushed pell- 
 mell here and there, upsetting without discrimination 
 whatever stood in their path. 
 
 Verily such an onset would do brave work against an 
 enemies' ranks, for could our knights but make a gap 
 like that, an army of children might march through un- 
 hindered. All went down alike before their charge, my 
 lord and my lady, the Prince of the Blood, and the 
 humblest page who bore his pouncet box. Such a slip- 
 ping and a sliding across a floor slickened with much 
 wax and polishing, was never in a ball room before, nor 
 ever was again. One old ram regarded each mirror as 
 a certain avenue of escape, and the radiating fracture of 
 each taught him no greater wisdom concerning the 
 others. 
 
 Standing spellbound as a statue in the midst of the 
 ruins, I caught sight of a florid, rotund lady, speechless 
 in her horror and her misery.
 
 MADEMOISELLE pi 
 
 "The Duchess does not enjoy her quaint surprise," 
 laughed a light voice behind me, and a slim finger di- 
 rected my gaze toward the lady whom I had just noted. 
 
 I observed then at my back, standing upon a chair 
 where she could see the better, a young woman of dis- 
 tinguished appearance, rather more plainly attired than 
 the balance. She appeared greatly to enjoy the con- 
 fusion. 
 
 "That is the reward for her romantic and pastoral 
 tastes," and she laughed till the tears dripped down 
 her cheeks. Her hair was still black, and neither 
 paint nor sticking plaster marred the whiteness of her 
 skin. I asked no questions, but regarded more closely 
 this young woman with whom I now drifted naturally 
 into conversation. Her manners were strikingly free 
 and unconstrained. There was, however, an air of re- 
 serve, of dignity of majesty even about her, despite 
 her frankness, which forbade anything but the utmost 
 deference. 
 
 "Does my lord understand that?" and she pointed 
 her finger to the servants who were chasing and captur- 
 ing the refractory sheep one by one. 
 
 I shook my head, for, in all seriousness, it was a queer 
 proceeding. 
 
 "Well it's too merry a jest to keep long a secret. 
 Beside I'm weary of these eternal shackles of court 
 which forbid me to speak to those wh:>m I please." A 
 certain defiance gave an undercurrent of sadness to her 
 voice, a mounting rebellion to her tone.
 
 92 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 "And I will talk if I want to; there's no harm, is 
 there?" 
 
 I gravely assured her not, and wondered what was 
 coming. 
 
 "Well, you see," she dried her eyes on a hand- 
 kerchief of costliest lace, "you see my that is, the 
 Duchess, is of such a romantic temperament, so enam- 
 oured of rural scenes, idyllic meadows, pretty shepherd- 
 esses, and the like all the court makes merry at her 
 foible. She thought to astonish Paris to-night by a lav- 
 ish display of sweet simplicity did Monsieur see it? 
 That big dark place back there, behind the glass parti- 
 tion, was arranged as a meadow, with a stream winding 
 through it, and rocks and trees, and what not. She had 
 a flock of sheep washed clean and white, penned up and 
 in waiting. At a signal from her during the ball, lights 
 were to have been turned on, and Mademoiselle, the pretty 
 opera singer, was to come gracefully down a curving 
 pathway, dressed as a shepherdess, singing and leading 
 her sheep. Oh, it was to be too pure for this earth. 
 The Duchess fretted for the opportune time. But the 
 sheep escaped from their keepers, and, oh, isn't it too 
 ludicrous?" 
 
 Thus she chattered on with the naive freedom of any 
 other young demoiselle. I agreed with her, and was 
 inwardly glad the affair turned out an accident, for were 
 this the custom of balls I'd go to no others. 
 
 We continued to chat gayly together; she was of a 
 lively wit, and surprised me by her knoAvledge of dogs 
 and horses, of the chase, of sword play and of fire-
 
 MADEMOISELLE 93 
 
 arms. Odd tastes for a gentlewoman, most of all for 
 one of her exalted rank. Of this latter I had no doubt. 
 I knew none of the people she mentioned, nothing of 
 the drawing-room gossip, and she very naturally re- 
 marked. 
 
 "My lord is a stranger?" 
 
 "Only yesterday in Paris," I assented. 
 
 "From what place comes my lord?" and for the 
 second time in a day I was driven to a direct lie. 
 
 "From Normandy," I replied. 
 
 "To live in Paris?" 
 
 "No, unfortunately; my affairs will be finished in a 
 few days at most. Then I return to the country." The 
 lady was pensive for a space, hesitated in a pretty per- 
 plexity and then spoke doubtfully. 
 
 "You can be of a service to me if you will." 
 
 I immediately signified my willingness to render her 
 aid, in the courtliest speech I could muster. She looked 
 at me long and seriously again, then again pursued the 
 subject of her thought. 
 
 "It is a mere woman's whim, but /gratify my whims. 
 Perchance it is not a proper wish for a lady of birth, 
 yet I have it, and if you will but aid me, I will carry it 
 through." 
 
 Moved as much by curiosity as by any other motive, 
 I inquired of her what so weighty a matter could be. 
 
 "Come, let us go into this ante- room that we may 
 converse undisturbed," she said, and led me into a 
 quiet corner where there were seats. I would have
 
 94 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 thoughtlessly taken a place by her side, forgetful of 
 Jerome's teachings, but she commanded coldly: 
 
 "Monsieur will stand." 
 
 And I stood. 
 
 "You are a stranger in Paris, you seem a man of 
 honor; for those reasons I choose you. I would not 
 care to have one of my own gentlemen know what I 
 wish to do. All Paris would talk of it to-morrow. We 
 in the palace see naught of the common people, and I 
 have long dreamed it would be a brave adventure to go 
 unknown among them, to their inns and gathering 
 places. I have always desired to know more of our 
 Paris, especially one place which I hear mentioned fre- 
 quently of late. My position will not permit me to 
 visit it openly you understand." 
 
 I protested that knowing naught of the streets I 
 should be but a blind guide. 
 
 "I know where I would go," she said, determinedly, 
 brushing aside the difficulties I would suggest, "and I 
 will go; you will go too." 
 
 I was vastly troubled at this, for might it not lead to 
 such another escapade as came so near costing me dear? 
 Her eyes fixed full upon me, her voice blended a com- 
 mand which no man dared disobey, with an entreaty 
 which none would willingly run counter to, and I gave 
 reluctant assent. 
 
 "Will you await me here?" she demanded rather 
 than asked. "My apartments are in this building. I 
 will return very briefly." 
 
 When the lady came back she would never have been
 
 MADEMOISELLE 95 
 
 taken for a woman ; her long cloak, such as men wore, 
 reached to her boots, identical in all respects with my 
 own. Her hat, plume and sword were correct and 
 bravely worn. Her maid, a trifle nervous over the ad- 
 venture, but who said nothing, bore a similar cloak for 
 me, and held two masks in her hands. 
 
 "Will my lord throw this about him?" and without 
 any question I assumed the cloak. 
 
 "Now this," and she handed me a mask while she 
 affixed one about her own face. 
 
 I demurred to the mask. 
 
 "I will not take my lady upon an errand where we 
 can not show our faces." 
 
 She laughed merrily, and replied: "It is the way of 
 Paris, my lord, and naught is thought of it. Many lords 
 and ladies wish to keep their faces from the canaille." 
 
 I drew a breath of resignation and put it on. 
 
 "Am I not a comely man?" the lady asked, one 
 touch of woman's vanity showing through it all. 
 
 "Yes, by my faith, madame;" but such sayings were 
 foreign to my awkward tongue. 
 
 She led me out of the palace by a private way, and 
 when the street was reached we walked along as two 
 men would. She directed our course, and as she gave 
 no hint of her destination I did not inquire. It was but 
 a brief walk before we came to an arched door on a side 
 street, and there she paused and looked carefully about 
 to see that no one watched us and then in we went. 
 
 The lady seemed in highest spirits over her unac- 
 countable prank, and laughed girlishly. "Now I will
 
 96 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 gratify my curiosity. You know I admit my curiosity, 
 sometimes. These men are not alone in their thirst for 
 excitement. It is so tiresome at court, ever the same 
 thing day after day." 
 
 We had now come into a fairly wide, well-lighted 
 hall, and an obsequious attendant showed us up a stair, 
 and opening a door, pointed out the place she asked 
 for. Imagine my utter astonishment when we stood 
 together within the gaming room at Bertrand's. What 
 an infernal fool I had been to be tempted back into this 
 very place of all others. I thought at once it was some 
 cowardly trick of Yvard's. I seized the woman by the 
 arm, for I supposed her then but another decoy; there 
 was no telling how far this Spanish intrigue had gone or 
 what high personages Madame du Maine might be able 
 to enlist in furtherance of her schemes. I seized her 
 firmly, and had taken one step back towards the door 
 again, when her cold ringing voice undeceived me. 
 
 "What means my lord; I thought him a gentleman. 
 Shall I appeal for protection to these low men here?" 
 
 There was such a truth in her low tones that I cast 
 her free, and in some measure explained my thought. 
 
 "Well, well, we'll not quarrel here," and looking 
 about her with eager curiosity, she chose a table where 
 fewest players sat, and thitherwards we went. This 
 table was placed rather apart from the others, against a 
 pillar, and no gamesters sat on the side next the wall. 
 It left but scant space to sit between. There we took 
 our places, and the lady tumbled out a purse well filled 
 with gold pieces, handed some to me and bade me play.
 
 MADEMOISELLE 97 
 
 She laid her wagers, and won with the glee of a child, 
 her face alternate flushed and pale. I could see I 
 wronged her by supposing her in league with the place. 
 She played in too feverish earnest. 
 
 During this while I had observed the same two 
 men who had met me on the stair the previous night. 
 They were walking about and carelessly looking on at 
 the different games. Yet for all their nonchalance there 
 was a well-defined method in their procedure, that at- 
 tracted my attention. The taller man scanned every 
 person in the hall, and when the lady and I came in he 
 watched us intently. 
 
 His companion the same as on the previous night 
 withdrew to talk. After some consultation they reached 
 a decision. Together they came our way, and the tall 
 man clapped his hand twice. 
 
 At the signal, for such it was, from every table rose a 
 man or two, and ranged themselves about him who 
 called. I could also see a guard suddenly stationed, as 
 if by magic, at each point of exit. Where, here and 
 there, a cloak was thrown back, the gleam of a uniform 
 showed beneath. 
 
 "There, my lads, is our quarry; take them," com- 
 manded the tall man, pointing to us. 
 
 I cursed myself for a silly fool to run again into such 
 danger. 
 
 The dispatches in my bosom would hang me, and I 
 dared not explain my possession of them. It was plain, 
 too, that the King's officers, as well as Serigny, had 
 7 BLACK WOLF
 
 98 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 their suspicions of the place. It was too late now for 
 penitence, it was time to act. 
 
 The lady arose so trembling and frightened that my 
 courage all came back to me. She forgot her gold 
 pieces lying on the table in front of her. 
 
 "My lord," she whispered, "you must protect me; 
 it would be the scandal of all France were I to be dis- 
 covered in such a place." 
 
 Her appeal made me forget my own imminent dan- 
 ger, and I bethought myself what best to do. They 
 could approach me by but one side, and while I 
 considered a parley with the officers, heard a glad lit- 
 tle cry from the lady. She calmly gathered up her 
 gold and restored it to her purse, as if the matter were 
 already settled, though I could see no change in the 
 front of those around us. As the soldiers would have 
 pulled the table away, she bade them wait, and said: "I 
 would speak to your leader." 
 
 The tall man asked: "And what would you say? We 
 have no time to talk." 
 
 "It is not to you, I know you both; I would speak 
 to my lord by your side. " 
 
 With that, the other, who had remained rather in the 
 background, came forward, and she took him aside 
 where none could hear, save myself a word or two. The 
 lady spoke to him in a low, quiet tone, and raised her 
 mask a little. The man started back, then removed his 
 cap deferentially. I was close enough to hear his ex- 
 clamation : 
 
 "Mademoiselle la Princesse."
 
 MADEMOISELLE 99 
 
 "Hush," she placed her finger on her lips, "he does 
 not know," indicating me by a gesture. 
 
 I was as astonished as he, but had no further anxiety. 
 No officer would dare arrest a Princess of the Blood in 
 such a place. 
 
 "What does Mademoiselle do in Bertrand's gaming 
 house?" 
 
 "It is not for you to question, my lord," she drew 
 herself up coldly, "I chose it. Now I would go. Pro- 
 vide an escort for me and the gentleman who has the 
 honor to accompany me." 
 
 She came back to me smiling. "We will go in peace; 
 It is Vauban. It must be no trifling matter to fetch him 
 out to-night. I wonder who it is he seeks?" 
 
 I thought I could enlighten her, perhaps, but kept a 
 still tongue. 
 
 Vauban gave a quiet order to the tall man, who, it 
 appears, was in command of the squad, which order 
 he in turn communicated to them. 
 
 "We have made a mistake. Permit these gentlemen 
 to pass out, and none else." 
 
 Vauban then interrupted : 
 
 "De Verrue, do you take ten men and escort these, 
 these gentlemen where they will." 
 
 A young officer stepped forward at the word, but 
 seemed not pleased to leave in face of more exciting 
 events. 
 
 "Nay, nay, boy do not look so glum; take my 
 word, it is an honor a marshal of France would assume 
 did not sterner duties bid him stay."
 
 100 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 My lady tossed her purse to the sergeant as she 
 passed : 
 
 "Divide this with your men, and drink a health to ~ 
 well the Princess Unknown. ' '
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 IN THE HOUSE OF BERTRAND 
 
 IT would now have been a most simple matter for me 
 to go out unmolested beside the princess. And this 
 is what I should have done had it not been for an acci- 
 dent. While Vauban was talking to the princess, I 
 glanced round the room to see if Yvard was there, or 
 any other person likely to know of this business. There 
 was one figure strolling about in the rear which wore a 
 familiar look, yet I could not say I had seen the man 
 before. 
 
 When Vauban gave the order to allow us to pass "and 
 none else," this man very visibly took on an air of 
 apprehension. He looked from one door to the other 
 and, finding all guarded, was quite alarmed, then, without 
 perceiving himself observed, he manned himself with 
 his former unconcerned manner. There was something 
 in the poise of his head, his walk, which came as a well 
 remembered thing from some secret niche of memory. 
 
 Now as the princess and I walked out in front of our 
 guard, this man fell, as if naturally, into the rear of our 
 company, and attempted nonchalantly to saunter out 
 behind us. The guard at the door locked their bayo- 
 nets across, barring his exit. 
 
 (101)
 
 102 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 "By whose orders," he demanded with some show 
 of haughty indignation, "do you hold me a prisoner 
 with this disorderly rabble?" 
 
 "Marshal Vauban's," the sentry replied, unmoved. 
 
 The man shrank back perceptibly ; as I took a longer 
 sight of him the familiarity of voice and figure recurred 
 more strongly. I stood still to look. He turned his 
 face. Broussard! I almost spoke the name. Yes, be- 
 yond all perad venture it was Broussard, disguised, but 
 still Broussard. 
 
 What a world ol vain speculation this opened on the 
 instant, speculation to which no answer came. How 
 much and what had I told him during our voyage? 
 How had he treasured it and where repeated it? For I 
 had now no other thought than he was the spy who 
 brought Yvard the packet designed for Spain. 
 
 "Come my lord, are you dreaming?" the princess 
 broke in impatiently. I had quite forgotten her. 
 
 "No madame, I crave your patience, and beg atten- 
 tion a moment." 
 
 I then asked hurriedly whether she knew the young 
 officer in charge of our escort, and whether she would 
 trust him to see her to a place of safety. She knew the 
 lad as a gentleman of birth and reputed honor, so with 
 the guard and the marshal's orders felt herself safe. 
 Despite the effort to speak coolly my whole frame and 
 voice quivered with excitement at prospect of winding 
 up the entire affair by one more stroke of luck. See- 
 ing which my lady icily inquired:
 
 IN THE HOUSE OF BERTRAND IO3 
 
 "But why? Why do you fear? Surely these soldiers 
 are sufficient to afford protection." 
 
 The half veiled scorn of her manner cut me to the 
 quick, but I determined not to be drawn aside from my 
 purpose. My face still a-flush at her suggestion of cow- 
 ardice, I replied earnestly: 
 
 "Mademoiselle la Princesse " 
 
 "Ah, you know me?" 
 
 I nodded. 
 
 "And yet are willing to relinquish the honor of my 
 escort?" 
 
 "It is duty, Mademoiselle la Princesse; stern and im- 
 perative duty." 
 
 "Sh!" Placing her finger to her lips, "address me 
 simply as Madame." 
 
 "Madame, you wrong me; I would not desert you 
 while in danger; now I may give you into safer hands 
 with honor. A most urgent matter demands my pres- 
 ence there," pointing inside, "it may cost my life. Had 
 I better not acquaint M. de Verrue with your character? 
 He will then be more circumspect?" She thought a 
 space. 
 
 "No, you may tell him I am a woman tell him of 
 the stupid folly which led me here to-night and brought 
 a brave gentleman into danger but not my name." 
 
 She would have thanked me further, but I was all im- 
 patience to be inside, seeing which she graciously bade 
 me go. I bethought me then of the packet yet in my 
 bosom, and knowing all those within were to be searched 
 I took a hasty resolution, born of my confidence in the
 
 104 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 Princess. It may be said here that the lady whom I es- 
 corted on that memorable night was known throughout 
 the kingdom for her eccentric tastes, and noted for never 
 meddling with intrigues of either state or love. Her 
 passion lay with her dogs and horses, the hunt, and not 
 in the trifles of a court. 
 
 "Madame, will you not render me a service in re- 
 turn?" I felt my whole attitude to be imploring, so 
 warmly did I bespeak her grace. 
 
 "I have here some papers of the utmost value to my- 
 self, to no one else. My honor requires that they be de- 
 livered to M. Jerome deGreville before to-morrow's sun 
 arises. He keeps his lodging in Rue St. Denis, at the 
 sign of the Austrian Arms. Can Madame not dispatch 
 a trusted messenger and secure their delivery?" 
 
 The fervor of the appeal touched her, for she listened 
 with interest. 
 
 "Oh, Madame, I beseech you, as I have obeyed you 
 without question this night, do not fail me as you love 
 the glory of France. You may have M. de Greville in- 
 formed how and where you came by them, in case aught 
 of ill should happen to me this night." 
 
 She took the packet. 
 
 "Upon my royal word," she whispered, in such a tone 
 of sincerity I felt relieved of any uneasiness concerning 
 the papers. 
 
 I had a real regret at seeing her leave the hall. 
 Walking so regally in front of the guard I wondered at 
 my thick-headedness which had not before perceived in 
 her every movement the princely pride of Bourbon. I
 
 IN THE HOUSE OF BERTRAND IO5 
 
 threw my cloak, which fettered me, to one of the men, 
 and wearing still my mask, re-entered the hall. They 
 were already engaged in the search, questioning closely 
 each man in rotation. None was allowed to depart 
 without being questioned and examined. I immediately 
 sought for Broussard. He had gone over towards an- 
 other small door, the same through which I had escaped 
 the night before. There were two guards posted here. 
 
 Broussard dawdled about with the air of a man 
 very much bored, who only waited his turn to go 
 through a disagreeable ordeal that he might leave. I 
 fancied his wits were actively at work beneath so impas- 
 sive an exterior. He had spoken privately to several 
 men, one at a time, in careless fashion, and then tap- 
 ping the legs of the tables, and kicking the chairs as he 
 passed, he again came near the door. I managed to 
 keep close to him. As he stood talking to the sentries 
 the four men came up two by two from opposite direc- 
 tions, and at a sign from him, grappled with the guard. 
 While they were thus engaged Broussard bolted through 
 the door. I drew my sword and plunged after him. 
 
 From inside, the sentries cried out: "The two spies 
 have gone this way, ' ' and the whole mob surged out 
 and divided in chase. Some perhaps were in league 
 with Broussard, others were in the service of Vauban, I 
 could not tell. 
 
 The hall was densely dark ; I knew not the way, but 
 I had Broussard but a few feet in front to guide me ; be- 
 hind, some twenty or thirty stout varlets strung out in 
 pursuit, not a dozen paces to the rear.
 
 106 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 It so happened that there was a door which stood 
 half open, and Broussard being hard pressed doubled 
 by this and darted in. He was but a couple of yards 
 ahead and I alone observed this stratagem. When he 
 vanished to the right, I slipped in behind, just as our 
 foremost pursuers swept by. The great noises they 
 made and the resounding echoes effectually prevented 
 their notice of a cessation of sounds from us. Nor did 
 they pause to listen. Crushing through the narrow 
 passage their pressure slammed the door behind us. I 
 heard the clank of a heavy bolt as it dropped into place. 
 Thinking Broussard had sought some secret means of 
 escape known to himself, and fearing he would get away, 
 I dashed madly on, only to fetch up with a terrific thump 
 against a stone wall. 
 
 The shock dazed me and I fell in a heap to the floor. 
 Perhaps it was as well, for I made no further noise. But 
 I listened. 
 
 The place was intensely dark, and not a sound save 
 the heightened beating of my own heart disturbed it. I 
 was afraid to move, lest I bring upon me the crowd out- 
 side. Had not one of the men cried "two spies." It 
 did look as if I too was a confederate of Broussard, and 
 I could not have explained. The echoes of the chase 
 died away, and all was still. My mind and ears were 
 very busy then trying to make out what sort of a hole 
 this was I had so unceremoniously fallen into. And 
 Broussard? Where had he disappeared? I knew he 
 could not be far, for there had been no footsteps since 
 the door shut. I took it that he must be in the room,
 
 IN THE HOUSE OF BERTRAND IO/ 
 
 and that the reasons which enforced quiet upon me were 
 also powerful to him. 
 
 He was worse off though than I, for he had doubt- 
 less heard me blunder into the wall, and thought one of 
 the marshal's men had followed him. This idea sug- 
 gested he would probably then lay perfectly still and 
 wait for the man to recover and go out. Or, the thought 
 made me shiver he might steal up and finish me with 
 the dagger. As quietly as I could I loosened my own 
 knife in its sheath and got it well in hand. In spite of 
 all the caution I used, the sheath rattled against a 
 buckle. I knew my position was betrayed. I thought 
 then to reach a corner where I could the better protect 
 myself against a stealthy attack. 
 
 Immediately overhead an almost indistinguishable 
 blur marked a high, square window, some seven feet 
 from the floor. There was but one. In all probability 
 the door lay directly opposite. That being true, the 
 natural inclination of a man flying down the hall in the 
 direction we came would be to go further to the right. 
 Reasoning in this wise, hoping to avoid a struggle with 
 Broussard in the dark, I edged my way along the wall 
 toward the left. Inch by inch I went, holding my 
 sword extended at arm's length in front of me, and lift- 
 ing each foot carefully to avoid the scraping. Every 
 few feet I made a complete sweep in all directions with 
 my blade, to guard against approach. Proceeding in 
 this way, I felt my sword's point at length touch some- 
 thing something soft. Before I had time to wonder 
 what it was, the sharp hiss of a blade cut close to my
 
 108 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 cheek, and struck clanging against the wall. I sprang 
 back beyond reach. 
 
 "Broussard," and in the extreme excitement I spoke 
 his name unwittingly, "Broussard, stand still; I had 
 no thought to attack you. Stay where you are, and I 
 will seek another place." 
 
 There came a voice, "Who are you to call me Brous- 
 sard?" but I answered not. 
 
 In the absence of any preparation for assault, I took 
 it that he would remain where he was. Thereupon I 
 backed into the diagonal corner, and stood stock still. 
 
 After some period hours or minutes, I knew not 
 what, they were interminable Broussard spoke again. 
 His voice sounded sharp, and unnaturally loud. 
 
 "Who are you, and what do you want? I know you; 
 is it Nortier, Lireux?" 
 
 "Hush, fool; dost not hear the tread of Vauban's 
 men outside? You will call them down upon us with 
 your babble." They were stamping through the pas- 
 sage as I spoke. 
 
 "Ah ! " and there was a world of relief and incredulity 
 in his lowered tone. "Then you are not with Vauban? 
 Who are you?" I made no reply. 
 
 During the long period of absolute and profound si- 
 lence which succeeded I had much time to reflect. I 
 judged myself to be in an unused chamber, which, if 
 square, would be about thirty feet across calculating by 
 the distance from the diagonal corner if in fact Brous- 
 sard lay in the corner. There was but one opening, for 
 I could hear the wind stirring outside, and no draught
 
 IN THE HOUSE OF BERTRAND IO9 
 
 came in. Did the window open on the street, or on an 
 inner court? There was no way of telling. 
 
 If it be true that men live in thoughts rather than in 
 deeds, if the changing phantoms of our brain carve 
 deeper impressions than the petty part we play with 
 our hands, then, indeed, that frightful night would form 
 by far the longest chapter in the history of my soul. 
 
 Darkness, darkness, darkness; quivering, soundless, 
 hopeless night. 
 
 I feared to move, and no sense save that of hearing 
 bound me to the world of living men. Living men? 
 What place had I among them? 
 
 A party of drunken roisterers staggered beneath the 
 window, singing coarse songs and bandying their brutal 
 jests. But it no longer interested me to know the win- 
 dow opened on a street, 
 
 Hour after hour plodded in slow procession through 
 the night. 
 
 Outside, a clattering vehicle whipped past over the 
 rough stones, the driver swearing at his team. The 
 day was coming at last. Did I wish it? Perhaps the 
 night were kinder, for it at least obscured my misery. I 
 almost prayed the darkness might last.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE DAWN AND THE DUSK 
 
 RADUALLY, so gradually the change could hardly 
 be observed, the inner grating of the window be- 
 came visible ; the chinks between the edges of the stones 
 assumed distinctness. A ghostly blotch grew into a fact 
 upon the floor. A leaden hue, less black than the 
 pulsing sea of ink about it, spread and spread, lighter 
 and lighter, until it invaded the dim recesses where I 
 stood. My hand became once more a tangible posses- 
 sion, unreal and grim, yet all my own. The opposite 
 wall loomed up, my utmost frontier of the domain of 
 certainty. Dimmer, darker, more obscure, the door, a 
 vast unexplored cavern gathered to itself the hobgoblins 
 of evil and gave them shelter. As still as the creeping 
 on of day we two men stood, glaring at each other and 
 watched it come. 
 
 Exactly when I began to see him I could not say. 
 Every impulse and vital force of nature centered in my 
 eyes, and they fastened themselves upon that one irreg- 
 ular shadow in the opposing corner which slowly oh ! 
 with such agonizing slowness assumed the outlines of 
 a man. My fascinated gaze wandered not nor wearied. 
 When in the moist light of the morning I clearly saw 
 (no)
 
 THE DAWN AND THE DUSK III 
 
 Broussard, haggard, pale and sunken-eyed, watching 
 me thirty feet away, it seemed that I had seen him all 
 the night. 
 
 No detail of his dress or manner but I observed. There 
 was a scar across his forehead, fresh and bleeding a bit. A 
 contusion rather. He had probably struck the door-facing 
 as he rushed in. Yes, it bled. A few drops had trickled 
 down his nose ; there hung one, quite dry, from his brow. 
 Precisely beneath this there were some dozen or so upon the 
 floor. All could have been covered by my hand. Like my- 
 self Broussard had not moved throughout that awful night. 
 God, how I pitied him. With such a weight of treason 
 on his soul. And yet, looking back, the night was less 
 awful than the coming day, far more merciful than the 
 hideous night which followed it. With the sun Brous- 
 sard heartened up, and first broke the silence. 
 
 "Who are you comrade, and what do you here?" 
 
 I was at a loss for reply. I had no faith in him, yet 
 even a rotten stick might serve to get me out. 
 
 "I am trapped like yourself, and feared you all the 
 night. God in Heaven what a long night it was." 
 
 Broussard had no words, his convulsive shudder ex- 
 pressed more than mine. 
 
 "Do you know how to get out of here?" I asked. 
 
 "Not I, except by the door, or the window," looking 
 at that. 
 
 "I'll try the door," he continued, smiling the treach- 
 erous smile of the tiger. I remembered so well the 
 first day he showed his teeth aboard ship. The man
 
 112 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 y 
 
 well knew I recognized him, he had heard me speak his 
 name, and I feared if he found the door open he would 
 shut me up again, and escape. 
 
 "I'll test the door softly and see what is outside," 
 and he moved as if to put his thought in action. 
 
 "Hold on, not yet; methinks I'll try that door my- 
 self." I could see he had the same idea which had oc- 
 curred to me, for he demurred. . 
 
 "No, my fine sir; why you and not I?" 
 
 "Because I know you, sir, and fear to trust you." 
 
 "Verily, you have honorable intentions yourself to 
 suspect me so readily." He was bent on engaging 
 me in conversation, so he might perhaps recognize me 
 from my voice. The mask still hid my features, and 
 the entire difference in my mode of dress made recogni- 
 tion almost impossible. The puzzled expression of a 
 half recollection still rested on his face as I continued : 
 
 "I do not merely suspect you, I know you for a 
 traitor nay do not clap your hand upon your sword 
 until I have finished. You have now in your possession 
 certain traitorous dispatches which were given you by 
 one Carne Yvard in exchange for others which you 
 brought over with you in a vessel called le Dauphin. 
 Ah, you begin to pale and shrink, and well you may " 
 
 "You lie!" he shrieked, convincing me I had made 
 a home thrust. 
 
 "Softly, softly, have a care, lest you call the Marshal's 
 bloodhounds down upon us. The dispatches with the 
 purple seals, which you brought with such care from 
 Biloxi, have been taken from Yvard, and are now in
 
 THE DAWN AND THE DUSK 113 
 
 safe keeping for the King. The lie, ah, well, I'll 
 pardon that for the while. You can not leave here, and 
 I have ample time for avenging my honor after I have 
 had the pleasure of your delightful conversation." 
 
 He leaned morosely against the wall, staring at me, 
 as I went on. 
 
 "Now listen to me quietly. You have those dis- 
 patches upon your person. I want them, and by all the 
 gods I will have them. If I have to kill you for them, 
 then so much the worse for you. Now listen. Give 
 me those dispatches. We will then get out of here to- 
 gether, and once outside, I will give you full four and 
 twenty hours. That time elapsed, I will turn the dis- 
 patches over to the authorities. If you can escape with 
 your miserable life so be it. Do you agree?" 
 
 "I have no dispatches," he sullenly replied, "and who 
 are you to dare charge me with treason?" 
 
 There was no ring of real resentment in his tones, 
 though he strove manfully to simulate offended and in- 
 dignant innocence. It was necessary to keep him in 
 ignorance for a while, because I feared he might set 
 upon me, and being really an excellent swordsman, the 
 issue of conflict would be doubtful. But the weightier 
 reason lay in the fact that the clash of steel might draw 
 down upon us the occupants of the house. Here I was 
 in a much worse plight than he, though he knew it not. 
 For whether those occupants were the friends of Brous- 
 sard or the Marshal's men, the result would be equally 
 fatal to me. A man must think quickly under such straits, 
 8 BLACK WOLF
 
 114 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 and I was sorely put to it for some device. No stratagem 
 would be too base to use against such a villain, for he 
 would not hesitate to knife me in the back. 
 
 "Broussard, let us understand each other here and 
 now. You know me. I am Placide de Mouret," re- 
 moving my mask and looking him sternly in the eye. 
 
 "Great God, de Mouret!" 
 
 "The same. I am your master at the swords, and you 
 know it. Now turn out those papers." I had been 
 quietly drawing my blade during this speech, as the 
 dazed man tried to collect his senses, so I was ready 
 while he still stood unprepared. 
 
 "Throw up your hands." 
 
 He mechanically obeyed ; the discovery of his vil- 
 lainy had completely unmanned him. 
 
 ' 'Now unbuckle your belt, and drop it to the ground. ' ' 
 He did as he was bid. 
 
 "Kick it across the floor." The weapon was tossed 
 out of his reach. 
 
 I walked up closer to him, and forced him to loose 
 his coat that I might find the papers, and was re- 
 warded by the discovery of a packet, much similar to 
 that dropped by Yvard. It was sealed in such a man- 
 ner it could not be opened, and bore no address. I re- 
 moved the dagger frorrUiis hip, and having, as I thought, 
 completely disarmed him, felt no further uneasiness. The 
 man was thoroughly cowed, and never once raised his eyes 
 to mine. Verily treason doth rob the stoutest heart of 
 half its courage. 
 
 "Now do as I bid you, and I will keep my promise to
 
 THE DAWN AND THE DUSK II 5 
 
 let you go. And mind that you make not the slightest 
 sound which may attract the soldiers." 
 
 "Ah, you fear the soldiers too? " he asked, vaguely 
 trying to puzzle out why I should be afraid of those in 
 whose service I was. 
 
 "It is not to our purpose to talk. I simply want the 
 credit myself, and do not want to share it with those 
 fellows out there. We must work to leave this place at 
 once. Do you stand where you are." 
 
 I gathered up the scattered weapons and piled them 
 all in one corner, farthest from the door, where I now 
 proposed to set about getting free. With the fearful 
 blight of uncovered treason in his soul, Broussard obeyed 
 me cringingly as a servant, and worked as hard, for his 
 safety lay in mine. We went first to the door by which 
 we entered, and after a tedious examination failed to 
 find any means by which it could be opened or broken 
 down. A stout latch, of some pattern we could not tell, 
 held it fast from the outside. There was no catch or 
 fastening of any sort within. The age-hardened oak, 
 studded as it was with heavily wrought nails, forbade 
 the plan of cutting through. This would require days 
 and days of patient labor, and I was already faint from 
 lack of food and the exhaustion of the night. Plainly 
 the room was intended for a prison, and as such it served 
 well its purpose. Baffled and disheartened I turned my 
 thought to the window. It looked out upon the street ; 
 this was so much in my favor. The irons that guarded 
 it were close set, bending out toward the street in the 
 shape of a bow. I judged this was in order that archers
 
 Il6 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 stationed there might shoot the more easily into the 
 street in times of siege. 
 
 I could have reached this without trouble, but I de- 
 sired to employ Broussard, that I might know where he 
 was and prevent treachery. For that double purpose I 
 reached up and grasped the sill, commanding him to 
 catch me about the knees and lift so I might see out. 
 This he did. While in that position he made a pretense 
 of shifting his hold, and something impelled me to 
 glance downward at him. He was stealthily drawing a 
 concealed knife from his bosom. I threw all my weight 
 back upon him, casting the twain of us together to the 
 floor. Meantime he had the knife full drawn, in his left 
 hand held at my breast. 
 
 I grappled with him, holding his left hand in my right, 
 and with the free hand clutched him by the throat, burying 
 my thumb deep in his wind-pipe. Instinctively he 
 raised both hands to protect his throat, and then we 
 struggled to our feet. He made futile efforts to strike 
 me with the knife, bur his strength deserted him with 
 his wind. The blade dropped clattering on the floor. 
 My other hand closed about his neck, circling it with an 
 unyielding collar of steel. Desperately as a caged rat 
 might fight he squirmed and twisted in my grasp. To 
 no avail. 
 
 Tigerish now, as though I held a rabid dog, I thrust 
 him back against the wall, and there rigidly held him 
 fast. In merciless silence I listened to the precious 
 breath gurgling from his body ; a reddish froth gathered 
 at the lips. I could feel his hot blood surge and beat
 
 THE DAWN AND THE DUSK 1 1/ 
 
 against my thumb under that deadly pressure. The 
 cold sweat stood in clammy clusters upon his forehead ; 
 his head thrown back, the eyes turned toward the ceil- 
 ing no longer pleaded into mine. I sickened almost at 
 sight of the tongue swelling black, which seemed to 
 consume all the fleeing color from lips and face. Oh God, 
 how he struggled ! His hands closed over mine as bars 
 of steel to tear them from his throat. 
 
 Even in our mortal strife I marked the eternal har- 
 mony of the scene. Truly death had never stage more 
 fitting whereon to play its last stern drama of dissolu- 
 tion. Hemmed in by four massive walls of granite, 
 ghastly grim and desolately gray, we wrestled in a 
 stifling stillness, while hell stood umpire at the game. 
 No sound of trumpet, no warlike cry, no strains of 
 martial music were there to thrill the nerves and taunt 
 men on to glory. We fought to the scrape and scratch 
 of shuffling feet, the labored gasp, the rattle in the 
 throat, while echo hushed in silence and in fright. 
 
 He grew more quiet, his muscles stiffened and re- 
 laxed he was no longer conscious. A few more con- 
 vulsive quivers, as a serpent might writhe and jerk, 
 then he hung, a limp dead thing, in my hands. My 
 outstretched arms seemed made as a gibbet, feeling no 
 fatigue, so lightly did they sustain him. Cords of brass 
 could be no more tense than mine ; his weight was as 
 nothing. Softly I eased him down, and composed his 
 limbs in decent order upon the stones. 
 
 Then I rose, and gazed complacently at my work.
 
 Il8 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 Yes, it was well done, excellently done, in fact. The 
 most expert strangler of the Choctows could have done 
 no better. Those purpling lines about the throat, those 
 darker clots where my thumbs had left their signs, could 
 not have been more intelligently placed. I smiled my 
 satisfaction at the job, then then my own overstrung 
 nerves gave way, and I fell unconscious across the corpse 
 of my hands' creation. 
 
 When I came to myself I was weeping, weeping as a 
 child might weep, over the dead, distorted face of him I 
 had loved. How long this lasted I had no means of 
 knowing. Uncompromising necessity forced me to ac- 
 tion; forbade me time to dream. 
 
 The body being in my way where it lay for I pro- 
 posed now to work in earnest at the window I moved 
 it tenderly as possible across the floor and stretched 
 him out near the door sill. Springing up then I attacked 
 the bars at the window. Hours and hours I labored, 
 impelled to greater effort by the dread of spending an- 
 other night in that room of murder. I was patient, too, 
 patient with the cunning of a maniac. 
 
 The dagger made my chisel ; my sword, wrapped in 
 a cloth to muffle the strokes, furnished me a maul. Full 
 half the day was before me. The rough paving stones 
 below held out the hope of escape or death. How to 
 reach the street after the bars were removed, I did not 
 suffer myself to consider. I should go mad if I lay idle. 
 I leaned as far out the window as the grating would al- 
 low, and observed a guard standing in plain view at the
 
 ' Then I rose, and gazed at my work." p. 117-
 
 THE DAWN AND THE DUSK 1 19 
 
 corner. It was very evident the Provost of Paris had 
 taken possession of the house, and there was little use in 
 my trying to make a way out the door. 
 
 I bitterly resented the intrusion of every passenger 
 along the street, and scanned with hatred the few who 
 came. For while they remained in hearing I was 
 obliged to cease my chipping at the masonry and leaden 
 cement which held my freedom. I bided my time, and, 
 long before the shadow of the house across the way had 
 climbed to the window where I worked, had the grati- 
 fication of finding a bar give way in my hands, and 
 found I could take it out. Removing this bar, it gave 
 me a powerful leverage on the others, and by exerting 
 all my strength, succeeded in bending the two on either 
 side to such a degree I could force my body between. 
 
 While thus engaged, my eyes were ever fixed anx- 
 iously upon the street, in the hope that Jerome might 
 pursue his plan of watching the house, and I would 
 catch sight of him. The passers-by were few indeed, 
 but somehow it struck me that the same persons passed 
 several times, and in something like regular order. A 
 patrol of Jerome's? My heart bounded at the thought. 
 I watched more carefully ; yes, it was true. I counted five 
 different persons ; some walked fast, some walked slow, 
 but all looked about them and inspected the house with 
 more than an ordinary glance. And, no, I was not 
 mistaken, that simple-looking countryman yonder was 
 Jerome. 
 
 I was quite at a loss how to attract his attention; I 
 feared to yell, lest that give notice to the sentry. I took
 
 120 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 a spur from my heel and dropped it directly in front oi 
 him; I knew he would recognize it, for it was his own, 
 loaned to me for my more fashionable appearance. He 
 heard the jingle and glanced around. His hat blew off 
 as if by accident and fell near the spur. In stooping to 
 pick it up, the spur also found its way into his hand 
 beneath the hat. He was truly a quick-witted gentle- 
 man, and I forgave him from my heart all his chaff in 
 the matter of teaching me manners. It took him not 
 a great while to comprehend, and taking note of the 
 situation of my window, he sauntered off. Thence 
 forward only three men passed by the house, at much 
 longer intervals. He had taken one with him, and I was 
 left to surmise in what method they purposed to effect 
 my deliverance. I made myself almost merry. The long 
 labor at the window had cramped my limbs to such a 
 degree it pained me to move. I clambered down and 
 took a few turns about the room as if I had naught to 
 do but exercise. But at every turn the hideous face and 
 whitened eyes of Broussard dogged my footsteps as a 
 spectre. Look where I would, it was only that I saw. 
 Hour after hour crawled by. Jerome would wait for 
 night. Night! 
 
 Did he but know what lurking horrors filled the dis- 
 mal hours for me, he would come soon. By some fatal- 
 ity I had drawn the body directly to the spot where the 
 last fading shafts of light would hover about its face. 
 Not for a paradise of peace would I touch the loathsome 
 thing again to hide it in the shadows. I could neither 
 take my eyes from it nor put my hands upon it. Like
 
 THE DAWN AND THE DUSK 121 
 
 the basilisk of fable it held my gaze charmed, fixed it, 
 bound it fast. Crouch as I might in the remotest corner, 
 cover my face in my mantle, still that searching, penetrat- 
 ing thing pierced all obstacles, glared grisly and distinct 
 before me. 
 
 I tried to throw off the thought which now constantly 
 recurred. What if Jerome did not come? Would I 
 starve here in company with this corrupting flesh? No, 
 there was the window ; a headlong dash from that would 
 bring death and release. So I determined. Then came 
 on the night. To me it brought no rest, no sweet sur- 
 cease of the labors through the day. 
 
 Somewhere, afar off in the city, there rang a tremu- 
 lous bell, launching its vibrations upon the infinite 
 silence as a sinner's guilty soul might trembling stand 
 in the presence of Almighty condemnation. The mel- 
 ancholy howl of a dog at first cleft through every nerve 
 and fibre of my being, thrilling with a creeping chill of 
 horror. So regular did it come, so unvaried, I grew to 
 count the seconds under my breath, and to note its 
 monotonous precision. Somehow this occupation in a 
 measure relieved me, and when the howls came more 
 infrequently and at less well defined intervals, I men- 
 tally resented the change. Time had ceased to be. I 
 cowered in the corner with naught but death and fear 
 and darkness to keep me company.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 FLORINE TO THE RESCUE 
 
 A SHROUD of consuming terror now possessed me. 
 I crouched in the dank corner clutching my sword, 
 listening, vainly listening, for some sound out of which 
 to conjure up an assassin. A rat ran across my foot. 
 Screaming out I bounded erect and beat about me with 
 blind desperation. One hand touched the other and 
 shrank from its mate. They were as ice. 
 
 Oh, God, the horrid silence! How weightily it bore 
 upon me, stripping me of voice, of courage and of hope. 
 How many, many times I braced myself against the wall, 
 cold with fear at the apprehension of an attack by some 
 demon of the night. How many, many times I sank 
 again into the same dumb misery when no enemy ap- 
 peared to do me hurt. 
 
 So long it had been since the tones of human speech 
 blessed my ears, I almost hoped the marshal's men 
 might come, that I might hear his stern command, 
 "Hang him to yonder window ledge." A rasping 
 thirst roasted my throat until my tongue gritted and 
 ground as a rusted clapper in a bell. I touched it with 
 my hand. It was as dry as Broussard's. 
 
 (122)
 
 FLORINE TO THE RESCUE 123 
 
 Broussard ! A quiver in the musty air set me all a 
 shudder ; in every rustle I felt again the last convulsions 
 of the dead. Dull lights gathered when I closed my 
 eyes, and rested upon his swollen features, their white 
 eyes following me in hate. 
 
 Coolly and logically as if it concerned someone else, 
 the reason of it all crept into my morbid brain. I was 
 mad ; mad from hunger, thirst and terror. Yes, mad, 
 and felt not one whit sorry of it; nay, rejoiced rather, 
 for it meant a freedom of the spirit. So insidiously 
 this knowledge forced itself upon me, it brought no 
 shock, I even dimly wondered that any other condition 
 ever existed. Verily, men are happier for a gentle 
 frenzy. Then, indeed, are all things leveled, all bar- 
 riers removed. Gone were all my pigmy troubles, van- 
 ished into nothingness. Engulfed in a common ruin lay 
 all fragments of desire; the search for reward, the dread 
 of punishment all petty figments of the imagination 
 were powerful now no more. The fall of reason crushed 
 every human hope and dulled the edge of every human 
 fear. What cared I now for food, for water; for honor 
 or for shame? My mind, imperial and freeirom artifi- 
 cial restraints, plunged riotously into forbidden realms. 
 I reveled in the exaltation of chainless thought, and 
 drank from the deepest wells of rebellion delicious 
 draughts of secret sin, thanking, yea thanking, this 
 sweet madness which gave a glorious independence. 
 
 What repugnance had I now for yon piece of foul 
 and rotting carrion! What mattered if but lately a 
 breathing man it had strangled in my grip. By the
 
 124 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 gods, a knightly feat and most bravely done! And I 
 laughed at my former fear, not loud, but such as laughed 
 the fiends of hell when Lucifer rose against his Prince. 
 Low I chuckled, then shivered at my own unnatural 
 voice. 
 
 Dead now to every sense of physical loathing I ad- 
 vanced steadfastly towards where he lay. Shorn of 
 human companions my wretchedness sought a lonely 
 comradeship with the piece of mortal clay. Turning 
 now and again to beat back some skinny hand which 
 snatched my garments, to slap in the face some evil 
 sprite which thrust its sneer upon me, I walked in reso- 
 lution across the floor. I fancied again I heard the 
 tread of men in the passage. Pleased at the babble of 
 the children of my own imagination, I stood to listen. 
 Yes, by the wit of a fool, I'll indulge the jest, a joyous 
 jibe and a merry. 
 
 The low shuffle of cautious feet came again. The 
 latch clanked ever so softly as if some hand without 
 lifted it gently, oh so gently raised it. "Ha! there you are, 
 seeking to frighten me again, but I know you well. No, 
 no, you'll scare me no more; I'll play a merry game 
 with you." So I hid myself in the dark, and thought to 
 play a prank upon the evil Thing. Held my breath. 
 
 Elated to find I owned so wondrously fertile a brain I 
 saw the door open little by little without a creak. A 
 current of liberated air brushed by my cheek. So real 
 it was, I smiled. The door swung wider and wider yet, 
 in the dark I saw it. Verily the sight of a madman is 
 sharp. The wind blew more chill and strong. I saw a
 
 FLORINE TO THE RESCUE 12$ 
 
 gleam peeping beneath a cloak as from a hidden Ian- 
 thorn ; I bethought me I would catch the tiny wanderer 
 from the floor and hold it in my hand. It came crawl- 
 ing and crawling, on and on, wavering to my feet. So 
 many times that night had I manned myself valiantly to 
 fight a shadow, I only laughed in silence and contempt 
 at this. 
 
 Behold the folly of a madman's thought. Yet the 
 creation of it all gave me exquisite pleasure, as a child 
 might find delight in some strange toy from which it 
 could call weird shapes at will. On it moved with a 
 noiseless, gliding motion; now inside the door, now 
 coming, coming, coming nearly to me. Now it let 
 fall a timorous blade of light along the floor. It reached 
 Broussard's body. Its foot struck him. It stooped, 
 threw the light full upon him. Open fell the concealing 
 mantle, showing the barren stones, the corpse, the 
 ghastly upturned face of the strangled man. 
 
 The woman for it was a woman dropped to her 
 knees beside him, called him, felt of his clammy head, 
 and suffered but a single scream of swift affright to 
 leave her lips. From the unhooded lanthorn burst out 
 a spreading yellow glow. Her scream awoke me to a 
 consciousness of reality. From my own unlocked tongue 
 of terror came its answer. I joined my voice to hers, 
 defied the hush of slumbering centuries and filled that 
 quaking room with a perfect deluge of reverberating 
 shrieks. Many others, men, with cloaks, some having 
 lights, some none, rushed in behind the woman. From 
 that time I knew nothing.
 
 126 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 I awakened from a dreamy languor; a subtle essence 
 of perfume floated through my senses. A gentle touch 
 of some kindly hand was bathing my temples. Fearful 
 lest this sweet illusion vanish with the others, I kept my 
 eyes firmly closed, and soon abandoned myself wholly 
 to the subduing influences of natural slumber. 
 
 "Has he stirred, Florine?" 
 
 "No, Monsieur, but his head is cooler now he 
 sleeps, hush ! Perhaps another day he will be better. 
 How he raved through the night. Poor, young gentle- 
 man, he quite exhausted himself." 
 
 "Ah, well, Florine, he is young, and with such nurses 
 as thou and Nannette he will of a surety recover." 
 
 I turned my head and smiled a feeble recognition of 
 Jerome and Florine. The other woman I had never 
 seen; she was much older than Florine and had a kind, 
 motherly face. 
 
 "What day is it?" 
 
 "The morning of Sunday." 
 
 It was Wednesday night when Jerome and I went to 
 the ball. 
 
 I looked about me. The lodgings were those I had 
 taken at the Austrian Arms, yet much changed in little 
 things. The vase of flowers there in the window, the 
 neat-swept hearth, the cheerful fire, and that indefinable 
 something which gives a touch of womanliness to a 
 room. Florine, perhaps.
 
 FLORINE TO THE RESCUE I2/ 
 
 "Ugh! I'm so glad to be here," and I shuddered at 
 the remembrance of my prison and suffering. 
 
 "Poor dear," said the older woman in a voice full of 
 sympathy, "don't worry; you are in comfort now, and 
 will soon be strong again." 
 
 "Am I wounded in any wise?" I inquired, for I knew 
 not the manner of my coming there. 
 
 "No, no, my lad," broke in Jerome's hearty reas- 
 surance, "not a bit, just worn and starved out. Truly, 
 boy, you had a rough adventure. By 'Od's blood, I'd 
 hate to have the like! Has he taken any food Florine? 
 
 "Nothing but the wine, and a sup or two of broth. 
 Here is something for him now," and she brought me 
 a most tempting array of soup, hot viands and victuals 
 of which I feared to eat as I desired. 
 
 Though Florine and Jerome would not permit me to 
 disturb myself with vain conversation, yet by dint of 
 questions and listening when they talked apart, thinking 
 I slept, I found how it all came about. It seems Florine 
 saw and recognized me when I returned to the gaming 
 room, having left Madame la Princesse. She knew too, 
 in some way which 1 did not learn, that neither Brous- 
 sard nor I had left Bertrand's that night. This, though 
 the Provost's men had been searching the city for us 
 both. She kept her knowledge to herself. When the 
 turbulence calmed down somewhat and sentries were 
 placed to guard the house, she occupied herself in slip- 
 ping about looking for my hiding place. It took but a 
 little while for her, familiar as she was with the house, 
 to find the room where Broussard and I had taken
 
 128 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 refuge. Listening at the door she heard our angry 
 voices and the scuffle within. This may have been when 
 I was choking him. Horrible! horrible! 
 
 At any rate she feared to intrude, and at once set 
 out to seek help. The girl throughout acted with 
 astonishing promptness and judgment. Florine had 
 recognized Madame la Princesse all Paris knew the 
 eccentric lady so went straight to her. At first denied 
 admission she sent up a note couched in such terms as 
 gained for her an immediate private interview indeed 
 the Princess herself was careful it should be strictly pri- 
 vate. 
 
 Madame knew nothing of me except the request I 
 made concerning Jerome, and sending the papers to the 
 Austrian Arms. Florine went without delay to that 
 place. This was about midday. Meanwhile Jerome, 
 much troubled that I did not appear during the night, 
 pursued our original plan of watching the house, and 
 arranged his men at windows, and in the street, in such 
 a way as not to attract attention. One of them had 
 seen me working at the window but never dreamed it 
 was I. Jerome found the house already doubly guarded 
 by the Provost's men, to his infinite disgust. He was 
 a handy chap though, and not to be outdone. Dress- 
 ing himself as a clumsy lout, he found little difficulty in 
 worming the transactions of the night before out of one 
 of the guard off duty. A drink or two together at the 
 sign of the "Yellow Flagon" fetched this information. 
 
 Jerome was much wearied through his long watching 
 and anxiety when he returned to the Austrian Arms.
 
 FLORINE TO THE RESCUE 129 
 
 The hostler at the inn turned him aside from the front 
 door by a gesture, so that he entered by another way. 
 Claude acquainted him that a lady in the public room 
 desired to speak with M. Jerome de Greville, and would 
 not be denied. Jerome's custom with visitors was to 
 see them first himself, before Claude told them whether 
 he was in or no. 
 
 Peeping through an aperture he saw the lady walking 
 impatiently up and down the room, tapping at the win- 
 dow, mending the fire, and expressing her haste in 
 many other pettish manners so truly feminine. It was 
 Florine. He knew the girl well from his frequenting 
 Bertrand's during this piece of business. Jerome sent 
 her word he would be in, and changing his costume to 
 one he usually wore, presented himself before her in the 
 public room. 
 
 "Is it I you seek, M. de Greville, Mademoiselle?" 
 he inquired, politely. 
 
 "Oh! Monsieur de Greville, it is you; I'm so glad." 
 she came forward with a pretty air of perplexity and 
 surprise, for Florine had a dainty woman's way about 
 her, showing even through her present trouble. She 
 bore herself more steadily that she had not to deal with 
 some severe-faced stranger, but a gallant gentleman, 
 whose mien was not that from which timid maidens were 
 prone to fly. 
 
 "Oh, Monsieur de Greville, I know not what to say, 
 now that I am well met with you." 
 
 "And by my faith, Mademoiselle, I am sure no word 
 9-BLACK WOLF
 
 130 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 of mine would grace those pretty lips as well as thine 
 own sweet syllables. So /can not tell you what to say." 
 
 Florine pouted her dissent, yet was not in earnest 
 angered she was a woman. Jerome saw her business 
 lay deeper than mere jest and badinage, so he spoke 
 her more seriously. 
 
 "I pray you Mademoiselle Florine? am I right? 
 Be seated." 
 
 Florine had no thought for gallantries ; she declined 
 the proffered seat, and, standing, proceeded at once to 
 the point of her mission, 
 
 "There is a young gentleman in our house," and she 
 blushed a little, Jerome declared to me afterwards, "in 
 Bertrand's wine room you know the place? locked up, 
 and I am not certain whether he lives or is dead. I can 
 not tell Monsieur his name, but you know him. Oh,, 
 he was kind to me, and I would willingly do something 
 to save him. It is so hard to be only a woman. The 
 Provost has the house guarded." 
 
 "I know it," Jerome put in drily. 
 
 "This gentleman gave your name and lodgings to the 
 lady who was with him there last night, and she it was 
 who sent you the packet." Florine had run on hur- 
 riedly, unheeding Jerome's blank look of astonishment. 
 This was probably a shrewd guess on her part, yet it 
 squarely struck the mark. 
 
 "Lady? Sent the papers? Who? What lady?" 
 Jerome asked before she could answer anything. 
 
 "That I must not tell, Monsieur. Oh, come, quick; 
 get him away from there ; if our people find him they
 
 FLORINE TO THE RESCUE 131 
 
 may do him harm. Monsieur is a brave gentleman, a 
 friend of his, is it not true? Come." 
 
 Jerome drew the facts pretty well out of the excited 
 girl, knowing somewhat of the circumstances and guess- 
 ing the rest all in an exceeding short space of time. 
 Florine told him as accurately as she could in what 
 room I lay, leaving him to locate the window from the 
 street. From this point the plan was simple enough. 
 Jerome and Florine arrived at Bertrand's by different 
 routes, Florine passing in unconcernedly, and Jerome, 
 clad again as a stupid country knave, walked by the 
 house to discover my outer window. 
 
 It was at this time that the falling of the spur con- 
 veyed to him the intelligence of my life and place of 
 confinement. After this Jerome had to depend greatly 
 upon the quick-witted woman. 
 
 It would be a long story, and a bootless, were 1 to tell 
 how it fell out that Florine had a friend, the same kind- 
 faced woman who helped her watch beside my bed ; the 
 window of this friend's garret room opened almost 
 directly opposite Florine's own poor apartment. Only a 
 narrow, dingy alley lay between ; so scant was the space 
 the upper stories came near to touching across it. 
 Florine's friend, after some tearful persuasion, consented 
 to aid the rescue of such a gallant gentleman as I was 
 described to be. The girl could come and go at will. 
 The friend permitted Jerome and three of his men to hide 
 in her room. From her window Jerome cast a light cord 
 into Florine's window, she drawing a stouter rope across 
 with it, and made fast. It now became a trifling feat
 
 132 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 for these nimble adventurers to swing themselves across 
 to Florine's room, but twelve feet or so away. Once in- 
 side Bertrand's they proceeded with abundant caution, all 
 of which near came to naught through Florine's sudden 
 shriek and my own nervous clamor. It shamed me 
 heartily. 
 
 "Truly, comrade, thou hast good lungs," Jerome told 
 me days afterward. "It took all our strength to shut thee 
 of thy wind." 
 
 When the four men found me a helpless body in their 
 hands, they were greatly troubled. However, Florine 
 insisted that I be carried to her room where she could 
 conceal me. 
 
 Once there they found means to truss me up like a 
 bale of merchandise and sling me across the alley again, 
 whence I was conveyed, still unconscious, through out- 
 of-the-way streets to the Austrian Arms. 
 
 And so it was I came to my strength, safe in my own 
 lodgings in Rue St. Denis, with Florine and her kind- 
 hearted friend to nurse me.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE GIRL OF THE WINE SHOP 
 
 YOUTH and health do not long lie idle. Even while 
 I lay recovering my health, Jerome and I were busy 
 with our plans. Not the least unforeseen item in what 
 had befallen, was the chance that carried me into a house 
 where I saw again the "black wolf's head," which 
 brought once more to mind the history of the d'Artins. 
 But there was still to come that other happening, the 
 one which bound my whole life, heart and soul, my love 
 and happiness forever, in with the fortunes of that black 
 wolf's breed. 
 
 As I grew stronger Jerome and I had a long talk. He 
 told me the morning after I left him, which was Thurs- 
 day, a veiled woman had brought him a pair of gaunt- 
 lets, with the request that he preserve them carefully. 
 Jerome naturally wanted to know who had sent such a 
 present. The woman answered no questions, only im- 
 pressed upon him the importance of keeping them him- 
 self and letting no one have them. She would not tell 
 whence she came, and when she departed Jerome made 
 a sign to Claude, who followed. He returned and re- 
 ported she had entered the apartments of Mademoiselle 
 de Chartres by a private way. 
 (133)
 
 134 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 Verily this was coming close to the King, and to Or- 
 leans; these gauntlets coming from the house of this 
 haughty Bourbon Princess. One of the gauntlets, of 
 course, contained the papers taken from Yvard, the same 
 I had confided to Mademoiselle la Princesse. I smiled 
 my satisfaction that she had been so discreet. 
 
 The other packet Jerome found upon me when I was 
 disrobed for bed. 
 
 It was many days before Jerome asked me for any 
 details of my imprisonment, or how it came about there 
 was a dead man in the room with me. I related the 
 whole circumstance briefly as possible, who Broussard 
 was, and all, to avoid further questioning. For I hated 
 to dwell upon the occurrences of that night, yet ever re- 
 turned to them with a sort of secret fascination. 
 
 "You choked him well, comrade," was Jerome's only 
 comment, regarding the affair, yet I fancied I saw him 
 shiver somewhat at the ghastly recollection of Brous- 
 sard. The matter being thus dismissed, we never spoke 
 of it again. 
 
 Our fire burned warm, filling the room with a home- 
 like glow, so with good wine and clear consciences 
 Jerome and I drank and talked and stretched the lazy 
 evening through. 
 
 "There is just one other thing we can do, Placide, to 
 put the finishing touch upon our success." 
 
 I turned an interrogative glance toward the speaker. 
 
 "That is to find out, if possible, who is back of this 
 scheming. That fellow Yvard, dare-devil though he is, 
 has not brain enough to concoct such a plan, even if he
 
 THE GIRL OF THE WINE SHOP 135 
 
 had courage and energy to fight it through. Depend 
 upon it, some powerful person is behind Yvard. Most 
 likely Madame du Maine. What say you to an ad- 
 venture?" 
 
 My blood was in the humor for sport, the wine heated 
 me somewhat, and recking not of consequences I caught 
 at his idea. 
 
 "Willingly, comrade, but what?" 
 
 "Let us to Sceaux, to Madame's court, and see what 
 we may discover, for two fools like ourselves might per- 
 chance stumble blindly upon what a wise man would 
 overlook," he continued with mock humility. 
 
 "Yes, and two fools like ourselves might perchance 
 get themselves hanged for what a wise man would keep 
 his skirts clear of. There's a peril in meddling with 
 the affairs of the great." 
 
 "Seriously, now. I have means and ways of learning 
 things in Madame's family. My head has been fast set 
 on this matter for some time. If you agree to take the 
 risk with me, you should know how we are to act. Now 
 mind you," he pursued, rising and stretching his back 
 to the fire, facing me, "mind you, I tell you all I want 
 you to know, and you must promise me to make no in- 
 quiries on your own account." 
 
 By this time I had grown accustomed to trust de 
 Greville, so I simply assented. 
 
 "A lady you know it might get me into trouble," 
 he further explained ; with that I made myself content. 
 
 Jerome averted his face as if he would first frame 
 his speech carefully before he gave it me. Here Se-
 
 136 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 rigny's final remark about making friends of the 
 ladies recurred to me, and I wondered what this fair 
 unknown had to do with such a rough game as we 
 played. Before the hand was out, though, I understood 
 how truly it had been said that women's wits now 
 swayed the destinies of France. Since this day, too, 
 our country has suffered much through women, when 
 under the next, and more pliant Louis, they ruled with 
 even a scantier pretense at concealment or of decency. 
 Jerome spoke slow and guardedly, when he turned to 
 me again. He began in a tone subdued by the inten- 
 sity of his feelings which, as I soon learned, were quite 
 natural. 
 
 "I was a mere lad; I had a sweetheart whose family 
 lived near our own in the vicinity of a certain small 
 provincial town, it matters not where. She, much 
 younger than I, shared all my childish games. It was 
 the will of God that we should love. My family was 
 rich, is rich; both were noble. I had two older brothers 
 who stood between me and a title or wealth. Her 
 parents were ambitious for her future ; I was put aside. 
 They sent her away, away from me, and married her 
 here in Paris to a man she had never seen. A simple 
 marriage of convenience, as we say here. Her heart was 
 numb and dead; it made no rebellion. I went to the 
 army; gained nothing but my rank. My brothers died, 
 and I being the next heir can live as it pleases me. 
 Here I am in Paris; she is at Sceaux, two leagues 
 away. I love her yet, and, God forgive her, she loves 
 me. Her old husband who is attached to the Due
 
 THE GIRL OF THE WINE SHOP 137 
 
 du Maine cares nothing for her. She amuses her- 
 self half in idleness with the intrigues of the court. 
 Nay do not look so black, Placide, for even this can be 
 innocent enough. There is much excuse for her, too, 
 my friend. A woman must needs have love to feed 
 upon. They can never, like ourselves, fill their hearts 
 entirely with ambition, with glory or with adventure. 
 Men may make of their lives a cloister or a camp and 
 be content; but women, whatever else of gaud and 
 glitter they may have, yet require love and tender- 
 ness and gentle sympathy beside. Happy is she who 
 receives all these from her husband ; and that husband 
 treads dangerous ground who denies it to her. I see 
 your wonder at hearing this from me; but I have 
 thought constantly upon such things. Peste! this 
 touches not our business ; let us go on. Through this 
 lady's husband, and by another source of information, I 
 hope to find the truth concerning Yvard. Do you follow 
 me?" 
 
 "Yes, but how?" I put in. "When I run my neck into 
 a halter, I want to know whose hands are playing with 
 the cord." 
 
 "Never fear for her. Madame that is, the lady 
 has a firm hold upon the Due du Maine himself, in fact 
 she is quite indispensable to him. Don't ask me for 
 more. Once let the Due be made Regent, and my old- 
 time sweetheart of those innocent days in Anjou will be 
 the most powerful woman in France. But with all that, 
 Placide," and the man's quivering voice went straight 
 to the very tenderest core of my heart for the depths of
 
 138 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 bitterness it contained, "in spite of it all she'd rather be 
 back in the country breathing the pure and peaceful air, 
 a guiltless and happy girl, than to live as she does, and 
 rule the land. God knows I wish we had never seen 
 Paris." 
 
 I held my tongue ; there was nothing I could say. He 
 felt his trouble keenly enough, and I refrained from 
 molding my undesired sympathy into words. Directly, 
 Jerome took heart and spoke again : 
 
 "Those are the conditions, I merely make the best of 
 them. There is still another friend of mine at Sceaux, 
 the Chevalier Charles de la Mora, a most gallant sol- 
 dier and kindly gentleman. Verily, they are scarce now 
 in France. He has fallen into misfortunes of late and is 
 about to take some command in the colonies. I love 
 him much, and am sorely tempted to cast my lot with 
 his. But, you understand why I stay," and he lifted up 
 his hands with a gesture of perfect helplessness. 
 
 "His wife, Madame Agnes almost a girl is one of 
 the most beautiful and clever women in France, and who, 
 by way of novelty, loves her own husband. Women 
 are queer sometimes, are they not? To-morrow we go 
 to Sceaux ; it will at least be an experience to you, even 
 should nothing good come of it. Do you agree?" 
 
 My curiosity was thoroughly aroused, and scenting 
 sport of a rare character I agreed to join the chase. It 
 was judged best that we should make all things ready 
 for an immediate journey to Versailles upon our return 
 from Sceaux.
 
 THE GIRL OF THE WINE SHOP 139 
 
 Before we slept, my few serviceables were put in posi- 
 tion for instant departure. 
 
 # * * # * * 
 
 When I arose in the morning Jerome had already left 
 his bed. I supposed it was out of consideration for 
 what he was still pleased to consider my weak condition 
 that he refrained from waking me. Claude came trip- 
 ping in later with the message that M. de Greville had 
 gone to make some last arrangements for our journey. 
 I slept so restfully through the night my fatigue and all 
 unpleasant reminders of the episode at Bertrand's had 
 quite worn away, and I felt refreshed and strong again. 
 When Florine came to inquire for my health she found 
 me busied about the packing. I greeted her kindly, for 
 in truth my gratitude was deep and sincere. 
 
 "Monsieur is preparing to leave?" she asked as if 
 more than afraid of a reply. I could see she had some 
 purpose in the question. 
 
 "Yes, I leave Paris to-day." 
 
 "To-day?" she echoed. 
 
 Yes, but I would return and find you again; I could 
 not depart from France without rinding and thanking you 
 for all your kindness. In truth I am glad you came, 
 
 for ." I tried to say more, but the words left my 
 
 lips sounding so cold and meaningless the sentence died 
 away incomplete. 
 
 Florine stood there, vaguely watching me as though 
 she did not understand. 
 
 "Leave France?" she repeated, her tone expressing 
 the hope she had not heard aright.
 
 I4O THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 I had already said much more than I intended, for I 
 was not fully aware of Jerome's intentions, and desired 
 to say nothing which would reveal them. 
 
 "Leave France?" she urged again, "Monsieur " 
 she halted for the word quite naturally. 
 
 "De Mouret," I supplied, and for the first time she 
 knew my name ; surely it was little enough to trust one 
 with who had given me my life. 
 
 "Monsieur de Mouret is to leave France?" 
 
 "Yes," I answered her truly, "but not to-day, pos- 
 sibly not for several days. I would not go away with- 
 out seeing you again." 
 
 I felt my tone become warmer as I thought of all this 
 girl had risked for me, and so blundered on uncertainly. 
 What was I to do ? What could I offer her in repay- 
 ment? Not gold; she had refused that with the air of 
 a grande marquise the night she first helped me from 
 Bertrand's. 
 
 Heartily wishing for some of Jerome's finesse and 
 tact, I gazed at her, stupid and silent, watching the 
 tears gather in her eyes. I could only guess the thought 
 which was passing in her mind, and even there I wronged 
 her. 
 
 "Oh, Monsieur!" she spoke as from the fullness of 
 her heart, while her voice trembled with excess of emo- 
 tion, "Monsieur is going back into the great world; 
 Monsieur has honor and fair fame; I must return to the 
 wine shop." 
 
 The poor girl must have been wearied out with her 
 watchings by my bed, for she burst into such an uncon-
 
 THE GIRL OF THE WINE SHOP 141 
 
 trollable weeping as I fain would have prevented. I 
 did my rough best at comfort, but had to let her sor- 
 row run its course. 
 
 "Oh, Monsieur, think of it! I must go back to that 
 dreadful wine shop, to the gaming tables; must con- 
 tinue to draw men there to be despoiled of their money, 
 perhaps of their lives ; must laugh and be gay, though 
 my heart break at its own debasement. There have 
 been many, ah, so many, I have lured to that place; 
 and it came so near to costing you your life you who 
 were so kind to Florine." 
 
 She had sunk to the floor, and catching my hand 
 poured out all the bitterness of her heart. 
 
 "Yet, Monsieur, what can Florine do? There is no 
 way for a weak woman to do anything in this wretched 
 Paris. If I do not bring players to the house my aunt 
 beats me. See," she drew up her sleeve, and exposed 
 the welts of cruel cuts across the bare white flesh. "She 
 denies me food in my garret. So I must work, be 
 merry and work and weep all the day for the misery 
 of the nights." My heart went out to the girl with all 
 sympathy, but, every whit as helpless as she, I only 
 wondered what could be done. 
 
 "Monsieur, it was not of my choosing, believe me, 
 believe me, it really was not. My father thought his 
 sister so well off in this fine Paris, when she offered to 
 bring me up as her own child, and sent us presents, he 
 made me come with her. We were so poor, so cruelly 
 poor. My mother could not come for me, and now 
 how can I go back? I dare not let her know how I am
 
 142 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 treated. It would break her heart, and she is so old and 
 tottering. If I seek other employment no one will take 
 me, no one would give me a character for service. All 
 the world is open to you. You go where you please, do 
 what pleases you. All the world is shut to Florine. 
 And you, Monsieur, my only friend, I hoped when you 
 were well again, such a rich gentleman could find me a 
 place among his friends ; find me some quiet place where 
 I might live and be of use, not bringing evil to all I 
 touch. What an evil life, what a wicked life I lead. 
 Oh, Monsieur, save me from it; save me! The horrible 
 man you defended me from that night pursues me every- 
 where; my aunt is jealous because of him. She hates 
 me now and would like to drive me out upon the streets 
 ugh! the terror of it. But her husband won't let her; 
 he is kinder than she. See, I am pretty, I bring cus- 
 tom. She can not tell her husband why she hates me. 
 No, no. Bertrand would kill her. And I dare not tell 
 him. They would kill me ' ' 
 
 Her speech rambled on now, disconnected and inco- 
 herent. Still by catching sentences here and there the 
 whole pitiful story was clear to me. My eyes would al- 
 ways overflow at sight of woman's suffering, my throat 
 choked up ; I could speak no word to her. Of a truth 
 what a horrible life it must be ; what iron webs do 
 sin and circumstance weave round their victim. The 
 cowering girl sobbed convulsively on the floor at my 
 feet. I laid my hand tenderly upon her head. 
 
 "Florine, I have but two friends myself in all this 
 land of France. You have served one of these faith-
 
 THE GIRL OF THE WINE SHOP 143 
 
 fully in helping me. I will commend you to him, and 
 am sure he will reward you well." 
 
 "Monsieur, I seek no reward; I served you not for 
 money." 
 
 She shamed me, though I persisted. 
 
 "Not a reward, Florine, but surely you can let him 
 send you back to your mother. Here is money; his 
 money, not mine; he is rich, lam poor. He can pay you 
 for valuable service, I can only give you my undying 
 gratitude." 
 
 I bent down and kissed her pale forehead, whereat 
 she wept afresh. 
 
 "Claude's wife will keep you here safe until we come 
 again. Then we will find means to protect and provide 
 for you." 
 
 I bade her rise now and calm herself, for a bustle in 
 the street announced the noisy arrival of several horse- 
 men. A few moments, and Jerome's voice called me 
 from below to make all ready. 
 
 I called Claude '-s wife up and delivered the girl to her 
 keeping, then turned to look out into the street. There 
 were now drawn up in front of the door four sturdy 
 equerries, well mounted, and leading two excellent nags, 
 which I took to be those Jerome had provided for our 
 own use. 
 
 Jerome obliged me once more to dress with exceeding 
 care, but I fretted much for my own easy garments 
 which permitted a man to use his limbs with the freedom 
 God had given them. Verily there would be no regret 
 when all this frippery could be cast aside, and by my
 
 144 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 faith, it was much simpler to lay it off than to array one's 
 self in. I never did learn all the eccentricities of that 
 remarkable rig my fashionable friend had adorned me 
 with. 
 
 "Had we better not strap on our pistols?" I asked, 
 not knowing what he purposed. 
 
 "No; gentlemen do not wear them. Beside, at 
 Sceaux one sharpens one's wits, and lets even his good 
 blade dull and rust." 
 
 We mustered six stout swords as we clattered away 
 from the Austrian Arms, and I could not but note, de- 
 spite what Jerome had said, he took good care to pro- 
 vide trusty fellows and swift horses. 
 
 "A lean hound for a long race," Jerome laughingly 
 remarked, noticing my inspection of the not over-fed 
 nag I bestrode. 
 
 We took that road leading past the heights of Ville- 
 juif, which in hardly more than an hour's brisk ride 
 brought us to the park of Sceaux, overlooking the 
 beautiful Fontenay valley of which I was destined to 
 learn much. During this ride I had leisure to speak 
 with de Greville of Florine, for the girl's story had 
 roused a real desire in my heart to see her bettered. 
 
 "There are thousands such in Paris," he replied, 
 shrugging his shoulders unconcernedly. "The few tell 
 you truth, the many lie to you. You know not when 
 to believe them. If you like, though, I will see what 
 may be done. At least she may be placed in la Salt- 
 peterie where no present harm can reach her, to earn a 
 living. It is not a pleasant life, and no wonder young
 
 THE GIRL OF THE WINE SHOP 145 
 
 and pretty girls prefer the gay world to the seclusion 
 and labor of Saltpeterie. Yet we will try." 
 
 He treated the matter lightly, as a thing of common 
 occurrence, yet was Jerome tender-hearted. Men who 
 live in great cities become so hardened to the vice and 
 crime about them that they no longer feel keenly, as we 
 provincials do, the appeal of misery. 
 
 I might say here that Florine was one of the next 
 ship-load of girls who were sent to the colonies. There 
 she found a very worthy young planter who took her to 
 wife, and after the manner of the mistreated girl in the 
 fairy tales you children used to read, "lived happily 
 ever afterward." She became, from all accounts, a 
 good wife and devoted mother ; her children yet live in 
 Louisiana, happy and prosperous. 
 
 10 BLACK WOLF
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE SECRETARY AND THE DUKE 
 
 THOSE reflections which I set down at the end of 
 the last paragraph drifted me somewhat from the 
 regular thread of my narrative. This, perhaps, is not 
 the only reason why I should stumble and shy along 
 like a balky palfrey when I approach one of the trifling 
 accidents which transpired immediately after our arrival 
 at Sceaux. 
 
 Thinking now this matter over, my withered cheeks 
 lose their ashen hue, and burn again with the hot, 
 tumultuous blood of youth and shame. But I may as 
 well tell it with all the resolution a man summons before 
 plunging into an icy bath at midwinter. It came, the 
 unexpected prelude to one long, sweet song. It was in 
 this wise: 
 
 Jerome seemed a welcome guest at Sceaux, and from 
 the hearty greetings, yet respectful withal, which were 
 accorded him, must have been a man of more consider- 
 ation in the world than I had heretofore supposed. Be- 
 fore this, I received him at his own worth, and our 
 short acquaintance had been so filled with matters of 
 serious moment, I made no inquiries beyond the scant 
 (146)
 
 THE SECRETARY AND THE DUKE 147 
 
 stray bits of information he had himself volunteered. 
 However that might be, his welcome at Sceaux was sin- 
 cere. Nor did I wonder at his being a favorite, from 
 the jovial jests and flings he cast at those who crowded 
 round, which set them all a-laughing. His familiarity 
 with the doings of the day, and the quick repartee he 
 used to men of different parties, astonished me greatly. 
 
 Having disposed of our horses, and given quiet orders 
 to the groom, Jerome made me acquainted with his 
 friends. Some part of their good-fellowship fell to my 
 lot as a friend of Jerome's, and put me upon my mettle 
 to return it. 
 
 As good luck would have it, Jerome's friend, the Chev- 
 alier Charles de la Mora, was then at Sceaux, and came 
 up early on learning of our arrival. 
 
 He was a splendid fellow of thirty-five, stalwart and 
 unusually graceful for a man of his inches. His frank 
 and cordial manner was his greatest charm to me, 
 though a woman would doubtless have raved more over 
 those dark, dreamy eyes, which while mild enough, be- 
 times gave promise of fire and to spare. 
 
 He spoke most affectionately to Jerome, and bade us 
 both be sure his wife would receive us with sincerest 
 pleasure. Several of the gentlemen had seen service, 
 and with them I was immediately on easy terms. 
 
 Before entering the Villa I paused in a doorway at the 
 head of a short flight of steps, bowing and posturing 
 through my new catalogue of behavior, anxiously 
 watching for Jerome's approval, or a cue. The rascal, 
 I could not for the life of me tell from his expression
 
 148 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 whether he applauded my fine manners or laughed se- 
 cretly at the folly of it all. But I went on as I was 
 taught, bending myself pretty well double, half backing 
 into the door which led to an inner hall. Holding this 
 position, which however elegant it might have appeared 
 to those in front, was certainly neither graceful or at- 
 tractive viewed from within, I felt a. sudden jar from the 
 rear, and being thus struck at a point of vantage, came 
 near to plunging forward upon my face. Before I could 
 recover my equilibrium and turn about, I heard the 
 jingle of a tray of glasses and a cool shower of spray 
 flew about my ears. Then the dazed and bewildered 
 eyes of a timid girl looked full into mine ; she courage- 
 ously paused and essayed to stammer out an apology. 
 Her gaze, though, wandered past me, and one sight of 
 the drawn features of those who had seen it all and now 
 sought in vain to restrain their laughter, was too much 
 for this startled fawn. She turned and fled as the wind, 
 just when their merry peal burst out. 
 
 "Well, my little lady had best look where she goes, 
 and not run through a door with her eyes behind her," 
 roared de Virelle, when the girl had well escaped. 
 
 "His clothes are ruined, and so fine, ah, so fine," 
 drawled Miron. 
 
 "By my soul, Captain, you have flowers to spare," 
 chimed in Le Rue. "That's right, gather them up, for 
 Mademoiselle is not usually so generous with her guer- 
 dons that any should be lost. The little icicle." 
 
 His speech was suited to my actions, for, like a fool, 
 I had already dropped upon my knees, busied about
 
 THE SECRETARY AND THE DUKE 149 
 
 picking up the scattered roses and replacing them in the 
 vases from which they had fallen. The tray was still 
 rolling and rattling around on the floor. Verily, I felt 
 my shame must consume me, and took refuge in this 
 humble occupation to hide my face. There is some sort 
 of a confused recollection now abiding with me, that a 
 man-servant at length came to sweep up the fragments, 
 while I watched him vacantly, a tangled bunch of roses 
 in my hand. 
 
 In all their laughs and jests and jibes hurled at my 
 embarrassment, Jerome never for a moment lost sight of 
 the main purpose of our visit. As all roads led to Rome, 
 so did he adroitly turn all topics of conversation into 
 those channels where might be supposed to run the 
 information we wanted. 
 
 I felt myself, especially in my present frame of mind, 
 ill-fitted for such a play. The blunt and awkward di- 
 rectness of the camp suited better my ways and speech. 
 Though I might discreetly hold my tongue, I could never 
 use it with the credit I could my sword. Nor could I 
 rid my mind of the childish vision which for one short 
 instant confronted me at the door. Even then I pon- 
 dered more on her amazed expression and youthful in- 
 nocence than upon our own chances for success or 
 failure. 
 
 From the comments of those about me, I gathered 
 she was a protege of Madame's, whose reserved man- 
 ners made her no great favorite with the dissolute throng 
 which collected at the gay Villa of Sceaux. I took little
 
 150 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 part in their conversation, and was glad when Jerome 
 by a gesture called me to follow him away. 
 
 "Let us go to see Madame," he said simply, when 
 we were entirely out of hearing. 
 
 "Du Maine?" I inquired, vaguely wondering why we 
 should venture into the lion's den. 
 
 "No Madame the other," he replied with some 
 degree of hesitation. 
 
 I followed him without further questioning. He led the 
 way, which was doubtless a familiar one, and the maid 
 at the door, knowing him, admitted us at once to 
 Madame's apartment. The woman, who sat alone in 
 the dainty silk-hung boudoir, rose and came swiftly for- 
 ward to greet Jerome, the radiant girlish smile changing 
 quickly when she perceived me enter behind him. It 
 was more the grande dame, and less the delighted woman, 
 who acknowledged my presentation with courtly grace. 
 Intuitively I felt her unvoiced inquiry of Jerome why 
 he had not come alone. Yet was she thoroughly polite, 
 and chatted pleasantly with us concerning the news of 
 the day. 
 
 "We are to have a fete this afternoon; you must both 
 come. Each guest is expected to contribute in some 
 way to the entertainment of the company. You Jerome 
 M. de Greville," she begged pardon with a sudden 
 glance at me, "You, M. de Greville, will doubtless favor 
 us with a well-turned madrigal. And you, my dear 
 Captain de Mouret, in which direction do your talents 
 lie?"
 
 THE SECRETARY AND THE DUKE 151 
 
 "I have no talents, Madame; a plain blunt man of the 
 camp." 
 
 ' 'Ah ! a soldier ; so interesting in these stupid 
 times, when men are little but women differently 
 dressed. Ah, it has been too truly said that 'when men 
 were created, some of the mud which remained served 
 to fashion the souls of princes and lackeys.' But surely 
 you could give us a story?'' and so she talked on, not 
 discourteous, but heedless of my protests. I was really 
 alarmed, lest she seriously call upon me before that 
 stately company. 
 
 The tiny clock upon her table chimed the third quarter, 
 and she volunteered that at eleven she expected other 
 callers. Acting upon this hint Jerome proceeded at 
 once to tell her why we came, yet I noted in all his con- 
 fidences he ever kept something to himself for safety's 
 sake. The maid's reappearance interrupted us. She 
 announced, "M. de Valence." 
 
 A gleam of anger swept across Madame 's face. 
 
 "Bid him wait my pleasure in the ante-room. He is 
 ten minutes early. No, the sooner he comes the sooner 
 it is over; wait; bid him come in. M. le Captain, de 
 Greville, will you gentlemen please to retire in that small 
 room for a short space? I will speedily be free again." 
 
 And so it came about we overheard matters which 
 opened my mind to the way affairs of state are managed, 
 and I grew to learn upon what slender threads of love, 
 of malice, of jealousy and of hate the destinies of nations 
 must often hang. From our situation we could net 
 kelp but hear all that passed between Ma<ia.me. and ker
 
 152 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 caller. The maid withdrew, in the slow hurry of a 
 truant on his way to school, but hastened at a sign of 
 annoyance from Madame. 
 
 "Monsieur de Valence, you are full ten minutes early. 
 You know I bade you be always exactly punctual," was 
 Madame's petulant greeting of the handsome man who 
 bore himself so meekly in her presence. 
 
 No tone was ever colder, no demeanor more haughty 
 than hers, and this proud man who bent before no 
 storm, who held the fortunes of many within his grasp, 
 bowed like an obedient child to her whim. 
 
 "Yes, Celeste, I know, but " 
 
 "Madame de Chartrain," she corrected. (I use the 
 name de Chartrain, though it was not her own.) 
 
 "Yes Madame, I know, but, it is so hard to wait; 
 do you not understand how I count the minutes every 
 day until " 
 
 "Yes, yes, I've heard all those fine excuses before. 
 To your business. The other can wait, business first, 
 then ' ' 
 
 "Pleasure?" he supplemented with an eagerness 
 strangely at variance with the rigid self-control he had 
 hitherto shown. 
 
 "I did not say pleasure," she gravely broke in, "your 
 business." 
 
 The man submitted with the patience of one quite ac- 
 customed, yet not wholly resigned to such a reception, 
 and spread numerous papers upon the table before her. 
 Selecting one he began to explain : 
 
 "Your wishes in regard to this matter have been car-
 
 THE SECRETARY AND THE DUKE 153 
 
 ried out ; I had the man detained in the city where he is 
 at your command. He suspects nothing, though fret- 
 ful at the restraint." 
 
 "Very good. And the other?" 
 
 "Yes, here it is. You see this has been so arranged 
 that the Duke quite naturally selected Menezes to bear 
 these dispatches. You may remind him that Menezes 
 is a brother of the man Perrault, whom he had hanged 
 some years ago. Here is the man's history, which you 
 can look over at leisure. The Duke has forgotten all 
 this in his impatience to remedy the Yvard fiasco. It 
 will serve, however, to make him think you even more 
 clever and devoted to him." 
 
 I listened closely at the name "Yvard." 
 
 "Well, now so far so good. And the question of 
 finance? That is of more importance." 
 
 "And of more difficulty. The Madame often dab- 
 bles herself in these dealings involving money, and she 
 is harder to deceive. However she is not accurate at 
 figures, clever though she be otherwise. Look over 
 this; this calculation. See, there is a simple transposi- 
 tion of an item, which results in a difference of near ten 
 thousand livres. It appears there to have been made 
 by the money lender for his greater gain. You can 
 study this copy before the Duke comes. Then you will 
 be quite prepared to point out this error and make the 
 correction. Here is his copy which he will sign." 
 
 "Ah, good," she said looking over the memoran- 
 dum he had given her of the amounts, with the correct 
 calculations all neatly carried out.
 
 154 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 "Well, that is enough for this morning; you may 
 go; these things weary me." 
 
 "Celeste, Celeste, how long is this to continue? will 
 you never ' ' 
 
 11 Madame ," she corrected positively, rumpling and 
 smoothing out again the paper in her lap. 
 
 "As you will," with an air of hopeless protest. "Do 
 you mean always to send me away when our business is 
 completed ?" 
 
 "Was it not our agreement?" 
 
 "Yes, bat I thought " 
 
 "You had no right to think." 
 
 "A man must needs think whether he will or no, what 
 is of life itself. Are you a woman of ice? Do you not 
 realize I sell all I hold most dear, the confidence born 
 of a life-time's honest service to my King, my own 
 honor, only to serve you, to be with you?" 
 
 "I am weary. It is time for you to go." 
 
 "Yes, but is there nothing else? You agreed " 
 
 "Oh, I know, why remind me?" She turned upon 
 him fiercely. "Do you wish to make me hate you? 
 Now you are only an object of indifference, objection- 
 able to me as are all men who make love, and sigh, and 
 worry me. Do you wish me to hate and despise you 
 more than the rest?" 
 
 "God forbid! But" 
 
 "You still insist?" 
 
 "Yes, I must have my thirty pieces of silver, the 
 price of my treachery," de Valence returned bitterly; 
 "men die in the Bastille for lesser offenses than mine."
 
 THE SECRETARY AND THE DUKE 155 
 
 "That is your affair," the woman replied, without a 
 shade of concern. 
 
 I thought I could perceive a growing embarrassment 
 in her manner as de Valence came closer to her, remem- 
 bering, for so she must, that we could hear every word 
 through the portiere. She collected herself bravely; de 
 Valence must not suspect. 
 
 "Come, I'll pay you," and she put her lips upward so 
 coolly I wondered he should care to touch them. Je- 
 rome raged silently, for I confess we were both guilty of 
 looking as well as listening. De Valence leaned over 
 her, but lifted his head again. 
 
 "Celeste Madame, so cold. I'd as lief kiss the 
 marble lips of Diana in the park." 
 
 "Oh, as you please; you may kiss them, too, if you 
 like," she shrugged her shoulders, and was not pretty for 
 the instant. "I pay as I promise; it is a mere barter of 
 commodities You may take or leave it as you choose. ' ' 
 
 The man's attitude of dejection touched even me, but 
 the woman gave no sign of feeling or compassion, only 
 intense impatience 
 
 "Well, Monsieur, am I to sit waiting an hour? Are 
 you come to be a sordid huckster to wrangle over your 
 price?" 
 
 De Valence bent over her again, touched the lips 
 lightly, and strode away, gathering up his papers from 
 the table as he went. Two only were left, and those 
 Madame held listlessly in her hand. 
 
 We felt thoroughly conscious of our guilt, Jerome and 
 I, when we put aside the screen and re-entered the
 
 156 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 room. There was a certain air of resentment in his 
 manner, as if he would call her to account, and I heartily 
 wished myself otherwhere. Perhaps it was all for the 
 best; my presence prevented, for the time, explanations, 
 and I fancied the woman was grateful for the respite. 
 Her lassitude, and effort to overcome it, smote me to the 
 quick, and right willingly I would have aided her had I 
 but the power. To Jerome she spoke: 
 
 "You heard all?" 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 "And saw?" Less resolutely this question came. 
 The words conveyed the wish, unexpressed, that he had 
 not heard. To me she gave no thought. Again Je- 
 rome nodded, and looked away. 
 
 "It is the penalty and the price of powei. Oh, Je- 
 rome, how fervently I have prayed that this all had not 
 been," she went on oblivious of my presence. 
 
 Jerome's resentment faded away at her mute appeal 
 for sympathy, and I am very sure he would not have 
 me chronicle all that then occurred. Suffice it, that I 
 employed myself by the window, some minutes per- 
 haps, until a hasty rap on the door, and the maid bore 
 a message which she delivered to her mistress in secret. 
 
 "Bid him come in at once if it please him." 
 
 "He is already here, madame," the girl replied. 
 
 We had barely time to gain our former hiding place 
 before a man richly dressed, and limping, entered; the 
 same I had seen in the gardens of Versailles. I was 
 now intensely interested in this little drama, which, as it
 
 THE SECRETARY AND THE DUKE 1 57 
 
 were, was being played for my own benefit, and gave 
 closer study to the Duke of Maine who hurried in. 
 
 The weak, irresolute face bore no trace of the dignity 
 and power which made his royal father at times truly 
 great; it showed, too, but little inheritance from the 
 proud beauty of de Montespan. Vastly inferior to 
 both, and to his ambitious wife whose schemes he 
 adopted when they succeeded and disowned when they 
 failed, the Duke trembled now upon the verge of a 
 mighty intrigue which perchance would make him mas- 
 ter of an empire, perchance consign him to the Bastille 
 or to the block. Well he knew that the abandoned 
 Philip of Orleans, though he sometimes forgot his friends, 
 never spared an enemy. With these thoughts haunting 
 him, his timid mind shrank from putting his fortunes to 
 a decisive test, and he looked forward, dreading to see 
 the increasing feebleness of the King hasten that day 
 when a quick stroke must win or lose. 
 
 He approached Madame at the table with a sem- 
 blance of that swagger affected by the weakling in pres- 
 ence of women, yet permitting the wandering eye and 
 uncertain gestures to betray his uneasiness. Something 
 had evidently gone wrong with my lord. 
 
 "Have you heard, Celeste, of Yvard?" he inquired, 
 dropping into a seat. 
 
 My ears quickened at the familiar name. 
 
 "Well, what of him?" 
 
 "He has lost the Louisiana dispatches, and I know 
 not what they contained."
 
 158 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 "What!" exclaimed the woman, as if genuinely 
 alarmed, and learning the bad news at first hand. 
 
 "Yes, the cursed fool lost them in some drunken 
 brawl in the city. We have had the place thoroughly 
 searched, but "he finished the sentence with a shrug to 
 express his failure. 
 
 "What if they should reach Orleans?" he continued 
 evenly. "My men fear he has gone to him anyway, 
 hoping to play in with both for pardon. I'd feel much 
 safer could we only lay our hands upon him. He is the 
 one man beside ourselves here who knows who knows, 
 anything," the Duke went on with growing trepida- 
 tion. 
 
 "Well, make yourself comfort, my lord, I took the 
 responsibility to detain Yvard in Paris." 
 
 "You?" he sprang from his chair in astonishment. 
 "You? Why? How?" 
 
 "I thought your safety demanded it. My lord is too 
 generous, too confiding," she threw toward him a 
 glance of concern poor de Valance would have periled 
 his soul to win. You see, when we entrusted him with 
 this business, it was so delicate a mission, I set a watch 
 upon him some of my own people of Anjou and 
 when he acted negligently they reported to me. He 
 began drinking, too, and freely, so I feared his discre- 
 tion. I now have the man safe in Paris. What would 
 my lord with him?" 
 
 Du Maine fixed his cold eyes upon her, for a short 
 space, then, 
 
 "It would be prudent to put him quietly out of the
 
 THE SECRETARY AND THE DUKE 159 
 
 way," he suggested, the thin lips closing cruelly. "No, 
 hold him, we may have further need for his sword. But 
 have a care that he talks to no one." 
 
 Madame had raised no objection to the Duke's cool 
 command that an end be made of Yvard, yet I did her 
 the credit to suppose it was because she well knew she 
 might do as she liked, and he be none the wiser. 
 
 He now settled himself upon a divan near Madame, 
 with all the complacency of a man whose own foresight 
 has saved him a serious trouble, and said after mature 
 deliberation, gazing thoughtfully at the sportive cherubs 
 on the ceiling: 
 
 "Well, it could not have been so bad after all, for I 
 observed the caution to prepare a warning for our friends 
 across the frontier, and had arranged for a friend of ours 
 to be entrapped by Orleans, betraying misleading dis- 
 patches to him. A fine plan, think you? Menezes you 
 know is devoted to me, and I have promised him a 
 patent." 
 
 "Who did your grace say was to be this friend?" 
 
 "Menezes." 
 
 "Why Menezes?" 
 
 "I have done much for the fellow, and he is not over 
 clever; clever enough for the purpose, you know, 
 but ' ' 
 
 ' ' Does my lord not remember Menezes is a brother of 
 the Perrault whom you had hanged some years ago? I 
 fear you have been badly advised." 
 
 "No! I do not recall him." 
 
 "The rogue who cast a stone at your horse?"
 
 160 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 "Ah, I bring him to mind. Short, thick-set fellow, 
 who whined something about hunger, children, and the 
 cold. Ugh! What concern have I with the rabble? 
 But how do you know this, Celeste?" 
 
 "I have long misdoubted him, and had the rascal 
 overlooked. He is of Picardy, and his father was at- 
 tached to St. Andre, who likes not His Grace, the Duke 
 of Maine." 
 
 "No, by my faith, he hates me. Ah, I see it all. 
 Celeste, you should have been a man, a man's wit al- 
 most you have. Really, so much brain is wasted in 
 that pretty head of yours. Madame will come to com- 
 prehend she does not know it all yet she torments me 
 till I give in. I think I shall take firmer hold, and 
 manage my own affairs to better advantage than she. 
 Ugh! What a scrape she was like to get me in." 
 
 He gradually regained the expression of complete 
 satisfaction with himself, and prepared now to show the 
 masterpiece of his work, the contract with Antonio of 
 Modena, the money-lender. 
 
 "Here are our financial plans; the usury is high, but 
 there is great risk, so thinks Antonio ; egad! perhaps 
 he is right, though it is possible we may pay him. Al- 
 together a most excellent plan, my own work 1 . " 
 
 Madame interrupted him, thinking perhaps it v/as 
 wise that he should not be committed too far that he 
 could not throw the blame on other shoulders. She 
 took advantage of a pause to examine the document 
 with apparent care. 
 
 "Yes, excellent, but let us see. Three, seven, twelve,
 
 THE SECRETARY AND THE DUKE l6l 
 
 fourteen, twenty-three here is some mistake. Let us 
 go over it again. Yes, here it is. This is not your ac- 
 counting. The miserly Lombard would cozen you of 
 your honor if he could but sell it again. Here is an 
 error of near ten thousand livres ; let me correct it for 
 you." 
 
 And while he stared at her she deftly copied the cor- 
 rect amounts from the slip she held concealed in her 
 hand. She knew the figures were his own, but gave no 
 token. 
 
 "I doubt not you would have looked over it more 
 carefully before you signed it, and these matters would 
 have been detected by your own eyes." 
 
 "Yes, yes," he replied nervously, reaching out his 
 hand for the paper lest she observe what her quick 
 eyes had at first seen that the contract already bore 
 his signature and seal. She gave it him and he re- 
 placed it carefully in his breast. 
 
 "I will give those careless secretaries a lesson they 
 sorely need," and in this disturbed condition of mind 
 he blustered out of the apartment, forgetting his usual 
 gallantries, which Madame so diplomatically put aside 
 without giving too serious offense. 
 
 Jerome leaned against the window-facing, his unsee- 
 ing eyes resting on the park beyond the little garden at 
 our feet. His brow lowered, not as of a storm, but 
 with the murkiness of a settled and dismal day. Per- 
 chance his thoughts wandered with his childhood's 
 sweetheart amid the fertile vales of far away Anjou, 
 11 BLACK WOLB-
 
 162 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 Nothing was more distant from him than the gilded 
 furnishings, the frescoes, the marble Venus at his elbow. 
 Beside her table, alone, and abstracted as Jerome, the 
 woman toyed with a dainty fan ; her impassive beauty, 
 born of rigid training, betrayed not the inner desola- 
 tion. Her face was calm and serious enough, the skin 
 lay smooth and glowed with all those delicate tints that 
 women love. 
 
 Her quietude reminded me of the slumbering ocean, 
 glassy and tranquil, whose unmarred surface conveyed 
 no hint of sunken ships beneath, of cold dumb faces 
 tossing in the brine, of death-abysses where wrecks 
 abandoned lie. 
 
 I slipped away without rousing a protest from Jerome, 
 and closing the door softly left them to their medita- 
 tions and to each other.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 NEW HOPES 
 
 NOW, that I was well out of their way, it came to 
 me to wonder what I should do with myself until 
 Jerome might please to seek me again, but accident fa- 
 vored me with occupation. Passing through the hall I 
 heard a woman's shrill voice, lifted in anger, berating 
 some unfortunate attendant. 
 
 "You wretched hussy, to speak rudely to a guest of 
 mine, who did but make to you a pretty speech. I'd 
 have you be most charming to Monsieur Viard. Re- 
 member, you are only a hireling, and need give your- 
 self no such fine and unseemly airs." 
 
 The door just ahead of me was thrown violently open, 
 and out strutted a tiny lady in a most disproportionate 
 rage. She was beautiful neither in face nor figure; she 
 was diminutive, and petulant of manner, but bore her- 
 self with an air of almost regal pride. It was she whom 
 I came to know as Madame du Maine, a daughter of 
 the proud and princely Condes. Following her, weep- 
 ing bitterly, came the sweet maid who had spilled the 
 tray of flowers on me at the door. I stepped back into 
 an alcove, lest, perchance, she look behind, and aim- 
 lessly I straggled out into the gardens as best I might. 
 (163)
 
 1 64 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 The Villa being a strange ground, it fretted me to be 
 alone therein, with nothing to think of but this trouble 
 of my friends. And Madame de Chartrain, did I blame 
 her? Blame Jerome? Yes no. I hardly knew. 
 Viewed at a distance and impartially, such things strike 
 us with aversion, and we are quick to condemn. But the 
 more I thought the nearer I came to concluding it took 
 something more than a mere mummery to make a wife. 
 All the ceremonials and benedictions and lighted can- 
 dles and high-sounding phrases could not bind a 
 woman' s heart, where that heart was free, or called 
 some other man its lord. Yet the bare fact remained, 
 this woman was a wife, and to me, at least, that name 
 had always been a sacred and holy one. 
 
 To what vain or wise conclusions my cogitations may 
 have led me, I conceive not, for another small matter 
 now quite absorbed my whole attention. It was the 
 beginning of that one dear hope which speedily banished 
 all others. It is said the trippant tread of Fate doth 
 leave no print upon the sand to mark its passage, nor 
 doth she sound a note of warning that the waiting hand 
 may grasp her garments as she flies. 
 
 A gleam of white in one of the summer houses 
 caught my roving eye, and quite aimlessly I passed the 
 door. A chit of a child crouched upon the floor, and 
 leaned forward on the benches, weeping as though each 
 sob were like to burst her little heart. I grant it was 
 no affair of mine, yet my tears were ever wont to start, 
 and eyes play traitor to mine arm at sight of woman's 
 trouble. Without thinking one whit, I stepped in be-
 
 NEW HOPES 165 
 
 side her, and laying my hand gently upon the lassie's 
 shoulder, implored that she weep no more. 
 
 Up she sprang to face me, flushed and indignant. 
 Verily was I abashed. Yet there was that of sympathy 
 and sincerity in my voice and mien or so she told me 
 after which turned her wrath aside. 
 
 "You, Monsieur; I thought it was old Monsieur Viard, 
 he pursues me so." 
 
 It was the same little maid I had seen in the hall, and 
 that was why I trembled. She wept now for the scold- 
 ing she had got. I caught my breath to inquire why 
 she wept. 
 
 "Oh, Madame, Madame it is the humor of Madame 
 to humiliate me of late ; she reminds me ever of my de- 
 pendent position. And Monsieur," the child straight- 
 ened up proudly till she was quite a woman. "Mon- 
 sieur, I come of a race as old as her own and as hon- 
 ored." "Charles is poor the Chevalier de la Mora, 
 you know. But now he goes to the colonies, and will 
 take me with him." 
 
 It was a silly enough thing to do, but about here I 
 stalked most unceremoniously off, leaving her to her 
 sorrow and her tears. Since that day I have often smiled 
 to think how foolishly do the wisest men deport them- 
 selves when they first begin to love. Their little starts 
 of passion, their petty angers and their sweet repent- 
 ances all were unexplored by me, for Love to me was 
 yet an unread book. 
 
 At the door of the house M. Leroux hailed me gra- 
 ciously :
 
 1 66 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 "Well met, my dear Captain; we go to the park, and 
 would have you bear us company. Where is M. de 
 Greville?" 
 
 I explained as best I might his absence, and followed 
 them in lieu of better employment, forgetting for the 
 time the threatened fete. Before I could extricate my- 
 self, these new friends had led me into a brilliant circle, 
 and duly presented me to Madame, who sat on a sort 
 of raised platform in the center. 
 
 She showed no traces of her recent anger and spite, 
 vented upon that patient girl who now claimed all my 
 thought. Her ladies, some languishing literary nota- 
 bles of the day, and officers, stood about discussing the 
 news, and talked of naught but some fetching style or 
 popular play, through all of which I struggled as 
 bravely as my dazed condition would permit. It seemed 
 I would never grow accustomed to the like, though it is 
 said many men find great delight in such gatherings. 
 But one thing I searched for most eagerly. 
 
 Behind Madame's chair, after a little, appeared the 
 sweet shy face of my weeping Niobe of the park. I 
 felt she saw and recognized me, and my face grew 
 warmer at the thought. I made bold to ask one of the 
 gentlemen standing near me who the lady might be, 
 and not desiring to point at her, simply described her 
 as well as possible, and as being in attendance upon 
 Madame. 
 
 "That, Monsieur, is Madame Agnes, wife of the 
 Chevalier de la Mora; the wittiest and most beautiful 
 woman at Sceaux, and the chilliest."
 
 NEW HOPES 167 
 
 Noting the change of countenance which I sought in 
 vain to control, he went on banteringly. 
 
 "Beware M. le Capitaine, half the men at Sceaux are 
 in love with her, but she has the execrable taste to pre- 
 fer her own husband. Such women destroy half the 
 zest of living. Beside, the Chevalier has a marvelous 
 sword and a most unpleasant temper. Bah ! how ludi- 
 crous it is for men to anger at trifles. 
 
 "But," I faltered, "she seems a mere child." 
 
 "Yes, but none the less charming," and he turned 
 away to continue his interrupted conversation with the 
 daring young Arouet, the same who was to acquire uni- 
 versal fame under the name Voltaire. 
 
 Thus rudely were my new-awakened hopes of love 
 cast down. A wife, and the wife of a friend ! She had 
 spoken to me of "Charles," and of going with him to 
 the colonies. A wife, yet for all that, I knew I loved 
 her. 
 
 They say the road to hell is paved with good inten- 
 tions. My intentions were the best that ever made ex- 
 cellent cobblestones toward the infernal gate. Only a 
 few days and I would be gone; surely those could be 
 passed through in peace. She was a wife I would never 
 let her know that all my heart was hers. This I deter- 
 mined. But man is weak, and the very atmosphere of 
 France dried up the springs of every honest impulse. 
 Everywhere was scoffing, raillery and disbelief. Honor, 
 friendship and virtue were regarded as the vain chimeras 
 of a fool. Why should not I enjoy life while I might? 
 
 Directly Madame Chartram entered without intrud-
 
 1 68 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 ing, and composedly took her place among the ladies 
 who made room for her near Madame. Nothing in her 
 manner bore evidence of her recent conflict. It was 
 really marvelous how the life these women led schooled 
 them to a stoicism any Choctaw brave daring the stake 
 might envy. She nodded to me gaily, and I stopped 
 to touch her hand . 
 
 "Where is M. de Greville? Is he not to be with us 
 this afternoon?" 
 
 I looked her in the face, wondering, for could she not 
 answer her own question far better than I ? She read 
 my meaning, but her glance never wavered. 
 
 "Ah! There he is, among the gentlemen. I feared 
 he found Sceaux too dull after Paris, and he had prom- 
 ised us a bit of his work. You know he composes fa- 
 mous verses to some fair and distant inamorata." 
 
 "Indeed, Madame, I suspected not his talents," I 
 replied. Our conversation lagged, for the programme 
 had already commenced, and we gave our attention to 
 the reading of some curious letters, said to have been 
 written by two Persians of distinction then traveling in 
 Europe, which were being published anonymously in 
 Paris. At first, I could not bring myself to listen to 
 such twaddle, dubiously moral, which, under the guise 
 of light, small talk, struck at the foundations of govern- 
 ment, religious beliefs, and all which I had before held 
 sacred. Listening only to contradict, I grew interested 
 in spite of myself, and only at some allusion more than 
 usually out of place, as it seemed to me, among so
 
 NEW HOPES 169 
 
 many ladies, did I take my eyes from the reader's coun- 
 tenance, and suffer them to roam about the company. 
 
 Feeling again the subtle influence of Agnes' gaze 
 fixed full upon me, it caused my cheeks to flush, my 
 knees to quake, and verily, my legs were as like to 
 carry me away as to sustain me where I leaned against 
 a tree. The girl was looking straight at me; I dared 
 not return her stare which had something more than 
 mere curiosity in it, and disturbed me greatly. 
 
 The reading was finished without my knowledge, a 
 piece of buffoonery, or play acting gone through with, 
 which I did not see, when my own name, called by 
 Madame, brought me to my proper good sense again. 
 
 I found myself, before I was quite aware, bending be- 
 fore Madame and receiving her command that I should 
 do something for the amusement of the company. 
 
 "M. Jerome has favored us, you know we have no 
 drones here," she went on pleasantly, "and it is the 
 rule at Sceaux that all must join our merriment." 
 
 "Jerome?" I answered in a bewildered fashion, for I 
 had no recollection of seeing aught he did ; then I re- 
 membered hearing him recite some languishing verses 
 about a white rose, a kiss, a lady's lips some sighs, 
 and such other stuff that now escapes me but I had 
 paid no attention to it all. 
 
 Jerome, the villain, seconded Madame's request so 
 vigorously I could not decline, though he well knew I 
 was no carpet knight capable of entertaining ladies fair 
 on the tourney field of wit. 
 
 "The Captain sings divinely, Madame, but is be-
 
 1 70 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 comingly modest, as you see." The wretch laughed in 
 his sleeve; I could have strangled him. 
 
 "Ah, so rare," she retorted, "you men are vainer 
 than my ladies." 
 
 I knew myself the target for dozens of curious eyes, 
 under the heat of which I near melted away. 
 
 "Sing, comrade, sing some sweet love ditty of a 
 lonely forest maiden and her lover, robed in the inno- 
 cence of Eden." 
 
 Had the fool no sense? I caught the imploring ex- 
 pression of interest on the girl's sweet face behind Mad- 
 ame, and determined at all hazards they should not have 
 the laugh at me. I saw it all then ; they were in league 
 with Jerome to play a game of "bait the bear," with me 
 for bear. 
 
 So I pitched in and sang, such a song I warrant as 
 my lords and ladies had never bent their ears to hear 
 before, a crooning death incantation of the Choctaws, 
 which fell as naturally from my lips as my own mother 
 tongue. 
 
 Their laughter hushed, for even in the court of France, 
 sated as it was with novelties, laying a- world under trib- 
 ute for amusements, that wild, weird melody never rose 
 before nor since. One stanza I sang translated into 
 French that they might understand ; 
 
 " Yuh! Listen. Quickly you have drawn near to hearken ; 
 Listen! Now I have come to step over your soul ; 
 You are of the Wolf Clan; 
 Your name is Ayuni ; 
 
 Toward the Black Coffin of the upland, in the upland of the 
 Darkening Land your path shall stretch out.
 
 NEW HOPES I/ 1 
 
 With the Black Coffin and the Black Slabs I have come to 
 
 cover you. 
 When darkness comes jour spirit shall grow less and dwindle 
 
 away never to reappear. Listen." 
 
 And they did listen; yea, attentively did they 
 hearken, for a great pall of silence lowered upon them, 
 so new, so strange to them was the song. 
 
 When I had quite finished, the soft, Indian words 
 dropping as the splash of unknown, unseen waters, 
 Madame besought me with earnestness to tell her more, 
 and the others crowded round to hear. I do not know 
 what evil genius of folly prompted the childish deed, 
 but feeling safe in having found what we wanted, and 
 moved more than I would admit by the now admiring 
 eyes of the girl, I gathered up half a dozen daggers 
 from the gentlemen who stood about~ Selecting those 
 whose weight and balance commended themselves most 
 to my purpose, I cleared a small space, and having sent 
 a serving man for a pack of cards, chose a five spot and 
 pinned it to a tree. Standing back some ten to fifteen 
 paces. I cast the four knives at the corner pips in quick 
 succession, piercing them truly, then paused a minute 
 and cast the fifth knife at the center, striking accurately 
 between the other four. It was an act of idle vanity, 
 yet I hated for Jerome to taunt me on the way home. 
 
 By these petty means I gained a cheap applause from 
 the belles and gallants at Sceaux, and Jerome opened 
 not his lips to jibe me, as I feared, but like the rest, ap- 
 plauded. 
 
 I had now quite regained my courage, but for the
 
 1/2 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 girl. I loved to think of her as but a girl; that she was 
 also a wife I barred out of our castle in Spain. Why 
 should I be afraid of such a timid child? Verily, I 
 knew not. 
 
 My folly had one result I could not then foresee ; it 
 told some of those present, whose hand it was had cast 
 the hunting knife which struck Yvard. I did not learn 
 this for days after. 
 
 The approving and pleased look on the little lady's 
 face fired me with an insane desire to further win her 
 notice, whereat I chided myself for a vain coxcomb, 
 and drew imperceptibly away from the company, until I 
 gained a shady and secluded walk which led to a retired 
 nook overlooking the valley. 
 
 The quietude of the evening's close jarred on my tur- 
 bulence of spirit. For the first time a woman's voice lin- 
 gered in my ears after her speech was done, a woman's 
 smile played as the fitful summer's lightning before my 
 eyes. Oh, fool, fool! What place had women in a 
 soldier's life. What a discordant harmony would one 
 angel create amid the rough denizens of Biloxi. So I 
 reasoned, forgetful that reasons never yet convinced the 
 heart.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE UNEXPECTED 
 
 AS one who pauses at the threshold of some fabled 
 palace of the houri, so did I stop, bewildered by 
 the beauty of this virgin field of love, by fancy decked 
 with blossoms, now spreading all the allurements of fet- 
 terless imaginings before me. A sudden whiff brought 
 me the perfume of her presence, and, turning, she ap- 
 peared before me, whether in the spirit or the flesh, I 
 could hardly tell, so transported was I by the swift 
 changes of my thought, merging beauties ever new, ever 
 sparkling, with thosescarce tasted ones butjustdiscarded. 
 Yet there she was, a dainty thing in white. White of 
 dress, white of face, white of spirit. 
 
 In frightened tones of far-away sweetness, her voice 
 mingled with the air, so low, so melodious one could 
 scarce determine when she commenced to speak. 
 
 "Monsieur, quick, listen. You are in danger. I 
 was in Madame de Chartrain's chamber and overheard. 
 You have letters. M. de Greville will take them from 
 you for her sake they compromise her. There is 
 other danger," she spoke breathlessly on, "other more 
 deadly danger lurking for you here ; I beseech you to 
 (173)
 
 174 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 leave at once. M. de Greville will take those letters 
 from you by force or guile. Oh, tarry not, there has 
 been so much of blood, and this place so seeming fair; 
 the assassin, the poison and prison houses." 
 
 The eloquence of fear trembled in her words. Half 
 starting forward I drank in every syllable, not for the 
 warning she would fain convey, but for their sweetness. 
 All I could realize for the moment was that she had 
 sought me, sought me freely. Then she was gone. 
 Swiftly, noiselessly as she came, she disappeared. The 
 distant flutter of her skirts among the sombre trees 
 marked the path she went. Through it all I spoke no 
 word, returning, as one who has received an angel's 
 visit, to my reverie. 
 
 I was not suffered long to spend my time alone. The 
 old beau, de Virelle, in his bluff and hearty way di- 
 rected the attention of a party of ladies who were with 
 him to where I hung over a marble balustrade enrap- 
 tured at the broad expanse of valley, rosy tinted with 
 the hues of ebbing light, boundless as the dim horizon 
 of my own sweet dreams. 
 
 "By my faith, Captain, you should have heard the 
 clamor over your departure. Already famous, and so 
 soon weary of your laurels. Ah! a tryst," he ex- 
 claimed. "Verily you do better than I thought," for 
 he had picked up a muslin handkerchief, edged with 
 lace, which sought in vain to hide itself among the 
 leaves. So busied had I been it escaped my notice. 
 Instinctively I reclaimed the prize and with no gentle
 
 THE UNEXPECTED 175 
 
 hand I doubt, for his touch and jeering manner dese- 
 crated the sacred relic of my vanished saint. 
 
 De Virelle scowled somewhat at my precipitation, but, 
 meeting a no less determined air, passed the matter by. 
 His ladies affected not to see. They in their turn plied 
 me with inquiries about the savages in America, asked 
 all manner of silly questions, and completed with their 
 foolish simperings the disgust I already felt at such an 
 interruption to my thought. Yet so great is the force 
 of novelty to women they clung about me as if I were 
 some strange tame animal brought to Paris for their di- 
 vertisement. 
 
 "Zounds, Margot dear," de Virelle blurted out aside, 
 for even his dull senses saw I was not pleased, "our 
 good Moliere must have had this hermit captain in his 
 mind when he made Alceste to rail so at the hypocri- 
 sies of the world, and urge the telling of truth and look- 
 ing of truth at all times." 
 
 "How brutally frank! What bad breeding," as- 
 sented that young woman. 
 
 ' 'This captain seems so full of weariness at our coming, 
 and lacks the grace to veil it decently; let us go." 
 
 Finding no hand of mine raised to hinder them, these 
 fair dames and demoiselles, with many pretty pouts and 
 flutters and flounces, betook themselves away, followed 
 by their faithful squire. 
 
 I began then to feel sorry at having disgraced 
 Jerome's gentle teachings. The light dying away 
 across the distant fields and streams, I resigned my sol- 
 itary communion and set out slowly toward the villa.
 
 1/6 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 The meaning of all the girl had said now forced itself 
 upon my attention. If this were true, and it seemed 
 plausible enough in view of all that had transpired here, 
 I was indeed confronted by a new and serious danger. 
 Happily danger was not a new fellow-traveler ; I merely 
 turned over in my mind the best means to meet it. 
 
 Going rather out of my way, I found the grooms 
 without much difficulty, and telling them we were to 
 leave Sceaux at once, ordered the horses saddled, and 
 made ready at a side door where I directed them to 
 wait. My own mind was to tell Jerome nothing of it, 
 but simply to mount the best horse and ride away alone 
 if that course became necessary. 
 
 ###*## 
 
 I will break in a bit just here to speak of an incident 
 which occurred that very night in the modest boudoir 
 of Madame de la Mora. Had I but known of it at the 
 time, it would have saved me many weary months of 
 suffering. 
 
 Madame Agnes de la Mora sat placidly, her work 
 basket by her side, busied about some lace she was 
 mending. The Chevalier studied a number of military 
 maps of Louisiana at his table. It was a pretty picture 
 of domestic harmony, then quite unfashionable at 
 Sceaux. A timid rap at the door, and a voice: 
 
 "Sister, may I come in?" 
 
 "Yes, child," and her sister Charlotte slipped silently 
 in and sat herself upon the floor at Madame's feet. 
 There was a striking similarity between the two. Mad- 
 ame, for all her dignified title, being but a year the
 
 THE UNEXPECTED 177 
 
 elder, and she scant of twenty. Charlotte, somewhat 
 slighter and more delicately colored, was even of greater 
 beauty than her sister, with much promise for the years 
 to come. To the casual observer, though, especially 
 when viewed apart, they seemed almost reflections one 
 of the other. There was something of a loving guard- 
 ianship in the attitude of the elder, of confiding trust in 
 that of the younger, as she leaned her head upon her 
 sister's knee in pensive meditation. 
 
 "Sister, I must tell you of something; I know not 
 that I did well or ill," and she lifted her face with a 
 surety of sympathy. 
 
 "What is it, dear, what weighty matter troubles you 
 now?" 
 
 The Chevalier looked up long enough to say : 
 
 "Have you torn your frock, or only quarreled again 
 with the good Abbe over your task?" The girl very 
 evidently had nothing to fear from his harshness. 
 
 "No! No! Don't tease; it's really important. 
 This day at noon Madame Chartrain was in her cham- 
 ber you know the young man who came with M. 
 Jerome?" de la Mora nodded. 
 
 "The same I ran into at the door?" and she flushed 
 again at the memory of our discomfiture. 
 
 "Well, to-day noon at Madam Chartrain's I heard 
 that danger threatened him concerning some papers or 
 something which he has and Madame du Maine, too, 
 they mean him harm; and and well, I told him. 
 Did I do ill, sister?" 
 12 BLACK Wowr
 
 1/8 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 "What is that, Charlotte? Come here." 
 
 She crossed the room obediently and stood before 
 him. 
 
 The Chevalier asked : "How did it happen, child? 
 Tell me all about it, where you saw him, who was there, 
 and all." 
 
 So she went on to tell of her seeking me in the park, 
 and her hurried warning. 
 
 "Well, what did he say to all that?" 
 
 "He didn't say anything; I gave him no chance; I 
 just ran up near him and told him as quick as ever I 
 could that he had better go off somewhere, and then 
 and then well, I just ran away again. He looked so 
 startled and surprised he could not say anything. When 
 I turned again to peep through the hedge he was still 
 standing there with his hands stretched out as if he 
 would have liked to stop me, but I was already gone." 
 
 The girl laughed a short little laugh and tucked her 
 hand closer into his. 
 
 "Did I do wrong, Charles? Tell me, was it so very, 
 very bold?" 
 
 The Chevalier could not quite suppress the smile al- 
 ready twitching at his lips, though he soon looked grave 
 enough. 
 
 "Yes, child, it was not well; beside, the affair is not 
 yours, and it is always dangerous to meddle. There, 
 now, don't worry, it does not matter much after all. 
 Soon we leave here and you will never see any of them 
 again, I hope. This is no place for lassies fair and
 
 THE UNEXPECTED 1/9 
 
 young as you. I hope to take both you and Agnes to 
 a new and purer land." 
 
 "Soon we leave?" she repeated, "oh, I forgot; but 
 I don't want to, I like it here." 
 
 "Like it? I thought you hated Sceaux?" 
 
 "Yes, I did but " 
 
 "But, what?" 
 
 "But, nothing, I just like it now," she insisted illog- 
 ically. 
 
 "Who is this young man, Charles?" asked Agnes 
 when her sister had gone. And he told her.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE FLIGHT FROM SCEAUX. 
 
 THE responsibility brought by the possession of such 
 valuable state papers oppressed me greatly, to 
 say nothing of the perils which would beset their custo- 
 dian if it became Jerome's purpose to reclaim them. I 
 thought it most prudent and proper under present con- 
 ditions to see the dispatches safe in deSerigny's hands 
 then, at least, I would be absolved from any blame in 
 the matter. Serigny held me responsible, and it would 
 perhaps be the part of wisdom to act independently of 
 Jerome, report fully to Serigny, and if it were then his 
 wish that the investigation concerning Yvard and Mad- 
 ame du Maine be pressed to further discoveries, nothing 
 would be easier than to return to Paris almost before Je- 
 rome could miss me. I need tell Serigny nothing of 
 my suspicion of Jerome; even if true,, his animosity 
 would vanish with the cause which gave it birth. 
 
 There was much to acquaint Serigny with, much per- 
 chance he knew already. Paris swarmed with rumors. 
 Every lip was busy with second-hand gossip coming, as 
 each relator declared, from the most reliable sources. 
 "My cousin, who is laundress to the Countess de La- 
 nois, says," and upon this immaculate authority the 
 (180)
 
 THE FLIGHT FROM SCEAUX l8l 
 
 butcher upon his morning rounds detailed the most de- 
 lightful and impossible gossip to his customers. 
 
 "Pierre, my son, the valet, who is in the confidence 
 of the Duke of Gesvres, heard His Grace say with his 
 own lips" and so the wine-room stories flew, gath- 
 ering strength and falsehood as they went. But the 
 story of to-day gave the lie to that of yesterday, and no 
 man knew the truth. 
 
 War with Spain filled every mouth, yet none had a 
 why or a wherefore. The King said "war," and all his 
 nation echoed. No, not all. Many there were who 
 gave voice to the cry with hearts that rebelled, with 
 clear brains questioning the right of one man to plunge 
 a whole people into renewed slaughter. These held their 
 peace for the sake of their necks. "/ am the State," 
 Louis had declared, and such ideas were not for the 
 canaille to have ; they must curb their tongues to cheat 
 the gibbet. Being a soldier and under orders, I had no 
 right to form opinions, but, sobered in some degree by 
 these reflections, paced about until it came time to take 
 horse and away. 
 
 "In the name of the wandering Ulysses, Placide, 
 where have you been these two good hours?" said 
 Jerome, suddenly coming toward me. 
 
 "Has it been so long? I tired of the crowd and 
 strolled alone through the gardens." 
 
 His quick eye caught sight of the handkerchief 
 tucked snugly in my belt. 
 
 "A lady? And so soon?" he bantered me. 
 
 My tell-tale flush permitted no denial, nor did I care
 
 1 82 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 to discuss it. As we talked we drifted into a small room 
 just off the main hall. 
 
 "By the way, Placide, had we better not place our 
 dispatches in some safe hiding until we leave here? It 
 might be suspected we have them. The devil only 
 knows what that scheming de Valence and du Maine may 
 not unearth. Their spies are everywhere." 
 
 I agreed with him. It was as well; anything to gain 
 time and allay suspicion. But I understood my lady's 
 warning was true; his earnestness convinced me. 
 
 "Where do you carry them?" 
 
 "Sewn in the lining of my cloak," I replied. A lie, 
 but pardonable. 
 
 "Why, you careless fellow ; they tuaybe lost. Where 
 is your cloak?" seeing I did not have it. 
 
 "In charge of Damien; he is trusty." 
 
 "Better have it yourself; wait here, I will go and 
 fetch it." 
 
 I congratulated myself on this diplomatic stroke, for 
 Jerome was about to start off in all haste when Damien 
 himself appeared, and before I could stop him, deliv- 
 ered the message. 
 
 "The horses are saddled and at the door/' 
 
 "Go and wait with them." 
 
 Jerome had taken my cloak from the fellow's arm, for 
 in fact he had '*., and now laid it across his knee. His 
 blank expression showed utter astonishment at the dis- 
 closure 
 
 "What does this rrean? We are to rest here to- 
 night?"
 
 THE FLIGHT FROM SCEAUX .183 
 
 "No; I ride to Paris." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "I am afraid." 
 
 "Of what?" 
 
 "Of everything. We are in the house of our enemies, 
 and it is the quality of courage to be discreet." 
 
 During this brief dialogue Jerome was stealthily run- 
 ning his hands through the lining of my cloak until he 
 comprehended I had misled him. I could almost put 
 his thought in words. Together we arose, laying each 
 our hands upon the half-closed door, he to hold it, I to 
 open it, steady-eyed, and each reluctant to cause the 
 breach we knew must come. 
 
 "Placide, the papers are not here," he said in a quiet 
 tone, yet full of determination. 
 
 "I know it." 
 
 "Why have you deceived me then?" for he could 
 mask his purposes no longer, "Hand me those dis- 
 patches." 
 
 "No. My orders are to place them in the hands of 
 Serigny." 
 
 "But I must have them." 
 
 "And I tell you as firmly, you can not." 
 
 "Listen, Captain," he begged in altered tones, 
 "those dispatches may compromise Celeste. Let us 
 take from them anything which implicates her in this mis- 
 erable intrigue, and deliver the rest. That is easy. I 
 can open and close them again so it can not be told." 
 . "My orders are not to open them." 
 
 "By God, you will !"'he burst out with volcanic fury,
 
 1 84 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 "no, no; lam too hot. We can lose them; tell Se- 
 rigny they were never found ; tell him Yvard carried 
 them off; tell him he never had them. We can fix a 
 tale." 
 
 "It would be a long story, and a liar must needs have 
 a good memory." 
 
 I was playing for time, time to think, time to get 
 away. 
 
 "But I will go with you to Serigny," he insisted, "tell 
 the lie and make him to believe. 'Pshaw, man, you 
 know not the ways of the world, at least not at the Court 
 of France." 
 
 "Think, Jerome, of the war, of our people in the col- 
 onies, of our honor?" 
 
 "I care not for it all," the wild passion in his voice 
 made me almost fear him. "All that is as nothing to 
 me where Celeste is concerned. Oh, Placide, think of 
 it ! I love her, love her, love her do you comprehend 
 what that means to such a man as I? I, who have 
 loved her almost from her birth, have seen her taken 
 from me and sold yes, sold by her money-loving father, 
 sold, sold! I, who have borne all her husband's leers 
 when, flushed with the insolence of rank and wine, this 
 shriveled bridegroom bore her as a piece of ornament 
 to his house in Paris. Can I bear to lose her now? 
 
 "But, Jerome, you would not be such a coward as to 
 permit our brethren in the colonies to be slaughtered, 
 while you tell your pitiful lie to shield a woman? It 
 can not be done. What a fool you ore come to be. Man, 
 max, where is your courage?"
 
 THE FLIGHT FROM SCEAUX 185 
 
 "I care not. Love for such a woman would make of 
 Truth a liar, and of Jove a fool. Think, Placide, think 
 of her, Celeste, in the Bastille, the irons cutting into her 
 delicate hands, those hands which I have so fondly held 
 within my own the cold stones for her bed. Or, worse : 
 The block, the headsman and the jeering rabble. Have 
 you no feeling, man? Suppose there was some woman 
 whom you loved a guilty love, I grant but so strong, 
 so deep, so overpowering, you could not master it? Sup- 
 pose she were threatened, would you not protect her even 
 if you lost your life; yea, bartered away your honor?" 
 
 A pale little tearful face thrust itself before me as he 
 spoke, and I knew my own weak heart. I confess his 
 pleading staggered me, and I hesitated. He came 
 closer ; all the love and fear of a strong and desperate 
 man wove itself into his words. 
 
 "Could you only have seen her two hours ago when 
 you left her chamber ; have heard her sobs, felt the trem- 
 ble of her heart when she threw herself, just as when a child 
 she used to do, into my arms pleading for protection! 
 Those dispatches will ruin her. She so calm, so proud, 
 so brave to all the world, wept like a terrified baby upon 
 my breast. Placide, I'd die and go to hell to save her. 
 She so cold and pure, her very name is a reproach to this 
 flock of butterfly women. This woman loves me, loves me 
 even though that love be what men call dishonor. Bah ! I 
 hate the word. Her father never sold her heart. No, 
 that was mine, forever mine. Had I but foreseen this I'd 
 have left you rotting in Bertrand's dungeon. No, no.
 
 1 36 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 Placide, I meant it not; I'm not myself; forgive me, 
 comrade; pity her and pity me." 
 
 I vaguely wondered what there could be in the packet 
 to cause him so sincere an apprehension. But I must 
 think of my people and be strong. I denied him once 
 for all He sprang at me with the fury of a demon. Be- 
 ing the cooler and stronger, I threw him off easily and 
 reached the door as he came again with his sword. It 
 was a delicate predicament. I could easily kill him. 
 Wild with a lover's fear, he left his front open to my 
 blade, but I'd had enough of death. He paused to 
 shove a table from his path, which gave me time to open 
 and slip through the door. 
 
 In a moment he rushed out behind me, pale and 
 panting. The corridor, deserted, echoed to our flying 
 steps. I ran on ahead making my way toward the 
 horses. Meeting people outside, we had to slacken our 
 gait, smile, and conceal the realities of the situation, 
 the necessity for which he apprehended as quickly as I. 
 
 Four horses stood ready, and choosing the one I 
 thought best fitted for a hard chase it was evident we 
 could not afford to fight it out at Sceaux and to fight 
 seemed now his purpose I vaulted lightly into the sad- 
 dle, and before Jerome could hinder, had jumped the 
 low wall and taken the direct road to Paris. 
 
 Practiced horseman as Jerome was, it took him no 
 time to follow, and his grooms joined in the chase. 
 
 On, on, we sped. Trees, fences, walls and people 
 all melted into one motley and indistinguishable stream. 
 In the open road we strung out, according to the speed
 
 THE FLIGHT FROM SCEAUX 1 87 
 
 of our mounts, one of the grooms dropping farther and 
 farther in the rear. The distance between Jerome and 
 myself, despite his frantic belaborings of his brave steed, 
 grew steadily greater. 
 
 Just before we passed a crooked lane off to the left, 
 leading whither I knew not, Jerome turned in his sad- 
 dle and called to the two grooms now well to the rear. 
 
 "That way quick; to the Versailles road. Cut him 
 off." 
 
 The fellows obeyed, reining their horses into a swing- 
 ing lope, as, less hurried, they took the lane indicated. 
 Jerome thence rode on after me alone. The situation 
 was now becoming awkward. I had acted without cool 
 consideration heretofore, taking the Paris road because 
 it was the only one I knew, and trusting thereafter 
 largely to fortune. Now, as I caught occasional 
 glimpses of the city spires, the towers of Notre Dame, I 
 must perforce remember I had no hopes from them. 
 The crazed man behind knew the city well, while to me 
 it was a labyrinth of difficulty. I had no friends, while 
 he counted many. I must act, and that quickly. Had 
 I but known enough to turn down that lane into the 
 Versailles road I could have reached the palace without 
 molestation, thanks to my good luck in picking the best 
 horse of the lot. Thinking of the lane brought an idea 
 which promised well. 
 
 Moderating my speed gradually I suffered Jerome to 
 draw nearer. I then called over my shoulder that as 
 we were now man to man, we might dismount and fight 
 it out upon a piece of level sward beside the road. His
 
 1 88 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 horse was nearly spent, and inflamed to fury by the fear 
 of my escape, he eagerly agreed. While we parleyed, 
 I worked myself into a position near his horse's head, 
 and as he prepared to alight, snatched my sword and 
 with a quick upper cut severed one rein near the bit. 
 The blade having cut his horse slightly under his throat, 
 he reared and plunged, and finding himself uncontrolled 
 started madly off down the road, Jerome cursing, 
 screaming and clinging to his mane. 
 
 I had to laugh at the success of my stratagem, for 
 though it was a scurvy trick to play an old friend, it was 
 much the simplest way out of the difficulty to dispose 
 of him in this bloodless fashion. I put my horse about 
 now without interference. When I wheeled down the 
 lane toward Versailles, Jerome's clatter and dust was 
 just dying away over the crest of a distant hill, making 
 most excellent time in the direction of Paris. 
 
 Now that this new danger was past, I rode on heavy- 
 hearted enough, for I had grown to love Jerome, and 
 blamed him little for his sudden touch of fury. For I 
 was nearly in the same boat, borne on by the same 
 strong currents as Jerome. 
 
 Verily, what will man not do for woman? Love had 
 turned him from a courteous nobleman of France, a 
 brave and kindly gentleman, into the frenzied coward 
 who would lie to his master, slay his friend, and turn 
 traitor to his countrymen. A god could not love and 
 be wise. 
 
 I jogged along slowly, seeking to rest my horse, for 
 I could not tell how soon I must look to his speed for
 
 "... With a quick upper cut I severed one rein near the bit." p.
 
 THE FLIGHT FROM SCEAUX 189 
 
 safety. It was necessary also that I should see the two 
 fellows who watched the Versailles road before they 
 caught sight of me Possibly an artifice might avail me 
 where force would fail. 
 
 Presently from a slight eminence the broad highway 
 could be seen winding out of Paris, glistening in the 
 starlight, for it was now after dusk, twisting in dusty 
 undulations toward the distant palace of the King. I 
 drew rein among some trees which served for shelter, 
 and scanned the way to see if the watchers were in 
 sight. The lane, before it entered the Versailles road, 
 branched out into two portions, one bearing away to- 
 ward Paris, while the other traversed a piece of low 
 ground that struck the main road several hundred yards 
 in the other direction. Within the irregular triangle 
 thus formed the two grooms had thrown themselves 
 upon the ground, being distinctly visible in a little clear- 
 ing. 
 
 Their position commanded quite a considerable stretch 
 of road toward the city, and as by going that way it 
 would take a good hour and a half of hard riding to get so 
 far, it was certain they did not expect me to pass for 
 some time. That cut-off through the lane must have 
 been ten miles the shorter journey. 
 
 This reflection gave me some hope that I might be 
 able to slip by in a gallop before they could take horse. 
 Yet I could not afford to waste much time, for Jerome 
 might perchance find means to follow, and would not be 
 in a pleasant humor. There could be no accounting for
 
 I9O THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 the lengths to which his desperation and folly might 
 carry him. I had need for both haste and caution. 
 
 I was now at the top of a slight hillock, the grooms 
 resting at the foot. As ill fortune would have it, my 
 horse's hoof loosened a stone, and one of them looking up 
 recognized my figure clear drawn against the fading 
 colors of the sky. They both j umped up with an alertness 
 which would have done credit to old woodsmen, and be- 
 fore I could dodge by, had remounted and taken posses- 
 sion of the road. My more elevated position and perhaps 
 better hearing, too, enabled me to detect the coming of 
 persons along the road from Paris. Certainly as many 
 as three or four horsemen, perhaps a vehicle. It could 
 hardly be possible that Jerome had made the trip so 
 quickly, yet I did not know what other and shorter way 
 he might find. At any rate every instant intensified the 
 danger, for if it were Jerome, then, indeed, I could not 
 hope to make Versailles that night. 
 
 Listening more critically I decided they were travel- 
 ling too slowly to be Jerome's party. 
 . I would then most gladly have charged the insolents 
 in front and taken all chances, but my half hour of quiet 
 thought had brought me the conclusion it was too much 
 to risk my life, at least until Serigny was acquainted with 
 the information we had gained. I, too, was the only 
 person who knew of the traitors on board le Dauphin. 
 
 "Who are you, and what do you mean stopping a 
 gentleman's path?" I called to the twain who had 
 drawn a little away from the foot of the hill seeing the
 
 THE FLIGHT FROM SCEAUX 19 1 
 
 disadvantage of their former position in case I charged 
 them, and preferring to receive me on the open ground. 
 
 "No harm, Monsieur, we only mean to detain you 
 until M. de Greville comes up," the slender man spoke 
 quite politely. 
 
 "M. de Greville will not come up this night may 
 God have mercy on his soul," I added solemnly. 
 
 "Why not, fine sir?" the gruffer fellow on the big 
 bay questioned with some heat. I made no quibble on 
 his manner, but replied: 
 
 "I doubt I have slain him. He lies back yonder in 
 the road to Sceaux, and I know not whether he be dead 
 or still lives." 
 
 They hesitated and consulted together in a low tone; 
 I saw my opportunity to press their indecision. 
 
 "What excuse can you make and what authority have 
 you for halting an officer of the King with dispatches 
 to the King? With M. Jerome de Greville to stand be- 
 tween you and harm it was dangerous enough ; now it 
 is a matter of hanging." 
 
 "But M. de Greville is not dead," they protested 
 together, "we left him a few minutes since alive and 
 well." I seized upon the vacillation manifest in their 
 voices and proceeded with confidence . 
 
 "Then how think you I came along this road? Think 
 you M. Jerome would let me go so easily? You know 
 his temper too well. Does he change his mind like a 
 woman? I turned about to take the nearer path, and 
 see, his blood is not yet dry upon my sword." 
 
 "We do not believe you. It is some trick."
 
 192 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 "If you will but move this way and give me clear 
 passage to Versailles, I will go and say nothing. You 
 can then return and minister to your master." 
 
 "Nay, we'll hold the road an hour, which gives him 
 time to come up. An hour gone and you may pursue 
 your journey." 
 
 "Then, forsooth, one of you can make his peace with 
 God. I'll shoot your stoutest bully and try blades 
 with the other." 
 
 I raised the pistol which had been concealed unknown 
 to Jerome, and to say the truth, it looked formidable 
 enough all a-glitter beneath the rising moon, though 
 I doubted much if I could strike my mark. 
 
 As I started resolutely onward I warned them: 
 "Pull your nags off in yonder level space, leave the left 
 fork free, or by the gods, you burly black-haired ras- 
 cal, I'll take the first shot at you, you make the fairest 
 target. Way there, in the King's name!" 
 
 As is ever so with low-born churls, and no gentle- 
 man to command, each looked to the other for some act 
 of heroism, and each sought his own safety. 
 
 They stood their ground only an instant, then pulled 
 aside as I had bidden them. As soon as I passed them 
 a decent distance as if I had no fear, I put spurs to my 
 good steed, and, breathing more freely than I had done 
 for many days, heard the merry pounding of his hoofs 
 upon the open way to my mission's end.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 SERIGNY'S DEPARTURE 
 
 THE clocks were striking, one after the other in mo- 
 notonous imitative fashion, the hour of nine when 
 I delivered my horse to a sleepy groom at the little tav- 
 ern just outside the Versailles gate. 
 
 Serigny was already in his rooms, intent on some 
 business, and opened his door himself. There was no 
 need for concealing his gratification and the intense im- 
 patience he felt to know results, nor did he make any 
 attempt at concealment. On the contrary, he was as 
 urgent as a school child. Everything about him, packed 
 in boxes and traveling bags, seemed prepared for in- 
 stant journey. Upon his table a few disarranged papers 
 were scattered beside a leathern portfolio, through 
 which he had evidently been looking when I arrived. 
 Without stopping to replace any of the documents he 
 hastened me to a seat, and drawing his chair close, com- 
 manded me to begin. My coming had been so sudden 
 I had given no consideration to the nature of my report 
 to Serigny, and found some difficulty in gathering ideas 
 together in such shape they would be understood. I 
 had hardly begun my statement when quick steps 
 
 13-BfcACK WOLJ (193)
 
 194 THE BLACK WQLFS BREED 
 
 sounded along the outer passage followed by an almost 
 imperative knock on the door. Jerome, I thought. So 
 it was. Jerome, bespattered and soiled from his hard 
 ride, a raw bruise across his cheek, his clothing awry. 
 He was pale and determined, yet quiet withal. 
 
 I instinctively rose and laid my hand to my hilt. A 
 glance reassured me. His purpose, lying deeper, I could 
 not divine; it was plain though he brooded not that 
 kind of quarrel. Nor do I to this day know what he 
 intended when he first entered Serigny's room that 
 night. 
 
 "I rode after you in all haste, Captain." 
 
 "Indeed you did," I mentally agreed. 
 
 "And met a fall, which, as you see, has somewhat 
 disfigured me," and he laughed, while I agreed with 
 him again. 
 
 Serigny, being so intent on the important transactions 
 of the hour, accepted his explanation without question. 
 The welcome, though cordial, was brief, Serigny being 
 a man of no unnecessary words. 
 
 "Go on, Captain," and I picked up the broken 
 thread of my narrative where Jerome had interrupted. 
 
 As I went on obediently, Jerome would now and 
 again supply some link wherein my memory failed, or 
 suggest something I had left unsaid, until having so 
 much the nimbler tongue he took the telling out of my 
 mouth entirely. I could not complain, for he detailed 
 the various adventures far better than I, and gave me 
 more of the credit than I would have claimed for myself. 
 We had, by common consent, forgotten pur late strife,
 
 SERIGNY'S DEPARTURE 195 
 
 and becoming much interested I broke in upon a glow- 
 ing account of my heroism : 
 
 "Hold, Jerome, by my faith, you grow more garru- 
 lous than a fish-wife of the barriers; tell but a plain, 
 straight tale, and leave off all that romantic garniture of 
 thine," and thence I reclaimed my straggling story and 
 brought it to a conclusion. All this while the dispatches 
 for which we had risked so much lay safe in my breast. 
 I rather hesitated to produce them, dreading what the 
 hot-headed fellow might do to get a hold upon that 
 which peradventure would cause trouble to his lady love. 
 I could not decline when Serigny asked for them, but 
 hauled out both packets, one taken from Yvard, the 
 other from Broussard, casting them upon the table. 
 Jerome eyed them so I that knew from the look his late 
 fury was not yet dead, and I watched him in readiness 
 for any move he might make to repossess them. 
 
 He sat as unconcerned as if the whole affair interested 
 him no further, now that the main object oi his solici- 
 tude was safe in the keeping of his superior. I mis- 
 doubted whether this was not all a sham, and could 
 hardly believe him the same frenzied Jerome who had 
 pleaded so hard, and fought so desperately for this self- 
 same packet of Yvard's, which at this time reposed 
 within easy reach of his hand. Once he reached out 
 and took it up negligently, inspected the seals and 
 marks, then replaced it. His examination seemed one 
 of mere idle curiosity, or would have so appeared had I 
 not known that he was already perfectly acquainted with 
 every mark borne by our charge. The eyes, half closed
 
 196 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 in dreamy contemplation, spoke apparently of a man 
 who has been relieved of some grave responsibility and 
 enjoys the relaxation, yet, for all of that, he was listen- 
 ing most intently to what Serigny and I were talking of. 
 Serigny was now fondling the instruments which were to 
 be the restoration of his own and his brother's influ- 
 ence. His words were addressed to neither of us in 
 particular. 
 
 "Here is the seal of Spain. Cellemare again, Egad! 
 They are bold, or must have great confidence in their 
 emissaries. Here, too, is Madame. Ah, my clever 
 little lady, you have outdone your own cleverness at last. 
 I fancy even the King's old love for his son's mother 
 will not save you now. I would I knew what was in 
 them." 
 
 "We can easily see, and close them snug again," 
 ventured Jerome, but noting Serigny's frown, he turned 
 it off with a laugh, "or so our friend Madame would 
 advise." 
 
 "It thus became manifest he had not abandoned his 
 idea of intercepting whatever might compromise Mad- 
 ame de Chartrain. 
 
 Serigny continued: "These must be placed before 
 the King unopened by any of us. Yes, it's a risk," he 
 caught Jerome's knotted brow of indecision, "I grant 
 you it is a risk, for I know not what complications are 
 here contained. I will myself seek the King, and with 
 these am sure to gain his own ear." 
 
 Jerome all this while uttered no other word, nervously
 
 SERIGNY'S DEPARTURE 197 
 
 flicking the mud splotches off his boots, and lifting an 
 earnest look now and anon to Serigny. 
 
 My own mind was busy devising means to foil any 
 contemplated treachery upon his part, and wondering 
 whether it was not my duty to acquaint Serigny with 
 the whole truth of the matter. The test came when I 
 least expected it. When all our adventures had been 
 detailed again and again, his dozens of incisive questions 
 answered, our conversation naturally drifted toward the 
 future. My mission in France completed, there was 
 nothing now but a return to the colonies, and the un- 
 certainties of a campaign which I no longer doubted 
 was imminent. Somehow the thought of a great and 
 glorious war did not appeal to me so forcibly as such a 
 prospect would have done some few weeks agone. 
 
 There was ever a shy little face, a brave girlish figure 
 which stood resolute and trembling before me in the 
 park, that intruded between me and the barbaric 
 splendor of our western wars. Nor did I raise a hand 
 to brush the vision aside. It toned down the innate 
 savagery of man, softened the stern, callous impulses of 
 the soldier, and all the currents of my being trickled 
 through quieter, sweeter channels of life and love. Even 
 the shame of it made not the thought less sweet. 
 
 There was but trifling period to spare for such gentler 
 musings, for Serigny, by a gesture, called attention to 
 his well packed luggage. 
 
 "See, I am ready. I only waited your coming and 
 report to put out at once for le Dauphin. My people 
 have already gone forward to arm and provision her for
 
 198 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 the struggle. We must be prompt. There is much to 
 lose in a day. I myself will go on to-morrow and have 
 all in complete readiness for the voyage, and, who 
 knows, for the fighting on the other side. Now give 
 heed Placide Captain de Mouret, ' ' for he was always 
 particular to distinguish the man from the soldier, and 
 in giving orders to address me by my proper title. 
 "The war has been decided upon; you will remain here 
 and watch developments" he was proceeding to ac- 
 quaint me with what was expected of me. I knew not 
 what he might say, but felt impelled to throw out a 
 silent warning, which even though he understood it not, 
 he was quick enough to take. He paused and looked 
 me inquisitively in the face. I glanced awkwardly from 
 him to Jerome and back again. 
 
 The thought then dominant was a growing distrust 
 of Jerome, and the desire to have our movements secret. 
 I remembered Bienville's words "We know not who to 
 trust," and being ignorant of what orders Serigny 
 meant to give, or how much information they would 
 convey to Jerome, deemed it best to let all the occur- 
 rences of the day come out. I could not forget the 
 lad's gallantry, nor must I lose sight of the fact that as 
 affairs now were, he might very well have gone over to 
 the other side for the sake of Madame ; things stranger 
 than that took place every day, and I had learned to be 
 discreet. He might thus come into valuable hints and 
 afterward cast them into the scale against Bienville, for 
 every means good or bad would be used by them to 
 save their own influence, to uplift the Duke of Maine.
 
 SERIGNY S DEPARTURE 199 
 
 If Bienville were involved in the general ruin, why, what 
 mattered it to them? 
 
 While I remained hesitating for a word, Jerome's 
 ready wit had already comprehended my purpose. He 
 took the words from my lips. His countenance first 
 flushed, then became hard and fixed, compelling me for 
 the time into silence. 
 
 "Monsieur de Serigny, I perhaps can speak you 
 better our good Captain's mind. He mistrusts me ." 
 
 "You?" burst out Serigny greatly surprised. "Why 
 you have ever been our staunch and loyal friend. What 
 is this, Captain de Mouret, surely you are above a young 
 man's jealousy?" 
 
 Jerome gave me no time to explain. 
 
 "Softly, softly, sir. The Captain has good cause. 
 Give me heed, my friends. To you, M. de Serigny, I 
 will say upon my honor, which until this day was never 
 stained by thought or deed, I will say, this day I would 
 have betrayed you. Nay, do not look so pained and 
 unbelieving; all men are mortal, and passions stronger 
 even than duty, stronger than loyalty, yea, stronger 
 than honor itself, may tyrannize over the best of us. I 
 repeat, this day would I gladly have betrayed you, be- 
 trayed my friends to save well it boots not whom, but a 
 woman. For the woman I love may lose her liberty if 
 not her life when those accursed papers reach the hands 
 of the King. I was mad, and at this moment doubt and 
 fear myself. It is better not to trust me with your plans ; 
 the Captain is right. Jerome de Greville never yet de- 
 ceived a friend, but for the love of God, Messires, do
 
 2OO THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 not tempt him now," and he faced about with unsteady 
 step and started toward the door. Before we could de- 
 tain him he was gone, leaving Serigny staring in the 
 most unbelieving and bewildered fashion at me." 
 
 "In God's name, Captain, what piece of folly is this? 
 Tell me all, for ofttimes the success of the most careful 
 plans is governed by just such undercurrents as this, of 
 man's love or woman's spite. Go on, I listen." 
 
 I explained briefly Madame's position, Serigny nod- 
 ding his acquiescence; it was an old tale to him, except 
 he did not know Jerome's relations with Madame. Of 
 her domination over the Duke of Maine he was well 
 aware. When my story was fully done he pondered 
 for a long while in silence. His sorrow was deep and 
 sincere. 
 
 "Poor fellow; poor fellow; as noble a lad as ever 
 drew a sword, but in his present frame of mind it is 
 safer not to trust him; he is capable of any act of 
 desperation. We will do our best to protect his lady, 
 though. Where was I? This matter has disturbed me 
 Oh, yes, about to give your orders. You see I am all 
 ready to leave. I have but waited your return. The war 
 has been decided on and the news needs only to be given 
 out. The King hesitates and wavers ; Chamillard is a 
 mere reflection of the royal whim. If we do not attack the 
 Spaniard he will attack us ; it is simply a question of 
 whether we want the war at Biloxi or Havana. For my 
 part I would rather see Havana in siege than Biloxi. 
 This matter can not be long delayed, a few days more 
 at most. These dispatches may decide. With these
 
 SERIGNY'S DEPARTURE 201 
 
 before the King he will no longer doubt my brother, but 
 will place the blame where it most properly belongs 
 for in the main, Louis is just. I would not desire any 
 greater pleasure than to see the gibbet whereon these 
 traitors of the itching palms, these thieves who sell their 
 King for Spanish gold, will take their last dance. Do 
 you remain here for as many as six days, this room is 
 at your disposal. Be quiet and discreet; learn all and 
 tell nothing. A still tongue is the safest in these times. 
 The moment war is declared make all speed for Dieppe 
 and we will up anchor and away." 
 
 Serigny was as happy as a boy at the prospect of ac- 
 tion ; the atmosphere of court ill agreed with his fiery 
 temper. This was the gist of our plan of operations, 
 and it was so arranged in detail. 
 
 In a few moments Serigny left me, taking the packet 
 with him, and I in excess of caution followed him at a 
 little distance, locking the door behind me and keeping 
 the key in my pocket. I bore his tall figure well in 
 sight until he passed out of the unfrequented halls into 
 that portion of the palace where the many shuttlecocks 
 of fortune congregated to laugh and talk and plot and 
 lie. Not long after he came back, sorely nettled and 
 disappointed. 
 
 "It is done; the King has them in his own hands; 
 yet he does not talk ; promises nothing ; is closeted with 
 his ministers; they must be of considerable importance. 
 It is all secure for us, for I told him of my departure in 
 the morning to the colonies, and he assented. I judge, 
 then, it is something of a very delicate nature, touching
 
 202 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 the royal honor of the King's own blood. Besides much 
 is in cipher which it will take time to read. Louis, 
 you know, would not admit, save to those nearest his 
 throne, the possession of the secret Spanish cipher." 
 
 The night passed by dismal and uncertain enough. 
 I must confess to a great sinking of the heart when I 
 saw Serigny's carriage roll away in the gray of the early 
 morning, leaving me absolutely alone in my father's 
 land of France, where in the short space of two weeks so 
 much had transpired; much to be ever remembered, 
 much I would have given worlds to forget. 
 
 It must have been a most forlorn and dejected lock- 
 ing creature that stood in the great square that sunless 
 morning, peering into the mists which had absorbed the 
 carriage. The solitude of vast untrodden forests breeds 
 not that vacant sense of desolation which we children of 
 nature feel in the crowded haunts of men. Face after 
 face, form after form, voice after voice, yet not one 
 familiar countenance, not one remembered tone, not the 
 glance of a kindly eye; all is new, all is strange, all 
 at seeming enmity. The defection of Jerome, my only 
 comrade, was indeed a cup of bitterness. I dreaded to 
 meet him, not knowing what tack he might cut away on. 
 Yet I could not blame him ; it was more of pity I felt. 
 
 I recall with great delight some of the minor occur- 
 rences of the next three or four days. After Serigny's 
 departure, every afternoon at imminent risk I would 
 take horse to Sceaux, and pursuing a by-way through 
 the forests and fields, through which a wood -cutter first 
 led me, ride hard to catch a glimpse of her who now
 
 SERIGNY'S DEPARTURE 203 
 
 occupied all my thoughts. I wonder at this time how 
 I then held so firm by the duty of returning to the col- 
 onies, when the very thought of war and turmoil was 
 so distasteful to me. When I rode to Paris and 
 clothed myself once more in my own proper garments, 
 their friendly folds gave me a new courage to meet 
 whatever Fate might send. 
 
 It may be pertinent to chronicle here, what history 
 has already recorded, the result of placing those dis- 
 patches in the King's hands. 
 
 The Duke of Maine, as all the world knows, dis- 
 avowed his wife's act in treating with Spain, and thus 
 saved his own dainty carcass from sharing her captivity 
 in the Bastille. But both he and Madame were im- 
 prisoned until he made most abject submission and apol- 
 ogy to Orleans. 
 
 Madame de Chartrain was sent to a provincial fortress, 
 and bore her incarceration with great fortitude, winning 
 even from her enemies the admiration always accorded 
 to firmness and virtue. 
 
 Philip of Orleans being once firmly established in the 
 Regency, changed his usual course, and pardoned many 
 of those who had conspired against him. Their prison 
 doors were opened, and the Duke of Maine, becoming 
 reconciled to his haughty lady, forgave her and gained 
 great credit thereby in the vulgar mind. They spent 
 their lives quietly at Sceaux during the Regency, and 
 naught else of them concerns this history. 
 
 Phil'p of Orleans possessed some of the virtues of a 
 great man, and many of a good man. but these he kept
 
 2O4 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 ever locked within his own bosom. His mother, the 
 rigid and austere Madame, said once of him : 
 
 "Though good fairies have gifted my son at his birth 
 with numerous noble qualities, one envious member of 
 the sisterhood spitefully decreed that he should never 
 know how to use any of these gifts." Such was the 
 character of the Regent. 
 
 Of Jerome and Madame de Chartrain I would fain tell 
 more, but during the troubled times in America I 
 completely lost sight of them, and my inquiries devel- 
 oped nothing of sufficient verity to give credence to here. 
 
 All Frenchmen know of Jerome's gallant death at 
 Malplaquet. It is a fireside legend now, and young 
 French lads turn their moistened eyes away at the 
 hearing. Marshal Villars being sorely hurt and in peril 
 of capture, there fought beside his litter an unknown 
 gentleman who, without name or rank, yet bore himself 
 so commandingly, the discouraged guard rallied again 
 and gave him willing obedience. Arrived at a narrow 
 bridge he urged the litter-bearers safely across, and 
 fighting at the rear to be himself the last to reach a place 
 of safety, he was struck and fell. Prince Eugene, the 
 courteous enemy, who had himself witnessed the inci- 
 dent, sent a guard of honor to the Marshal at Valen- 
 ciennes the next day with the body, deeming it that of 
 a man of consequence. His letter congratulated the 
 defeated Villars upon having such chivalric friends. 
 
 It was poor Jerome, and no one knew him then. He 
 rests now with his fathers. 
 
 I loved the lad truly. As knightly a gentleman as 
 ever died for his King, or lied for his lady.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE CASTLE OF CARTILLON 
 
 TWO days, four, passed. Serigny had departed for 
 Dieppe to arm and equip le Dauphin, yet still 
 there was no official declaration of war. I was waiting, 
 as he had ordered, for the formal declaration, on the 
 publication of which I was to join him on board at once 
 and we would set sail instantly for Biloxi. 
 
 Another anxious day, during which I vacillated be- 
 tween an ignoble love and a noble duty. Then, late in 
 the evening, the whole court was fanned into a blaze des- 
 tined to spread throughout Europe and America, by the 
 announcement that the war had been formally decided 
 upon. 
 
 Men may long look forward to a crushing calamity, 
 and when it comes be surprised and unprepared. So, 
 though I well knew I must leave France with all speed, 
 and possibly never see her shores again, I put it from 
 me as persistently as men do the certainty of death. 
 Every day did I ride to Sceaux, by the old wall, and 
 catch a glimpse of her I loved. When war was at last 
 declared there was no time for parleying with duty. My 
 path lay straight and clear before me ; yet for once a sol- 
 dier's duty and a soldier's adventure gave me no pleas- 
 ure. All my thoughts were otherwhere. 
 (205)
 
 206 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 Hot-foot to Sceaux again I rode on my way to Dieppe, 
 and from the same embrasure at the wall where my 
 horses had trampled down the foliage many times, I 
 watched her coming. It was not for long. More hur- 
 riedly than was her custom she glided, a glorified young 
 creature, in and out amongst the shrubbery, until the 
 envious chapel door hid her from my sight. No living 
 thing was in view. The sound of no discordant voice 
 broke the holy peace of God. Temptation came never 
 to our first erring mother in more insidious guise than 
 this. 
 
 Where was the harm, I reasoned, it was but for an 
 instant's speech with her, ere the bounding seas would 
 roll between us. So with nervous haste I tumbled from 
 my horse and tethered him stoutly to a tree. Over the 
 wall and to the chapel door took another instant, and 
 there, inside, at the rail, she knelt. I paused, as a 
 sinner might, hesitating to mar with heart profane the de- 
 votions of a saint. My foot struck a cracking board in 
 the entry, and drew her glance toward me. She sprang 
 up as I entered, with a swift cry of surprise, and, as I 
 fancied, some whit of gladness in the tone. 
 
 "You, Monsieur? You here? I thought you away 
 from Sceaux." 
 
 "Yes, Madame, true; but I returned to speak with 
 you before I leave France forever. I came here to to 
 " I could not tell her why; my heart, so full, clogged 
 my utterance. But women ever understand. 
 
 As I cast about me for a word, we had drawn closer, 
 and taking the hand which half-hid in the folds of her
 
 THE CASTLE OF CARTILLON 2O/ 
 
 dress, gleamed more white and pure, I would have raised 
 it to my lips. Even at such a time I noted the device 
 upon a ring she wore, a device grown so familiar: A 
 wolf's head, sable. 
 
 "An old thing of my mother's," she explained, 
 "Charles has one, and I." 
 
 I eagerly seized upon a subject which might so nat- 
 urally prolong our interview. 
 
 "Aye, I know the device well; are you of the d'Ar- 
 tins?" 
 
 "Yes, my mother was; there are now none of the 
 race. The last is a wanderer; I know not if he lives." 
 
 "I know, perchance, of such a man, Madame; would 
 you tell me more of him, of yourself?" 
 
 "I never saw him, my mother's father. Her mar- 
 riage displeased him greatly. When her first child was 
 born, a girl, she sent it to him for his blessing. He 
 denied it, saying he wanted no more of women. The 
 child died in infancy. Of my sister's birth and mine he 
 was never told. Then he went away, where, none 
 know." 
 
 It thrilled me with a new hope. Who could guess 
 but my relations with Colonel d'Ortez might throw me 
 again in her way. I took her hand again, making pre- 
 tence to examine the ring more curiously. She made 
 slight demur, and I pressed my first fervent kiss upon 
 the hand of woman. Man's fortitude could stand no 
 more. Tossing honor, discretion, duty to the winds, I 
 folded her close, closer yet, and kissed her brow, her hair,
 
 2O8 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 her eyes her lips, she struggling like a frightened nest- 
 ling all the while. It was done. 
 
 Ashamed but impenitent it was too new, too sweet 
 to wish undone I loosed her gently, and kissed her 
 hand but once again, then left her standing where the 
 light from the mullioned window in halos wreathed my 
 saint. It was thus I ever afterward remembered her. 
 
 She made no other sign ; I withdrew swiftly as I 
 came. From across the wall, unobserved, I watched 
 her leave the place, downcast of eye and slow of step. 
 In rebellious and uncertain mood I rode away. 
 
 Though the relish in my task was done, I made all 
 haste toward Dieppe. Scarcely stopping for food, 
 changing horses as often as I could, I pushed on with- 
 out adventure until I reached the Chateau Cartillon, then 
 a formless ruin. 
 
 Here my saddle girth broke and I was nearly thrown 
 to the ground. I scrambled off, walked to the little inn 
 where I inquired how far I had yet to go. 
 
 "Three leagues yet to Dieppe," the host replied, 
 "but Monsieur can not go on to-night; he must wait 
 the morrow; he can go with comfort in the morning." 
 
 I sent my groom for a new girth and found it would 
 take quite an hour to procure one from the village. 
 
 "Probably Monsieur would visit the castle upon the 
 hill there," persisted the landlord, pointing across the 
 way, "it is worth his while. It is said to have been de- 
 stroyed by the Great Henry in his wars with the Duke 
 of Mayenne. True it is that sounds of battle and
 
 THE CASTLE OF CARTILLON 2Op 
 
 screams are yet heard there on stormy nights. Proba- 
 bly Monsieur would rest here several days . " 
 
 I essayed to silence the fellow, for I was in no mood 
 to listen to his chatter. Yet there was something in his 
 eulogy of the locality, which he gave as a hawker cry- 
 ing his wares, that fixed my unwilling attention. 
 
 "And, Monsieur, perchance you may see old mad 
 Michel. What! you know naught of him? Country 
 folk do say his grandam witnessed the murder of the 
 Count, and that it sent her feeble mind a-wandering. 
 Her child through all her life did fancy herself the 
 Count, and made strange speeches to the people's fear. 
 And now this grandson of hers has grown old in frenzy 
 like his mother and grandam, possessed of an evil spirit 
 which speaks through him betimes it is a curse of the 
 blood, Monsieur, a grievous curse of the blood." 
 
 It aroused something of a curiosity within me, yet I 
 was loath to pause upon my journey. Forced, though, 
 to wait an hour, I thought to walk over to the Chateau 
 a couple of hundred yards distant. Taking a lad who 
 lounged about the inn, to show me the way, I sauntered 
 up the path, pausing a while at a long-disused spring, 
 and idly plucked an apple from a branch which over- 
 hung it. A little further up, and mounting the steep 
 acclivity, I stood within the ancient fortress. 
 
 This castle, since rebuilded, you, my children, are of 
 
 course familiar with, for you were all born here. At 
 
 that date the great central tower alone stood erect 
 
 amid the universal destruction, A black wolf's head 
 
 14 BLACK
 
 210 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 reared itself high above the portcullis. The moat was 
 filled with drift of crumbling years, and the walls, fallen 
 in many places, ran hither and thither in aimless curves 
 and angles, much as they do to-day. 
 
 Up to this hour my chronicle has been only of such 
 adventures as might befall a soldier upon any enterprise, 
 but now a strange thing happened. Until that moment 
 I had never seen the Chateau Cartillon, still there was 
 not a corner or a passage which did not seem well known 
 to me. My feet fell into paths they seemed no strangers 
 to. I seemed to know intuitively what each building 
 was for, and even imagined most vividly scenes which 
 had transpired there. The whole place had the most 
 intense personal interest for me, why I knew not. 
 
 I am not superstitious, but the ruin oppressed me, 
 made me restless and uneasy; yet I was loath to leave. 
 The loneliness of it all filled me with vague apprehen- 
 sions as I picked my way across the grass encumbered 
 court-yard toward the road again. A thousand haunt- 
 ing fancies of half familiar things thronged from out each 
 dismantled doorway. Faces I all but recognized peered 
 at me through the broken casements ; voices I almost 
 knew called to me from many a silent corner. Yet all 
 was still, all was solitude. Heartily shamed at my 
 quickening step I hurried on and having consumed a 
 quarter of my hour sat down by the spring mentioned 
 before, just beyond the castle's utmost boundary. 
 
 The haze of late afternoon had deepened into night 
 upon the peaceful meadows and lazy sweep of river, 
 A distant peasant's song came faintly from the fields.
 
 THE CASTLE OF CARTILLON 2 II 
 
 While sitting there beside the spring, gazing listlessly 
 into its placid depths, an uncanny figure made its way 
 through a breach in the bastion, and stood before me. 
 At first I confess I was startled, the wild uncouth thing, 
 bent and decrepit, with hair of long and tangled gray, 
 fiery sunken eyes, seemed born of another world than 
 this. He bent his gaze with searching scrutiny full 
 upon me. 
 
 The lad whispered: "It's old mad Michel; he 
 lives up there," pointing to a tumbled down tower, 
 "and believes himself the Count the Count, and him 
 long dead lying yonder in the well." 
 
 The boy shuddered and crossed himself. 
 
 The old man gazed steadily at me for some moments 
 then bowing low, he cried : 
 
 "Hail! Son of d'Artin! Hast come to view thine 
 own again? Let us into the walls." 
 
 "Let us go, Monsieur, quick," urged the lad, tug- 
 ging at my coat, "it is late." 
 
 The dusk in fact was coming on apace and climbing 
 shadows crept round the grotesque masonry. Unheed- 
 ing the lad's fear, I was strongly impelled to talk with 
 the daft creature. It was an impulse born not wholly of 
 idle curiosity. I felt strangely moved. 
 
 "What do you want of me, old man?" I asked. 
 
 "I am Henri d'Artin, by murder's hand laid low; I 
 would tell you much." 
 
 "Let us go, Monsieur, let us go. He speaks of un- 
 holy things," the boy pleaded fearfully. Meeting no
 
 212 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 response he turned and fled down the slope, away in the 
 twilight beneath the trees. 
 
 "Dost hear the clanking arms, the rolling drums of 
 war? List unto the shouts, the cries within. Dost not 
 know it is the day after the feast of the most Blessed 
 Saint Bartholomew?" 
 
 The man's wild earnestness fixed a spell upon me, and 
 to the end of his narrative I listened until the tale was 
 done. I can not hope to set down here as I heard it 
 what the madman said, nor to have my lines breathe 
 forth the vigor of his speech. Carried beyond mortal 
 energy by his frenzy, overmastered by some mysterious 
 Power of which we men know naught, he threw into his 
 strange, weird story a life and action which entered my 
 very soul. And as he spoke he seemed to live through 
 the scenes that he so vividly described. It was as though 
 some grim drama were being enacted for my enlighten- 
 ment. So well as I can tell it, the tale ran thus : 
 
 On yestermorn my wife, my daughter and little boy, 
 committed to the charge of old Gaston, had driven into 
 Rouen to spend the day. I rode along after them to 
 learn the news from Paris. We of the Reformed Faith 
 hoped for great things from the meeting of our leaders 
 with the Duke of Guise and the Queen Mother, for 
 King Charles seemed kindly disposed toward us. But, 
 God of Mercy ! what scenes there were in Rouen ; every- 
 where was slaughter, everywhere was murder. I found 
 my carriage overturned in the streets, covering the dead 
 and mutilated bodies of wif and daughter; the babe,
 
 1 The old man gazed steadily at me for some moments." p. 21
 
 THE CASTLE OF CARTILLON 213 
 
 unhurt and unnoticed in the carnage, had escaped. 
 Throughout the city were prowling bands wearing the 
 white cross in their caps, the white sash on their arms, 
 which designated the followers of Guise, and with cries 
 of "Death to the Huguenots" and "No quarter to the 
 enemies of Holy Church," they slew without mercy. 
 I had now no idea but to put my boy in a place of 
 safety, and with him before me rode straight for the 
 nearest gate. I passed unmolested through the streets, 
 and by avoiding the public places, drawing out of the 
 way of murdering bands, thought to evade them and 
 reach the river gate south of town. My whole soul re- 
 volted at leaving the bodies of wife and daughter in 
 Rouen, but the living child must be considered before 
 the dead. At the turn from out the obscure Rue St. 
 Croix into the open square at Vieux Marche I heard a 
 shout, "Here he is, this way," and saw a man at arms 
 stationed in the square beckoning to his comrades who 
 came clattering down the Rue de Crosne. This blocked 
 the path along which I intended to leave the town. 
 
 Riding at their head I recognized my old time enemy, 
 my half brother, Pedro Ortez, a man of whose prowess 
 and cruelty terrible stories were told. 
 
 Right willingly would I have paused to give him 
 fight, but for the babe. The fellow who had raised the 
 cry now threw himself full in my way with the evident 
 purpose of engaging me until the others came up. I 
 made straight at him, but he stood his ground bravely, 
 and encumbered as I was with the child, he succeeded 
 in wounding me twice before I could pierce him through
 
 214 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 the throat and drop him from his horse. Verily, his 
 courage was worthy a better quarrel. 
 
 This, in full sight of the oncoming band, fixed their 
 attention, and, raising the shout of "Death to d'Artin," 
 they spurred their horses to a gallop. I had barely 
 disappeared down the deserted Rue Corneille when they 
 debouched into the square, spreading out and circling 
 round as hounds hot upon a scent. Here they were at 
 fault, not knowing whither I had turned among so many 
 narrow and irregular streets. Before they found me 
 again I was well upon the high road to Cartillon. The 
 superior speed of my horse gave me easily the lead. 
 
 I soon overtook Gaston, drawn aside in the bushes, 
 wounded and bleeding, waiting for me. At first I up- 
 braided him fiercely, but a frightful gash across his 
 head, dabbling his gray hairs in blood, stopped my 
 wrath. On the ride home he told me of the day's dis- 
 aster. Pedro Ortez and his cut-throats had set upon 
 them in the name of the church. He was soon cut down 
 and left upon the street, recovering consciousness only 
 to find his murdered mistress lying dead beside him. 
 He had then crawled away to warn me, for the whole 
 object of Ortez seemed to be to take my life. 
 
 Gaston's distress was pitiful; as his mute eyes now 
 and again sought mine, I could not find it in my heart 
 to censure him. Having distanced my poorly mounted 
 pursuers I stopped to water my horse at the spring 
 before riding the few hundred yards to the gates of Car- 
 tillon. While yet waiting by the spring I was horrified 
 to see men struggling on top of the great tower. Their
 
 THE CASTLE OF CARTILLON 21 5 
 
 fight was brief and decisive. Two of them, one being 
 Maurice my most trusted man at arms, were thrown 
 violently to the courtyard below. Of the others some 
 were killed, some overpowered and carried below again. 
 
 All of this took only an instant, for it appeared but 
 the end of a desperate encounter which had been raging 
 elsewhere. The time, however, was long enough for me 
 to see that those of the larger party wore the white sash 
 and cross which distinguished my assailants in Rouen. 
 
 "God in heaven, what murder's work have we at Car- 
 tillon?" I cried aloud in my misery. Then one who 
 could answer came running toward me from the castle, 
 gashed, with snapped sword in hand. 
 
 "Oh, master, master, the Catholics, the Catholics," 
 was all he could speak out before he fell a senseless mass 
 at my horse's feet. 
 
 Cartillon was not now a refuge. 
 
 Immediately the distant sound of hoof beats came 
 loud and louder yet, from the direction of Rouen. 
 Ortez was coming. 
 
 "Quick, Gaston, we must fly.' 
 
 My overtaxed horse failed me now. Pulling the rein 
 he only sank slowly to his knees, and after a few spas- 
 modic twitches, stiffened out forever upon the rocky 
 road. I stood erect a moment, child in arms, irreso- 
 lute. There was short shrift to think. My blood re- 
 belled at flight. 
 
 "Here, Gaston, take the boy; hide in the wood. 
 Carry him to the Abbot of Vaux, and conjure the good 
 priest, by our fathers' love and ours, to save my baby."
 
 2l6 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 Gaston had hardly passed from sight among the trees 
 before a dozen well-armed horsemen, bearing the same 
 white cross in their caps, spurred round a curve in the 
 forest road, coming suddenly upon me beside my fallen 
 steed. Sword in hand, I fronted them, determined, 
 come what would, to fly no further. The evil face of 
 Ortez shone with gratification at so unexpectedly find- 
 ing me alone. 
 
 "Now, yield thee, sirrah," he cried, as his men sur- 
 rounded me. A quick sword thrust through the body 
 of his horse, brought him to the ground. 
 
 "Not yet, thou slayer of women; here, upon equal 
 footing, thy life shall pay for those of wife and child." 
 
 I verily believed the Almighty vengeance was in my 
 blade, and doubt not I should have slain him despite 
 his troopers but for a crushing pike blow over the head, 
 so swiftly did it all come about. 
 
 My brain reeled; the sword dropped clanging from 
 my nerveless hand. When I recovered, I found myself 
 bound upon a horse behind one of the men. 
 
 "On with him, men, to Cartillon; there we rest this 
 night in the King's name." 
 
 In this wise we rode along ; Ortez openly exultant, I 
 silent and scornful. 
 
 "Aha, my fine brother," he spoke low at my saddle, 
 "thy father's son has thee in his power now. And 
 shall I not revenge upon thee the wrong our father did 
 my mother for thine? Didst know the story?" 
 
 I made no reply, but he went on unmindful. 
 
 "To my mother he gave his love but dared not give
 
 THE CASTLE OF CARTILLON 2 1/ 
 
 his name ; to thy mother he gave his name but could 
 never give his love. So thou art the proud Lord of 
 Cartillon, and I the outcast soldier of fortune, the 
 nameless adventurer, slayer of women what thou wilt. 
 But things are changed now. Before many hours I 
 will be the Count d'Artin, and thou a dishonored 
 corpse, sweet brother." 
 
 "Thou! Thou my brother?" 
 
 I turned upon him a look of incredulous contempt, 
 yet, for I had heard some such tale of my father's 
 youth, I asked : 
 
 "Thy mother was ?" 
 
 "Nanon Esculas, whom thy father abducted in Spain 
 to desert in France." 
 
 "My heart sank; I had seen the woman, and knew 
 her son for one of the most courageous and unprincipled 
 adventurers who hung about the Court and held their 
 swords for hire. When the noisy troop rode up to the 
 gates of Cartillon their leader paused, a head appeared 
 upon the battlements. 
 
 "Guise," cried Ortez, giving the watchword of that 
 day of slaughter. The drawbridge lowered, and open 
 swung the gates. 
 
 "Welcome to Cartillon, d'Artin," Ortez bowed. 
 "Here at last we find rest and refreshment. Let a feast 
 be spread in the great hall, ransack the place for good 
 cheer. We've done brave work this glorious day, my 
 lads, and a merry ending we'll have before the night is 
 gone." 
 
 Everywhere in the courtyard were evidences of bloody
 
 2l8 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 conflict. Singly, in groups and in hideous crimson- 
 splashed piles lay Catholics and Huguenots together, 
 peaceful enough in death. 
 
 "By my faith, and a gallant set of gentlemen we 
 have here," laughed Ortez. "What think you, brother 
 mine?" 
 
 And even as he spoke he leaned from his saddle to 
 strike down a half dying wretch who lifted his head 
 from among the slain. 
 
 "Perez," he called to his sergeant riding behind him, 
 "dispose of these bodies. Throw the heretic dogs into 
 the old well yonder. Give our martyred friends Christian 
 burial." 
 
 He sat his horse idly toying with his dagger, and 
 forced me to watch my servants, the wounded and the 
 dead, being cast into the yawning darkness of the well. 
 
 "God's blood! here is our sweet young Philip. 
 What, not yet dead ! Why, it matters not, cast him in." 
 This in answer to a questioning look from the more 
 merciful Perez. 
 
 The men at arms had extricated from a heap of slain 
 the limp body of my youngest brother, a boy of twenty, 
 his pallid face gaping open from a cut across the cheek. 
 He lifted his eyes languidly to mine. 
 
 "Oh brother, you are come. Some water, water," 
 he murmured. 
 
 "Throw him in, men," Ortez interrupted. 
 
 Perez yet hesitated. 
 
 "Shall we not first dispatch him, sire?" 
 
 "No, I would not harm my gentle brother; throw
 
 THE CASTLE OF CARTILLON 219 
 
 him in. Be not slow about it either, thou chicken- 
 hearted bullies; pitch him in." 
 
 The men started to obey this savage order. 
 
 "Hound of hell!" I screamed, tortured beyond en- 
 durance, and struggling at my bonds. 
 
 Ortez slapped me in the face with his gauntlet, then 
 laying his hand upon my shoulder said with assumed 
 gentleness : 
 
 "Calm yourself, my dear brother; think of your un- 
 bandaged wounds; they may bleed afresh." 
 
 Philip was conscious as the men bore him to the edge 
 of the well, but powerless to resist four stout fellows 
 who cast him headlong amongst the dead and dying to 
 mingle his groans and blood with theirs. Oh, that God 
 should permit to men such deeds, and grant that men 
 should witness them! When the last body had been 
 disposed of, Ortez led the way to the banquet hall, in- 
 viting all his rabble to join the feast. The banquet hall, 
 used as it was to scenes of turbulence, never perhaps 
 had looked upon such a throng as that. I occupied 
 the head of my own table, strapped helpless in my seat. 
 On either side were vacant chairs. Ortez sat at the 
 foot. Between, the soldiery ranged themselves as they 
 pleased. One of the troopers coming in late would 
 have taken his place beside me, but his Captain stopped 
 him : 
 
 "Not there, Gardier; we have other and fairer guests 
 for whom those seats are kept." 
 
 Almost as he spoke the chairs on either side of me
 
 220 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 were slipped away, and after awhile as silently returned 
 to their places. 
 
 Sacrament of passion ! In one of them was bound 
 the mutilated corpse of my queenly wife, her fingers 
 hacked off and her ears torn out for the gems which 
 had decked them. Upon my left sat little Celia. But 
 for one lurid stripe of crimson across her girlish breast 
 she might well have been asleep, so lightly death had 
 touched her. Behind them I saw a tall, gaunt woman, 
 wearing a man's helm and carrying a pike. She di- 
 rected the men. This was a woman's hellish work. 
 
 Ortez rose with studied politeness : 
 
 "Your wife and child, d'Artin; our charming family 
 reunion would be incomplete without them." And the 
 woman laughed aloud. 
 
 My brain burned ; something seemed to strain and 
 give way. I lost all sense of pain, all capacity to suffer. 
 How long this lasted I know not. When the revelry 
 was at its height, when the wine had dulled every 
 human instinct of these rough "Soldiers of the Church, ' ' 
 Ortez raised his voice above the tumult ; he knew his 
 men were in the humor for a diversion he was about to 
 propose. 
 
 "Now comrades," he said, "for the crowning joy of 
 this most blessed day, now for our last sacred duty to 
 Mother Church." 
 
 He came round the table and taking a cord from the 
 hands of one of his men he threw the noose over my 
 head. With feet bound together, hands free, I stood 
 amongst them, this throng of butchers, each with the
 
 THE CASTLE OF CARTILLON 221 
 
 white Cross of Christ in his cap, the white scarf of Guise 
 upon his arm, drunk and eager for blood. 
 
 "Henri Francois Placide d'Artin, what hast thou to 
 say why we shall not declare thy blood attainted, thy 
 name dishonored, thy estate forfeited, why we shall not 
 hang thee for a Huguenot dog, traitor to King and 
 church? Speak." 
 
 All the defiance of my race burned fearless in my eyes ; 
 I felt my face flush an instant at the shame of such a 
 death, but replied as steadily as might be: 
 
 "Not a word to you, thou infamous one, thou base- 
 born coward, murderer of the helpless; not to you!" 
 
 The cool, polite manner of Ortez fell from him like a 
 mask. He seized the cord with his own hand, jerking 
 me prone upon the floor and commenced to drag me 
 from the hall. A dozen willing hands lent aid. I 
 clutched instinctively at everything which came in my 
 way, being torn from each hold by the ruthless villains 
 at the rope. 
 
 Desperate, I grasped the leg of a trooper, but a sav- 
 age kick in the face wrenched him free, and down the 
 stair they started for the open court. At the end of the 
 cord came tumbling, rolling, bumping down the stone 
 steps this almost senseless heap which was yet a man. 
 
 Arrived beside the well, whose great overhanging 
 sweep offered a convenient scaffold, Ortez paused to 
 look at his victim. My breath came slow, I could 
 hardly hear their words. 
 
 "Think you his senses will return?"
 
 222 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 "Possibly, sire," replied the man to whom this was 
 addressed. 
 
 "Then we will wait; my sweet brother would weep to 
 miss so brave a spectacle as his own hanging." 
 
 He sat there upon the edge of the well, whence came 
 the groans of the dying, the hot, fresh odors of the 
 dead, and waited, fiendish in the patient ferocity of his 
 more than mortal hate. 
 
 After a little I opened my eyes and stared about me, 
 scarcely comprehending where I was or what had hap- 
 pened. Ortez called upon his men to raise me. Being 
 placed erect the cord was drawn just taut enough to sus- 
 tain me standing. Now the ghastly woman I had seen 
 in the ha]l pushed her way through the crowd. 
 
 "Her son," she hissed, and savagely struck me in 
 the mouth until blood followed the blow. The cord in- 
 stantly tightened and I felt myself swing across the well. 
 First only a dizziness and a parched mouth. Then the 
 tumultuous blood surged to my throat, beating, strug- 
 gling, gurgling like some pent-up mountain stream 
 against the rocks. I threw both hands up to grasp the 
 rope heard a laugh, not a human laugh, yet it sounded 
 so far, so very far away, away back upon the earth. 
 
 A gigantic merciful hand seemed to take my head 
 within its gripe and press out all the pain. 
 
 Fiery circles swam before my eyes ; great crimson 
 blotches floated about in restless clouds of flame ; then 
 dreams, dreams, long delicious dreams. And out of 
 endless years of rhythmic music, the laughter of low-
 
 THE CASTLE OF CART1LLON 223 
 
 voiced women, and many colored lights, came at length 
 oblivion. 
 
 Thus the tale ended. It was the same I had heard in 
 far away Louisiana, told again with all the grim earnest- 
 ness of desperate truth. 
 
 I stood now in the great courtyard again, beside the 
 ancient well, drinking eagerly every inspired syllable. 
 When the speaker had done, he shrank back into the 
 darkness, and was gone. 
 
 It was as though I witnessed in my own person the 
 wretched death of Henri d'Artin, and stood within his 
 castle's court when the ruthless deed was done. Verily 
 man knoweth not the rebellious vagaries of an unhinged 
 brain ; knoweth not what be but unmeaning phantasies, 
 or what be solemn revelations from the very lips of God. 
 
 In the deep gloom the ruined castle loomed darkly, a 
 ghastly monument of evil deeds. I looked about for 
 the madman but saw him not. The weirdness of the 
 place, the horror of its secret, crept into my blood. I 
 became afraid. Down the bleak road I picked my way, 
 glancing fearsomely over my shoulder. I fain would have 
 fled as had the lad. 
 
 I found my horse re-equipped. Still shuddering I 
 mounted, scarce daring to look backwards at the cursed 
 pile. Then, with the madman's story surging in my 
 brain, I dug savage spurs into my steed and galloped 
 desperately onward through the night.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 FROM THE PATH OF DUTY 
 
 IT was about ten of the clock when I reached Dieppe. 
 Soon thereafter I was well aboard le Dauphin, 
 Serigny himself meeting me at the vessel's side. 
 
 "Hullo, Placide," he cried. "All goeth well, and 
 the passing night gives promise to us of a brighter 
 day." 
 
 Later, in his own cabin, he told me of a brief meeting 
 he had with Louis. 
 
 "For the time we are safe. The King is restless 
 about the safety of the province, and he trusts Bienville 
 as a soldier. The Spanish intrigue keeps our enemies 
 so busy they have not time to disturb us. The King has 
 no man who can take Bienville's place. Well, it's all 
 happily over, and I am as delighted as a child to be at 
 sea again. We would sail at once, now that you are 
 come, were it not for de la Mora; he, with his wife and 
 another lady, are to bear us company. The Chevalier 
 is a thorough soldier, and I welcome him, but like not 
 the presence of the ladies We may have rough work 
 betimes." 
 
 I knew my face grew pale, and thanked the half-light 
 (224)
 
 FROM THE PATH OF DUTY 225 
 
 for concealment, or he must have noted. Who that 
 "other lady" was, possessed for me no interest, and I 
 never asked. 
 
 De la Mora. This was terrible, and so unforeseen. 
 Full well I knew I could not spend five long weeks in 
 daily contact with Agnes and give no betraying sign. I 
 must needs have time to think, and that right speedily. 
 
 "When do they come, sire?" 
 
 "Any moment; they left or should have done so- 
 rtie same time as yourself. His orders were the same." 
 
 Rapidly as a man could think, so thought I. 
 
 "How long will you wait for them?" 
 
 "Until dawn, no longer. Then we sail." 
 
 A glimmer of hope de la Mora might be delayed. 
 Without any clearly defined purpose I went on and 
 carefully gave Serigny every detail of information which 
 could be valuable touching the expected trouble in the 
 colonies. Of this my hands should, in any event, be 
 clean. I even handed him the King's new commission 
 directed to Bienville, whereof I was so proud to be the 
 bearer. Whilst ridding my mind of these matters, I 
 could not have said what course I meditated. A boat 
 grating against the vessel's side set me all a tremble, 
 but it was only a letter of instructions. Making some 
 poor excuse to Serigny for the moment, I entered the 
 yawl as it left the ship to go ashore. A well-known voice 
 hailed us ere we made the land. 
 
 "Ahoy there, the boat," and through the shadows I 
 made out the form of him I dreaded most to see. 
 15 BLACK WOLF
 
 226 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 "Boatman, can you put three of us aboard yonder 
 vessel?" 
 
 "Aye, sir, it is from her I have just come." 
 "Is thy craft a fit one to carry ladies?" 
 
 This dashed down the hope he had left his wife be- 
 hind. 
 
 "Aye, sir, it is a safe craft, but not a fine ladies' 
 barge. We can go with care and run into no danger. 
 The wind is low." 
 
 " 'Twill serve." 
 
 I jumped ashore and would have slipped by without 
 speaking had he not recognized me. 
 
 "By my soul, de Mouret, it is you; and we are to be 
 companions on the voyage. Bravo." 
 
 He approached me frankly, with outstretched hand and 
 hearty greeting. I would fain have avoided touching 
 his honest palm, but there was no way for it. 
 
 "I see you are surprised. Yes? I was suddenly 
 ordered to sail in le Dauphin, and report to your good 
 Governor, Bienville. A most sturdy soldier from all 
 report. Heaven send us a sharp campaign, I am weary 
 of these puny quarrels. We will have brave days in the 
 colonies." 
 
 This open-hearted way about him struck a new terror 
 to my heart ; I could face his sword but not his confi- 
 dence. His cheeks glowed with martial enthusiasm and 
 I almost caught again the hot lust of battle. 
 
 "And Agnes, with her little sister, is at the inn. 
 Yes," he continued, noting me step back a pace in pro- 
 test, "it is a rude life enough for tender women, but
 
 FROM THE PATH OF DUTY 22/ 
 
 they come of stock that fears no danger, and it's better 
 there than at the Court of Louis." 
 
 I hardly heard the man. To meet his wife day after 
 day, to associate on terms of cordial intimacy with this 
 honorable gentleman, to enjoy his confidence, my heart 
 filled the while with guilt too strong to conquer the 
 thing was torture not to be endured. 
 
 "Come with me to the inn; let us get the ladies and 
 their luggage aboard. Agnes will be glad to meet you ; 
 she says she has great curiosity to see what you are 
 like." 
 
 I excused myself most lamely upon the plea of some 
 duty to be performed. 
 
 "Ah well, on board then; she will have abundant 
 time, aye, abundant time." 
 
 From a dark place near the inn door, I watched 
 their departure. Poor weakling that I was, I could not 
 deny myself. The Chevalier, with Agnes and another 
 lady, took their way toward the waiting boat, a flicker- 
 ing lanthorn being borne in their front. His words, 
 "Agnes will be glad to meet with you; she has great 
 curiosity to see what you are like," recurred again and 
 again. 
 
 So she had deceived him, and he knew nothing of 
 our meetings? Ah, well do these women manage, and 
 we are ever dupes. And I, who all my life had de- 
 tested small deceptions, found myself heartily applaud- 
 ing this was it not for my sake. This secret was ours 
 mine and hers; the bond which we two held in com- 
 mon apart from all the world. A sweet reflection.
 
 228 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 The little weaknesses of women are very precious to 
 their object, and if the deluded one knows it not, why 
 where's the harm? Small comfort came to me, how- 
 ever, for all the while conscience, like a burning nettle 
 in the side, gave the lie to each excuse. 
 
 All that night I paced about, and up and down. At 
 length came gray dawn, but not decision. An early 
 fisherman disposed his net upon the beach. I watched 
 him long in silence, then abruptly asked, so fiercely that 
 he dropped his work: 
 
 "Old man, do you know of any other vessel sailing 
 soon for the American Colonies in the South?" 
 
 "Aye, sir, there's a brig fitting out at Boulogne- 
 sur-Mer for the Spanish seas, to sail in a week or there- 
 about. But, sir," the old fellow looked cautiously 
 about to assure himself that no one else could hear, 
 "they say un-Christian things of that brigand crew. 
 She bodes no good." 
 
 "A freebooter?" 
 
 "Aye, sir, or a privateer, which, they say, is the 
 milder term." 
 
 My resolution was formed. 
 
 "Await me here; I will pay your gains for the day if 
 you will but do me a slight service. ' ' 
 
 "Aye, aye, sir," he responded, touching his surf- 
 stained cap. 
 
 I returned briefly from the inn bearing a note for M. 
 de Serigny. Therein I explained that a most important 
 matter had transpired to detain me until another vessel
 
 FROM THE PATH OF DUTY 229 
 
 sailed, some few days at most. I would tell him of it 
 more at length when I joined him at Biloxi. 
 
 I gave it, with a broad gold piece, to the old fellow, 
 and directed that he give it to Serigny. There I re- 
 mained until I saw the man clamber up le Dauphin's 
 side, when I left at once, fearing further communication 
 from Serigny. 
 
 Entering Boulogne at daybreak, the undulating val- 
 ley of the Liane claimed not one appreciative glance. 
 The ancient city trembled in its slumber at my feet. Al- 
 ready it became restless with the promise of another day 
 which clad its gables in flame and burned the rough old 
 towers with the shining gold of God. A little beyond, 
 the waters glimmered in the sun's first rays, and writh- 
 ing seaward tossed themselves in anger against the dim 
 white cliffs of our hereditary foes. 
 
 As a picture laid away in memory this all comes back 
 to me pure and fresh, but on that morning I gave it no 
 heed. From the heights I passed along through quiet 
 streets into the lower town, thence to the beach, where 
 I was soon inquiring among the sailors for the pri- 
 vateer. These women looked askance at me, and re- 
 garded my unfamiliar uniform with suspicion, but after 
 great difficulty one of their number was induced to carry 
 me alongside an ominous looking craft lying in the har- 
 bor a black-hulled brig of probably six hundred and 
 fifty tons burden. Of the sentinel on deck I asked: 
 
 "Your captain " 
 
 "Is here," and at the word a dark, wiry man, who
 
 23O THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 had evidently been watching my approach, appeared at 
 the companion way. 
 
 "A word with you, sir, if you are the captain of this 
 craft. I am told you are refitting for a trip to west 
 Florida. What your errand is I care not; I want to go 
 with you." 
 
 "We do not take passengers," he answered positively. 
 
 "Then take me as a marine, a seaman, what you will. 
 I am a soldier, familiar with the handspike as with the 
 sword, though knowing little of winds or currents." 
 
 Captain Levasseur eyed me closely, asked many ques- 
 tions concerning my life and service, to which I replied, 
 truthfully in part. He seemed satisfied. 
 
 "Well, we do need a few more stout fellows who can 
 handle a cutlass; when could you come aboard?" 
 
 "At once; I have no baggage but the weapons at my 
 side." 
 
 "Good. Your name?" 
 
 "Gaspard Cambronne," I answered at random. 
 
 The freebooter laughed. 
 
 "We care nothing for your name so you will fight. 
 We sail the day after to-morrow one week." And sur- 
 veying my well knit frame, for I was a sturdy youth, 
 "If you know any more stout young fellows like your- 
 self we can give them a berth apiece." 
 
 So I scrambled aboard without more ado, and became 
 at once a member of the "Seamew's" crew. I hardly 
 knew at first why I gave a false name. But the charac- 
 ter of the vessel was doubtful, its destination uncertain, 
 and knowing not what mission she was on I shirked to
 
 FROM THE PATH OF DUTY 23 1 
 
 give my real name and station. The chance was des- 
 perate, yet not one whit more desperate than I. 
 
 The Seamew sailed more than three weeks behind 
 le Dauphin, armed with letters of marque from the King 
 commissioning her to prey upon Spanish commerce in 
 southern seas, and especially to take part in any expe- 
 dition against Havana or Pensacola. 
 
 Our voyage wore on drearily enough to me, almost 
 without incident. After four weeks of sky and sea 
 we rounded the southernmost cape of Florida and turned 
 into the Mexican Gulf. I grew more and more impa- 
 tient and full of dread. Le Dauphin had twenty-three 
 days the start of our faster vessel, and Biloxi was prob- 
 ably at that moment in a fever of warlike preparation. 
 It was just possible, too, that the Spaniards had not yet 
 been informed of the war, and nothing had been so far 
 done by them. 
 
 Cruising by Pensacola harbor, just outside the Isle de 
 Santa Rosa, a pine-grown stretch of narrow sand which 
 for twenty-five leagues protects that coast, Levasseur 
 called me to him. 
 
 "Do you know, my lad, what vessels those are at 
 anchor in the harbor?" 
 
 Two of them I recognized as I would my own tent, 
 two French men-of-war which Bienville had long been 
 expecting from France. The rest were Spaniards, full- 
 rigged, four ships, and six gunboats. Levasseur put 
 the Seamew boldly about and entered the harbor. He 
 signaled the Frenchmen, lowered a boat, and sent his 
 lieutenant aboard the flagship with credentials and a
 
 232 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 letter signifying his readiness to engage in any enter- 
 prise. 
 
 From Admiral Champmeslin, in command of the 
 squadron, he learned that Bienville and Serigny, com- 
 bined with the Choctaws, had invested Pensacola by 
 land, and on the morrow a simultaneous attack by land 
 and sea would be made. The Spanish forces consisted 
 of four ships, six gunboats, a strong fort on Santa Rosa 
 Island, and the works at Pensacola, the strength of 
 whose garrison was unknown. 
 
 That night on board the Seamew was spent in busy 
 preparation and in rest. I alone was unemployed, my 
 awkwardness with ropes and spars forbade it. I sat 
 moodily upon a gun at the port, and fixing my eyes on 
 shore vainly endeavored to make out what the French and 
 Choctaws were doing there. To the left were the mea- 
 ger camp fires of the Indians ; further up the hills a 
 more generous blazing line marked the French position. 
 
 Gradually a low wavering sound separated itself from 
 the other noises of the night, coming faint but clear upon 
 the light land breeze, the first quivering notes of a 
 Choctaw war chant. How familiar it was. Was I 
 mistaken? I listened more intently. No. It was in 
 very truth the voice of Tuskahoma, my old friend on 
 many marches. 
 
 I cared nothing for the Seamew or her crew, and de- 
 termined to seek my old friends to fight out the day 
 with them. 
 
 What little thought I gave it justified the deed. My 
 position as an officer of the King would palliate desert- 
 ing the ship which had brought me over.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE FALL OF PENSACOLA 
 
 {SLIPPED down the anchor chain without noise 
 into the throbbing sea, and swam ashore to a point 
 some three or four cable lengths away. Guided by the 
 single voice which still sang of war, of glory and of 
 death, I pushed easily into the ring of hideously painted 
 savages who surrounded the singer. To unaccustomed 
 eyes this would have been a fearful sight. 
 
 Two hundred warriors sat motionless as bronze idols 
 about their chief; two hundred naked bodies glinted 
 back the pine knot's fitful glow. In the center of this 
 threatening circle moved Tuskahoma, two great crimson 
 blotches upon his cheeks, treading that weird suggestive 
 measure the Indians knew so well. Round and round 
 a little pine-tree, shorn of its branches and striped with 
 red, he crept, danced and sang. His words came 
 wild and irregular, a sort of rhythmic medley, now soft 
 and low as the murmur of the summer ocean, now 
 thrilling every ear by then- sudden ferocity and fearful 
 energy. Now it was the gentle lullaby, the mother's 
 crooning, the laughter of a child; again, the bursting 
 (233)
 
 234 TH E BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 of the tempest, the lightning's flash, the thunder's rum- 
 bling roar. 
 
 His arms raised to heaven like some gaunt priest of 
 butchery, he invoked the mighty Manitou of his tribe, 
 then dropping prone upon the ground he crawled, a sin- 
 uous serpent, among the trees. 
 
 For awhile his listeners wandered away upon their 
 chieftain's words to the waiting ones at home, to hunt- 
 ing grounds of peace and plenty ; melodious as a maid- 
 en's sigh that song breathed of love and lover's hopes, 
 it wailed for departed friends, extolled their virtues, and 
 called down heaven's curses upon the coward of to- 
 morrow's fight. Then the fierce gleam of shining steel, 
 one wild war-whoop and all again was still. His words 
 faded away in the echoless night till a holy hush brooded 
 o'er beach and forest. 
 
 Then the solitary dancer wound about the ring as the 
 crouching panther steals upon her prey, while peal after 
 peal came the frightful cries of barbaric conflict, the 
 shrieks of the wounded a wild, victorious shout blend- 
 ed with a hopeless dying scream. 
 
 With a master's touch he played upon their vibrant 
 feelings ; not a key of human emotion he left unsounded 
 fame, pride, hate, love and death his song expressed 
 them all. 
 
 Thoroughly frenzied, warrior after warrior now began 
 to join him in the ring ; voice after voice caught up the 
 dread refrain which terrorized the trained soldiery of 
 Europe and filled their imaginations with the nameless 
 horrors of unrelenting war.
 
 THE FALL OF PENSACOLA 235 
 
 High above the din Tuskahoma lifted now his fero- 
 cious battle cry ; advancing upon the blazed sapling he 
 sank his tomahawk deep into the soft white wood, then 
 moved swiftly out of the circle to. his own fire. This 
 was the act by which he announced his assumption of 
 supreme authority. 
 
 Frantic with excitement the unleashed throng rushed 
 upon this fancied enemy, and soon but the mangled 
 fragments and Lhe roots marked where it had stood. 
 
 And the forest slumbered and the sentry paced his 
 lonely path. 
 
 It is not my purpose to speak in detail of those mat- 
 ters of history which have been so much better described 
 by men of learning. I would merely mention in pass- 
 ing such smaller affairs as relate directly to my own nar- 
 rative. 
 
 Short and sharp was the conflict which, under God, 
 gave our arms the victory at Pensacola. Swarming 
 over the palisades or boldly tearing them down, the 
 Choctaws, led by Tuskahoma, swept the Spaniards from 
 their works. It so happened that Tuskahoma and I 
 mounted the fortifications together. As I essayed to 
 drop down upon the inside my sword belt caught upon 
 the top of a picket, leaving me dangling in mid air, an 
 easy prey to those below had they only noticed my 
 plight. Tuskahoma paused to sever the belt with his 
 knife, and by this accident I was first within the Span- 
 ish works, sword and pistol in hand. Soon a hundred 
 were by my side. 
 
 The Spanish troops, inured to civilized warfare, could
 
 236 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 not stand before these yelling demons, springing here 
 and there elusive as phantoms, wielding torch and tom- 
 ahawk with deadly effect. 
 
 In the very forefront, shoulder to shoulder, with a 
 laugh and a parry, a lunge and a jest, fought the Chev- 
 alier de la Mora. Merry as a lad at play, resolute and 
 quick, I could but stop betimes to wonder at the fellow. 
 Gallant, gay and debonnair, he sang a rippling little 
 air from soft Provence, and whirled his blade with such 
 dainty skill that even the stoical Indians gazed in awe 
 upon the laughing cavalier. Fighting through a bye- 
 street, he met, steel to steel, a Spanish gentleman, 
 within the sweep of whose sword lay half a dozen of our 
 good fellows. 
 
 De la Mora glanced at this silent tribute to the Span- 
 iard's prowess; his face lighted up with a soldier's joy. 
 He planted one foot staunchly across a prostrate 
 corpse, and right jauntily rang out the hissing music of 
 their steel. Instinctively I paused to watch, and as in- 
 stinctively understood that though pressed to his best, 
 de la Mora desired to be left alone. Verily it was a gen- 
 tleman's fight, and no odds, for love and glory's sake, 
 though the Spaniard might have had a whit the better. 
 As I fought on, I heard the swift hurtle of a flying knife, 
 and saw the Spaniard drop his sword. De la Mora 
 glanced round with indignant eyes to the Choctaw who 
 had made the cast, now looking for approval from this 
 gentleman who sang like a woman and fought like a 
 fiend. The Chevalier was like to have wreaked sum- 
 mary vengeance for striking so foul a blow. Through
 
 THE FALL OF PENSACOLA 237 
 
 the press I could see him go up to his late adversary, 
 bare-headed and courteous, to extricate him from the 
 motley, bleeding group wherein he had fallen. Throw- 
 ing his powerful shoulder against a door, he broke it 
 down, and tenderly carried the wounded gentleman 
 within. I could then see him quietly standing guard at 
 the door, waiting for the turmoil to cease, for it was 
 then quite evident that the day was ours. 
 
 Already the Choctaws were busy tearing the reeking 
 scalps from the living and the dead. De la Mora's face 
 grew deathly pale at the sight ; his cheeks did play the 
 woman, and one might deem him my lady's dapper 
 page, catching his maiden whiff of blood. This gener- 
 ous act kept him from being in at the close of the fray, 
 and robbed him of the greater meed of glory which he 
 might have thereby won. Twice that day, as he struck 
 down a pike aimed at my breast, did he make me to feel 
 in my heart like a lying thief I, who was weak enough 
 to imagine his dishonor. 
 
 Just at the last there was a trifling incident occurred 
 which my lads insisted was greatly to my credit. News 
 of this was carried straight to the Governor, and much 
 was made thereof. 
 
 Bienville, with his Frenchmen, battered down the 
 gates, and before many minutes the proud Castilian 
 pennon lowered to the milk-white flag of France. On 
 sea and land were we alike successful. 
 
 An hour after Pensacola fell, the Spanish ships struck 
 their colors to Champmeslin. Our greatest loss was the
 
 238 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 total destruction of the Seamew, blown up by a red-hot 
 shot, which fell in her powder magazine. 
 
 At the surrender I caught my old commander's eye. 
 He motioned me to draw nearer. I obeyed most re- 
 luctantly, for I expected a stern rebuke from the rugged 
 soldier who never forgave the slightest deviation from his 
 orders. Instead, Bienville overwhelmed me with praise. 
 He grasped my hand, and spoke loud enough for all 
 the troops to hear : 
 
 "Before our assembled armies I am proud to acknowl- 
 edge your share in France's triumph this day ; proud 
 and grateful for your fidelity at Versailles and Paris. 
 Your example of loyalty and courage is one worthy to 
 be emulated by all the sons of France. The King shall 
 have your name for further recognition." 
 
 This was a great deal for Bienville to say, especially 
 at such a time. My own lips were dumb. 
 
 "Take your proper place, sir." 
 
 And mechanically I walked to the head of my cheer- 
 ing guards. I was amazed. And Serigny? Had he 
 made up his mind to overlook my defection? Had the 
 Governor forgiven my failure to return in le Dauphin? 
 Surely not. The noble voice of Bienville broke into my 
 puzzled thought: 
 
 "Captain de Mouret, you will receive the surrender 
 of Don Alphonso, our knightly and courteous foe." 
 
 It thrilled me with pride that I should receive so fa- 
 mous a sword, for knightlier foeman than Alphonso 
 never trod a deck nor tossed his gauntlet in the lists. I 
 stepped forward to the Spanish lines where their van-
 
 THE FALL OF PENSACOLA 239 
 
 quished admiral tendered me the insignia of his com- 
 mand, when on a sudden thought I put back the prof- 
 fered sword, assuring him so noble a soldier ought never 
 to stand disarmed, and no hand but his should touch 
 that valiant blade. My delighted lads cheered again 
 like mad, and Bienville himself seemed much pleased at 
 my courtesy. 
 
 "Bravo! Placide," he exclaimed, clapping his hands, 
 his rugged face aglow with martial joy. His counte- 
 nance changed, however, when his eye fell upon the 
 cringing figure of Matamora, the commandant of per- 
 fidious memory. 
 
 "You, too, Matamora? What, not yet killed ! Hast 
 saved thy precious skin again? More's the pity. And 
 do you think to merit the respect accorded manhood 
 and good faith? By the name of honor, no. Here 
 boy," and he beckoned to the negro slave who stood at 
 his elbow, "do you take yon dishonored weapon and 
 break it before the troops." 
 
 And Matamora, full glad to escape with life and limb, 
 willingly yielded up his sword to the black who snapped 
 it under his foot, obedient to Bienville's nod, then cast 
 the tainted pieces from him. 
 
 Upon the long march to Biloxi, de la Mora was the 
 life of the command, and drew to our camp fire every 
 straggler who could make a fair excuse to come. He 
 knew good songs, and he sang them well; he knew 
 good cheer, and he kept us all in radiant spirits. All, 
 save myself. I was bitterly dejected.
 
 240 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 "Cheer up, lad," he'd say, "What ails you? One 
 would think you'd met reverse, instead of winning glory 
 and promotion. It was a brave day, and bravely you 
 did bear yourself. Would that Jerome could see." 
 
 But the consciousness of dishonor had torn elation 
 from my soul, though, God knows, it had before been 
 stainless in thought or deed. 
 
 "We'll have many sweet and tranquil hours at Biloxi 
 when days of peace are come. My cottage can be your 
 home after the barracks no longer claim your care. 
 Agnes is the sweetest of wives; her little sister, too, a 
 child, but fair, and clever too, beyond her years." 
 
 Verily I cared nothing for a baby sister. But Agnes? 
 
 He repeated his invitation to their cottage many 
 times, and mentally I prayed, "O God, lead not Thy 
 children into temptation." 
 
 When we had settled down again at Biloxi, for days 
 I remained to myself in the barracks, and saw no one, 
 making pretense of being busy amongst my men. 
 
 De la Mora rallied me upon my ungallant conduct, in 
 denying to the ladies the sight of so famous a soldier. 
 
 I had now firmly determined to make it necessary to 
 be away from the post for a season, either in campaign 
 with the Choctaws against the Natchez, or by taking 
 part in the coming siege of Havana. Any pretext to 
 get away. Anything but the truth.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE CONTENTS OF THE BOX 
 
 ONE day very soon thereafter my servant presented 
 me a box, which he said had been brought there 
 by an Indian from Colonel d'Ortez, with the request 
 that it be delivered into my own hand. And further, 
 to beg I would make him a visit as soon as my duties 
 would permit. 
 
 The evening being far advanced I could not go that 
 night, so contented myself with the promise I would cross 
 the bay on the morrow. 
 
 Later, my company being my own, I gave attention 
 to the box, such a metal receptacle as was commonly 
 used for articles of value. It responded easily to the 
 key, and opened without difficulty. 
 
 The reasons for d'Ortez's fear and retirement lay 
 bare before me, if I would but search them out. Within 
 the box, bound together by deerskin thongs, were 
 many writings, some on parchment, some paper, of dif- 
 ferent dates and degrees of preservation. Some were 
 well worn from age and handling, others more recent, 
 were in better condition. Some there were which ap- 
 peared quite new and fresh ; these must have been the 
 latest to find a resting place in his keeping, 
 16 BLACK WOLF (241)
 
 242 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 All were arranged in due and systematic order; of 
 whatever age, each bore a careful superscription, giving 
 in brief the contents of the paper written by his own 
 exact hand. Beside this, each document was num- 
 bered and placed in sequence. Verily, it was most me- 
 thodically done, so any child could read and understand. 
 
 It was with much misgiving I approached the task of 
 making myself familiar with my old friend's secret. 
 Had he committed some youthful crime which weighed 
 heavily upon his trembling age, and had driven him to 
 these savage shores, where, shut out from all companion- 
 ship with his kind, he did a lonely penance? If so, I 
 preferred to remain in ignorance, for his was a friend- 
 ship so dear, so pure, I desired not to taint it with the 
 odor of guilt. 
 
 He had, however, made his request in such urgent 
 terms, even pathetic, I could not disregard it, and 
 putting aside the reluctance I felt, I took up the paper 
 which lay on top, directed to myself, and began its 
 perusal. It was as follows: 
 
 My dear Placide: 
 
 The great feebleness of my worn-out frame warns me again 
 that time for me is almost past. It may be, when you recross the 
 seas, I shall have gone to final judgment. * * * remember my 
 request, and carry on to the end that work which generations of 
 cowards have left undone. * * * All is here contained in these 
 papers, except some recent news I have of the Pasquiers from the 
 northern colonies. 
 
 Possibly if you went to Quebec and sought out the Cure of St. 
 Martin's (who wrote this last letter, No. 32) you may right it all, 
 and give to my soul its eternal peace. * * * With the strong
 
 THE CONTENTS OF THE BOX 243 
 
 affection which my bodily infirmities have in no wise diminished, 
 I am, 
 
 Your old friend. 
 
 RAOUL ARMAND XAVIER D'ORTEZ. 
 
 of Cartillon, Normandy. 
 
 Having carefully read this letter, I then proceeded to 
 peruse the various documents in the order he had ar- 
 ranged them. 
 
 The first, written by the hand of the Benedictine, 
 Laurent of Lorraine, Abbot of Vaux, told of the ad- 
 mission to the monastery of a child, son of Henri 
 d'Artin, to whom the good monks gave the name Bar- 
 tholomew Pasquier. This child, though designed for 
 orders, left the monastery, cast his fortunes with the 
 King of Navarre, and became a great officer in the 
 household of King Henri the Fourth. 
 
 Other documents gave an account of the posterity 
 of this child down to one Francois Rene Alois de Pas- 
 quier, who fled to America in 1674 to escape the ven- 
 geance of a certain great lord whose son he slew in a 
 duel. This was he who was reputed to have been killed 
 in battle, and to have left no issue. And this was he 
 whom I afterward found to be my own good father. 
 
 There was also contained an account of the later life 
 of Pedro d'Ortez, who, profiting not by his blood-gotten 
 gains, threw himself, while in delirium, into the same 
 old well whereon he had hanged his brother, Henri 
 d'Artin. 
 
 Some further notes by the good abbot told of how 
 Raoul, the second son of Pedro, slew his own brother,
 
 244 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 before their father's eyes, in order that he, Raoul, might 
 be Count of Cartillon. And this same Raoul, some 
 years later, did have the locket made and forced his own 
 son to swear that he would restore the real sons of 
 d'Artin, the true children of the Black Wolf's Breed, to 
 their own again. All of these accounts are of surpass- 
 ing interest, old and quaint, to a perusal of which I 
 recommend my children.* 
 
 For the first time, in reading these manuscripts, did 
 I begin clearly to associate the name d'Ortez with the 
 name used by the madman in his story at the old Nor- 
 man ruin. With this new light, link by link did the 
 whole knotted chain untangle. Curiously enough, the 
 tale I had heard at the ruined castle tallied in the main 
 with the monkish documents here preserved. Indeed 
 it supplied me with knowledge of much which otherwise 
 I would not have comprehended so completely. The 
 horrible reality of that weird recital was still fresh and 
 distinct before me, undimmcd by time and unforgotten 
 through all my troubles. 
 
 I had sought refuge many times from brooding over 
 my own affairs by turning to this for interest and occu- 
 pation. Every further detail was supplied by a number 
 of quaint documents, which Colonel d'Ortez had di- 
 gested into this : 
 
 *These documents have been included in an appendix to this volume.
 
 THE CONTENTS OF THE BOX 
 
 245 
 
 TABLE SHOWING THE MALE DESCENDANTS OF 
 
 HENRI d'ARTIN ANI 
 
 Henri Francois Placide d'Artin, died 
 Aug. 26, 1572. 
 
 Bartholemew Pasquier (son of above), 
 died 1609. 
 
 Bartholemew PlacidePasquier") 
 killed in wars of the Fronde. I Sons of 
 
 Henri Louis John (brother to f above, 
 above), died 1654. 
 
 Francois Rene Xavier de Pasquier 
 (ennobled), killed 1650. 
 
 Francois Rene Alois de Pasquier, fled 
 to America. Supposed to have been 
 killed about 1681. No known de- 
 scendants. Well known to the Cure 
 of St. Martin's, Quebec. 
 
 OF PEDRO ORTEZ. 
 
 Pedro d'Ortez, suicided 1604. 
 
 ou 
 
 Raoul, died 1618. } above ' 
 
 Charles Francis Peter (son of Raoul), 
 
 died without issue. 
 Pedro d'Ortez (brother to above), died 
 
 1663. 
 
 Henry (son of above), killed in battle. 
 Alphonze, killed in battle. 
 Felix, died in infancy. 
 Raoul Armand Xavier d'Ortez, 
 
 born 1641 (myself). Died 
 
 - . No children. 
 She who was born ray daughter I dis- 
 
 owned, and she died without issue. 
 
 Sons of 
 above. 
 
 It appeared that the only thing to be done was to 
 visit the good Cure of St. Martin's, and, enlisting him 
 in the search, find whatever descendants might have 
 been left by this Francois Rene Alois de Pasquier. The 
 task need not be a difficult one, as many old people 
 should still be living who might have known of the man.* 
 
 I now bethought me of this enterprise as a fair excuse 
 whereby I could leave Biloxi for a space. I would, 
 therefore, call upon my old friend, and having obtained 
 leave, matters now being safe with the colony, make the 
 journey to Quebec. 
 
 But, alas for the weakness of fallen humanity; my last 
 act before putting myself out of temptation's way was 
 to run full tilt into it. 
 
 While this came so near to causing my dishonorable 
 death, yet it was, under Divine Providence, the direct 
 means of spreading before me a long life of happiness 
 
 *A very slight investigation showed that this last named Francois Rene 
 Alois de Pasquier was none other than my own good father, who assumed the 
 name de Mouret to avoid the consequences of a fatal duel in France. This I 
 learned from the pious Cure of St. Martin's, who knew him well.
 
 246 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 and honor. After a hard battle with my weaker self I 
 lost the fight. 
 
 Just as on the day I departed from Versailles, I deter- 
 mined, cost what it would, to see Agnes once again. So 
 I wrote her a note. Such a blunt and clumsy billet as 
 only a love-sick soldier or a country clown could have 
 written. It craved pardon for the heat and the haste 
 displayed by me when we parted at Sceaux ; it implored 
 one last interview before I left the colonies forever. I 
 had not the art to conceal or veil my meaning, but told 
 it out and plainly. Such a note as an idiotic boy might 
 pen, or a simpering school lass be set fluttering to re- 
 ceive. 
 
 I bade my man deliver this to Madame de la Mora 
 on the morrow, charging him minutely and repeatedly 
 to see it safe in her own hands. So careful was I, I did 
 not doubt that even so stupid a lout as Jacques under- 
 stood me perfectly. 
 
 His further instructions were to meet me at the Bay 
 when I should return in the evening from my visit to 
 Colonel d'Ortez, and there beside its rippling waters 
 or so I had arranged I was to receive her answer. 
 
 It had now turned late of the night, and I sought re- 
 pose. Sleep evaded my bed. What with my own rest- 
 less desires, my chiding sense of ill-doing, and the 
 d'Ortez story I had read, I tossed and tumbled through 
 the remaining hours of darkness. Tumbled and tossed, 
 whilst the sins and sufferings of men long dead passed 
 and repassed with their spectral admonitions. 
 
 Early on the morrow, while the day was yet cool, I
 
 THE CONTENTS OF THE BOX 247 
 
 crossed the Bay, and climbed the slope of sand before 
 the lonely house. It looked more deserted and deso- 
 late than I had ever seen it. The stillness of solitary 
 death clung as a pall about the place. Pachaco, the 
 Indian servant, sat beside the gate, as motionless as the 
 post against which he leaned. 
 
 "How is the master, Pachaco?" I inquired, passing 
 in. 
 
 "Him die yesterday," came the stolid reply. 
 
 "What? Dead! When?" 
 
 "The shadows were at the longest," he answered, in- 
 dicating by a gesture the western horizon. 
 
 I hurried into the master's room. In the same 
 position he had occupied, when, months ago, he had 
 beckoned me to remain, he sat there, dead in his 
 chair. His clothing hung about him in that sharply 
 angular fashion in which garments cling to a corpse. 
 Long, thin locks were matted above his brow, 
 awesomely disarranged. But the pose of his head, 
 drooped a little forward, suggested a melancholy reverie, 
 nothing more. 
 
 The golden locket, which he had shown me that well- 
 remembered night, rested within his shrunken palm. I. 
 noted that the side was open which revealed the blazing 
 bar of red. As if absorbed in that same unpleasant 
 thought, there sat the master, dead; dead, and I alone 
 knew his story. How vividly the old man's sorrow 
 came back; how it oppressed me. 
 
 I bent down in tender sympathy to look again upon 
 his wasted features, and kneeling, gazed into his wide-
 
 248 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 open eyes. The calm of promised peace upon his 
 brow was distorted by the unsatisfied expression of one 
 who has left his work undone. 
 
 So are the sins of the fathers visited upon their chil- 
 dren, for I was no longer in doubt but that the mur- 
 derer, Pedro Ortez, was the sinning ancestor of my old- 
 time friend. Even in his presence my thoughts flew to 
 Agnes; had she not spoken of her grandsire as being 
 such a man? The stiffening body at my side was speed- 
 ily forgotten in the music of this meditation. 
 
 I gained my feet again and looked down upon him, 
 fascinated by the changeless features of the dead. It 
 was probably natural that standing there I should re- 
 volve the whole matter over and over again, from the 
 first I knew of it until the last. A young man's plans, 
 though, work ever with the living ; the dead he places 
 in their tomb, covers them with earth, bids them "God- 
 speed," and banishes the recollection. I was already 
 busy with my contemplated search for the last d'Artin, 
 and stood there leaning against the oaken table ponder- 
 ing over the question, "Where is the last d'Artin?" 
 
 My mind wandered, returning with a dogged persist- 
 ence to that one thought, "Where is the last d'Artin?" 
 "Where could / find him?" My restless eyes roamed 
 round the cheerless room, coming always back to rest 
 upon a long dust-covered mirror set in the wall across 
 the way. 
 
 As wind-driven clouds gather and group themselves 
 in fantastic shapes, so, deep in that mirror's shadowy
 
 ' That long rigid finger pointed directly at me from out the dusty plass." p 250.
 
 THE CONTENTS OF THE BOX 249 
 
 depths, a vague figure gradually took form and charac- 
 ter myself. 
 
 With the vacant glance of a man whose mind is in- 
 tensely preoccupied, I studied minutely the reflection, 
 my own bearing, my dress, my weapons. I even noted 
 a button off my coat, and tried dimly to remember where 
 I had lost it, until great God this chamber of death 
 and revelation had turned my brain. 
 
 What face was that I saw? My own, assuredly, but 
 so like another. 
 
 Aghast, powerless to move or cry out, I stared help- 
 lessly into the glass. Every other sensation vanished 
 now before this new-born terror which held my soul en- 
 slaved. I closed my eyes, I dared not look. 
 
 My body seemed immovable with horror, but a trem- 
 bling hand arose and pointed at the mirror. Scant need 
 there was to call attention to that dim, terrible presence; 
 my whole soul shrank from the ghostly face reflected in 
 the glass. For there, there was the same pallid coun- 
 tenance, death-distorted and drawn, which I had con- 
 jured up in many a frightened dream as that of the 
 murdered Count there was Henri d'Artin. 
 
 How long I stood transfixed, pointing into the mirror, 
 I know not. As men think of trifles even in times of 
 deadly fear, so did my lips frame over and over again 
 the last question I had in mind before all sense forsook 
 me, "Where is the last d'Artin? Where is the last 
 d'Artin? Where?" 
 
 And in answer to my question, that long, rigid finger
 
 250 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 pointed directly at me from out the dusty glass. It was 
 as if the hand of the dead had told me who I was. 
 
 It had been no blind chance, then, which led me to 
 the Paris house of the "Black Wolf's Head;" the girl's 
 ring with the same device, and the grewsome narrative 
 beneath the shadow of the Wolf at the Norman ruin 
 nothing less than fate had brought these lights to me. 
 
 Verily some more logical power than unreasoning ac- 
 cident must direct the steps of men. A God of justice 
 perhaps had placed these tokens in my path. And 
 
 soldiers call this "Fortune." 
 
 ****** 
 
 I dispatched Pachaco tp Biloxi with the news of 
 death, and long before the afternoon our few simple ar- 
 rangements for his funeral had been made. 
 
 "Bury me here, Placide, beneath this great oak," he 
 had said to me one day. "The Infinite Mercy will con- 
 secrate the grave of penitence, wherever it may be." 
 
 He had his wish,
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 A NOTE WHICH WENT ASTRAY. 
 
 MEANWHILE Jacques had undertaken to manage 
 my little affair at Biloxi with tact and discretion. 
 And this is how the fellow did it : 
 
 It seems that Jacques thought no harm of the note, 
 and when he took it first to the house my lady was out. 
 The honest fellow, doing his best to carry out my in- 
 structions, refused to leave it. When he returned, my. 
 lady worked, bent down amongst her flowers, in the little 
 garden beside their cottage. The Chevalier stood some 
 distance off, busied someway, Jacques knew not how, 
 but with his face turned away from my messenger as he 
 came up. Jacques handed the note to my lady through 
 the fence, and she took it gently by the corner, fearing 
 to soil it. She held it up to look at the name written 
 upon it, and seeing it was her own, looked again more 
 curiously at the writing. She did not know the hand. 
 Then she gaily called to the Chevalier : 
 
 "Oh, Charles, come here; see what I have; it is a 
 missive to your wife, and from some gay gallant, too. 
 I do not know the writing. Do you come here and read 
 it to me. My hands are so ' ' She held up two small 
 white hands dabbled in the dirt.
 
 252 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 "Perhaps some invitation to a court ball. We'll go, 
 eh, Agnes?" 
 
 He came like the fine, strong gentleman he was, 
 across the garden, taking the note from her and tearing 
 it open. He began straightway to read, my lady on 
 tip-toe behind him reading over his shoulder, and hold^ 
 ing her contaminated hands away from his coat. His 
 face grew puzzled at the first, then as he seemed to 
 finish, he stood a pace apart from my lady and read 
 again. There was murder in his face yet so white and 
 quiet. 
 
 He threw down the note and ground it into the soft 
 earth beneath his heel. Then he caught my lady firmly 
 by both her shoulders and held her fast, at full arm's 
 length, gazing steadily into her face. 
 
 "God in heaven," as Jacques said to me; "Master, 
 what eyes has that Chevalier de la Mora ! No man could 
 lie to him with those eyes reading what a fellow thought. ' ' 
 Jacques could not make himself to leave ; he stood rigid 
 and watched. 
 
 "Well, Madame?" 
 
 "She tried to laugh, but her husband's face forbade 
 that this could be a spark of lover's play. 
 
 "Well, Madame?" 
 
 "Why, Charles, what is the matter with you, you 
 behave so strangely?" 
 
 The Chevalier had grown an older man, his face stern 
 and resolute, eyes a-glitter, and mouth drawn in tense, 
 determined lines. A most dangerous man. 
 
 "Why, Charles, what is the matter?"
 
 A NOTE WHICH WENT ASTRAY 253 
 
 "When did you meet him at Sceatix? What did you 
 do?" 
 
 "Meet who?" 
 
 "Don't lie to me, woman, I am in no mood for sub- 
 terfuge." 
 
 She besought him with one frightened look, one step 
 forward to him as if for protection, which he repelled ; 
 then she looked as though she might weep. 
 
 "Neither do you weep. Tell me how many notes 
 like this have you received?" 
 
 "Like what? I could not read it, you held it so 
 high," she sobbed. 
 
 The Chevalier stooped down, picked up the crumpled 
 paper from the earth, and smoothed it out He then 
 handed it to her, and regarded her face intently as she 
 read it. 
 
 "Read this, Madame, and see how careless you have 
 been." 
 
 And my lady read the note ; she, too, read it again, the 
 first reading not sufficing her to understand. Then she 
 looked at her husband with great wide-open eyes ; she 
 was now calm, and as quiet as he. 
 
 "Truly, Charles, I know nothing of this." 
 
 " It was always said, Madame, at Sceaux, you could 
 take the stage and play the parts of distressed and vir- 
 tuous damosels," he answered her, coldly curling his lip. 
 
 "Tell me, Madame, as you value your soul, what is 
 this Captain de Mouret to you?" 
 
 "As I value my soul," my lady answered him direct 
 and steadily, looking straight into his eye, her own
 
 254 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 hands folded across her heaving breast. "As I value 
 my soul, Charles, I know nothing of him." 
 
 "What does he mean when he says here 'I was hasty 
 and too impulsive when we parted in the chapel at 
 Sceaux' ? " 
 
 "Upon my honor, Charles, I do not know. I never 
 saw the man in all my life to know him." 
 
 "Upon your honor" the Chevalier repeated. 
 
 And my lady's cheek flushed fire. But her form 
 straightened up, and her eyes met his unflinching, with- 
 out guilt or fear. The Chevalier turned and caught 
 sight of Jacques, for the lout, according to his story, 
 had grown to the spot as firm as one of the oaks. 
 
 "Here, you fellow, come here, come here!" 
 
 And Jacques dared not disobey him. 
 
 "Here, fellow, how many notes like this have you 
 brought to my wife?" 
 
 "Only that one, my lord." Jacques started in by tell- 
 ing the truth, and he followed it up religiously. Ac- 
 cording to his account of it, the Chevalier looked him 
 straight through and through until he dared not tell 
 a lie. 
 
 "Mind that you tell me the truth. Who gave you 
 this note?" 
 
 "Captain de Mouret." 
 
 "When?" 
 
 "Last night." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "At his quarters." 
 
 "To whom did he say you should deliver it?"
 
 A NOTE WHICH WENT ASTRAY 2$ 5 
 
 "To Madame Agnes de la Mora." 
 
 The Chevalier stooped, picked up the envelope, and 
 re-read the superscription, handing it over to my lady, 
 who took it unseeing. 
 
 "Did he expect a reply?" 
 
 "Yes, my lord." 
 
 "And where did he say to bring it?" 
 
 "Bring it to him when he returned from across the 
 Bay this afternoon. I was to await him upon the shore.' 
 
 "At what hour?" 
 
 "None was named, my Lord ; he said it would be late, 
 perchance " 
 
 Verily, as Jacques told it me, he must have drained 
 the stupid fellow dry. 
 
 Then the Chevalier turned to my lady with the ut- 
 most courtesy: 
 
 "What say you, Madame, shall I bear your reply to 
 this gentle captain? For by my faith, Madame, you re- 
 quire a more careful go-between than this, one more dis- 
 creet and less glib of tongue." 
 
 "Charles, upon my honor, I know nothing of all this; 
 I have never seen this Captain de Mouret." 
 
 He looked as if he did not hear her. He glanced at 
 the sun, full two hours high, drew his sword and started 
 to leave the garden. 
 
 He paused to doff his cap, and say, "I bear your 
 message for you, Madame; verily, I am honored." 
 
 My lady neither screamed nor fainted during his 
 questioning of Jacques ; she stood and listened as one
 
 256 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 dazed, or who but dimly understood. The Chevalier 
 strode out sword in hand. 
 
 "For shame, Charles," she called to him calmly 
 enough, though she was deadly pale, "here is some 
 wretched mistake " 
 
 "Yes, there does appear to have been a mistake in 
 the delivery of this precious billet. I will speedily make 
 that right." 
 
 "Charles, Charles!" 
 
 He turned. Her bearing was full as proud as his. 
 He looked from the woman to the paper in his hand. 
 
 "Well, if you know not this man, then he has wan- 
 tonly insulted you. I shall await this Captain de Mouret 
 by the water, and there I shall know the truth. He 
 shall explain what means this pretty letter to my wife." 
 
 Jacques watched her proudly erect figure enter the 
 door. He saw her sway a moment in indecision, then 
 sink beside the bed to pray. She came shortly to the 
 door again and called him. The fellow's brain worked 
 slowly, and he had not yet comprehended the extent of 
 mischief he had done. That he had done something 
 amiss, though, he began to understand. 
 
 "You had that note from Monsieur le Capitaine de 
 Mouret?" 
 
 "Yes, Madame." 
 
 "And he said deliver it to me?" 
 
 "To Madame Agnes de la Mora. Am I not right?" 
 
 "Yes, I am Madame Agnes de la Mora, but that note 
 was not intended for me."
 
 A NOTE WHICH WENT ASTRAY 257 
 
 She came closer to Jacques, so close indeed she laid 
 her trembling hand upon his sleeve. 
 
 "Tell me you know this Captain de Mouret well 
 tell me if you would save an innocent woman, has this 
 Captain de Mouret a love affair here? Answer me, an- 
 swer me truly, has he a love affair, or or a mistress?" 
 
 Her innocence and direct question abashed Jacques 
 sorely and set him a wondering what manner of es- 
 capade was this his master had got into. 
 
 "I will go to her, be she what she may, go to any- 
 body ; my husband must not kill this innocent man. No ; 
 and here I disturb myself about my own reputation, 
 while two lives are in jeopardy. I must think, I must 
 act but how?" 
 
 And she broke down to weep again, showing the wo- 
 man in her that was behind so brave a front. Her tears 
 were not for long. Jacques felt it was his turn now to 
 say something, so he blundered out, "See the Gover- 
 nor;" then one whit better he went, "/ will see the 
 Governor for you." 
 
 The good fellow had in that moment for the first time 
 realized that he could stop the affair, and do it he 
 would if he had to quit the colony. And she such a 
 lovely lady, so gentle with the poor. 
 
 "Do you not fear to speak with him of such as this?" 
 
 "No, Madame, Bienville's soldiers do not fear him; 
 they leave that for his enemies." 
 
 And so it fell out that Jacques told the Governor. 
 And he told him all. 
 17 BLACK WOLF
 
 258 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 It was ever Bienville's wont to act with quick decision. 
 
 "Order Major Boisbriant to report to me at once." 
 And off posted Jacques upon his errand. 
 
 That officer attended with military promptitude. 
 
 "Major Boisbriant, do you seek on the instant the 
 Chevalier de la Mora, and bear him company wherever 
 he may go until you are relieved. Put upon him no re- 
 straint, and say nothing of your having such orders 
 from me if you can avoid it. There is trouble brewing 
 here, which I want to prevent; an affair of honor, you 
 understand. He has gone toward the landing on the 
 Bay. Be discreet and delicate." 
 
 Boisbriant nodded his comprehension, saluted, and 
 was gone. Bienville turned to Jacques. 
 
 "Saddle my horse at once and bring him here." 
 
 It was much later than I had hoped before I could 
 with decency return to Biloxi. Impatient, childish and 
 excited I recrossed the bay, leaving a little detail of 
 soldiers to watch beside the body of my friend. As soon 
 as I saw Jacques on the other shore I knew something 
 had gone wrong. That senseless knave was pacing un- 
 certainly about the beach, stopping here and there to 
 dig great holes in the sand with his toe, and carefully 
 filling them up again. The fellow, ever on the watch 
 for me, was at the same time watching the path from 
 Biloxi, and seemed to dread my coming. Instead of 
 meeting me at the water, he waited for me to approach 
 him, thus leaving the two boatmen out of hearing. 
 
 "Well, give me the note; why stand there like a driv-
 
 A NOTE WHICH WENT ASTRAY 259 
 
 eling fool," for the fellow's hesitant manner angered and 
 frightened me. 
 
 "There is no note, sir." 
 
 "No reply?" 
 
 "The lady sent none." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 Under my questions Jacques turned red and pale, 
 then he blundered out : 
 
 "The Chevalier de la Mora said he would bring the 
 answer to you himself at the shore." 
 
 He kept his eyes fast riveted upon another hole he 
 was digging in the sand. 
 
 "The Chevalier?" I knew what that meant. Great 
 God ! and this was the end of it all. 
 
 "Tell me, you bungling fool, what knows he of this?" 
 
 "Pardon, Master; I thought no harm of it; you had 
 never before employed me on such an errand." 
 
 It was now my own turn to seek the ground with my 
 eyes, so just, so humble was the rebuke. 
 
 "I thought no harm of it, sir, and gave it to Madame 
 in the garden ; she called upon the Chevalier to read it 
 for her." 
 
 "What said he? To her? Was he violent?" 
 
 "No sir, most polite; terribly polite, and cool; but, 
 master, you must not meet him; he will kill you." 
 
 Of this I had scant doubt. 
 
 "Did he make no sign as if he would do her harm?" 
 
 "No, sir, not then, but he looked so queer one could 
 hardly say what he meditated. I would not care to 
 have him look at me like that."
 
 26O THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 I was paralyzed by the suddenness of the ill-fortune 
 which had befallen, but I was to be allowed no day of 
 grace in which to plan a line of conduct. My face had 
 been turned all this while toward the sea, there being 
 something soothing to me about the long, even sweep 
 of those bright, blue waters in the south. 
 
 Jacques faced the town. I noted a deprecatory gest- 
 ure, and following his gaze saw the Chevalier himself 
 coming our way at a good round pace. My knees did 
 quake, and the veriest poltroon might have well been 
 ashamed of the overweening fear which possessed me. 
 In defense of which I may say, I believe it was due in 
 large part to my great respect and fondness for de la 
 Mora, as well as a deep consciousness of the justice of 
 his cause. From long habit I looked first to my weap- 
 ons, but for once felt no joy in them. 
 
 "Captain de Mouret," he greeted me with a soldier's 
 formal courtesy. 
 
 "Chevalier de la Mora." 
 
 "Captain, I have the honor to return to you a note 
 which I believe bears your name," and he handed me 
 the unfortunate billet. 
 
 "Am I right? Is that your hand?" 
 
 I scorned to lie, and answered him evenly: 
 
 "It is." 
 
 "Is that note properly directed? To Madame de la 
 Mora?" 
 
 "It is, but " 
 
 "Have you any explanation, sir, to offer?" 
 
 For the life of me I could think of nothing to say ; I
 
 A NOTE WHICH WENT ASTRAY 26 1 
 
 could not tell him the truth, neither could I lie to him 
 with grace. So I simply said : 
 
 "It was not her fault," probably the worst remark I 
 could have made. 
 
 "Then, this note is true? You did meet my wife by 
 appointment in the ruined chapel at Sceaux?" 
 
 "No, by my honor, there was no appointment; I 
 came upon her by chance, and through no consent of 
 hers." 
 
 "And so you presumed to meet my wife in a lonely 
 place which she denies to me upon her honor, as you 
 now swear; you were there 'hot, impulsive and hasty' 
 which this honorable missive of yours craves pardon for. 
 Now you seek another private interview which you say 
 you can not live without?" 
 
 I nodded moodily, wishing only to have the matter 
 over, and avoid his further questioning. 
 
 "By my soul, Captain, I am rejoiced to find you so 
 frank rejoiced that you do not lie. The other, God 
 knows, is bad enough." 
 
 I winced, but held my tongue. 
 
 "Our business, then, is plain enough; and there is no 
 time like the present." 
 
 So saying he cast off his coat and began to roll his 
 sleeves back, leaving bare that magnificent forearm of 
 his, supple and dexterous. Imitating him we were both 
 soon stripped for action. 
 
 I had only my light rapier, worn about the garrison, 
 while he was armed with his heavy campaign blade. I 
 was already a dead man, or so I felt, for there was no
 
 262 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 spirit in me for the fight. Our blades crossed, and im- 
 mediately he noted the disparity of arms. 
 
 "Captain," he remarked, composedly, drawing back 
 a pace. "This is a bad business; I shall surely kill 
 you, but wish to do so as a gentleman. Permit me to 
 exchange our weapons, so you fence not at such great 
 disadvantage." 
 
 And he offered me the hilt of his own reversed sword. 
 
 "Chevalier de la Mora, you are a gallant gentleman, 
 will you believe a man who has not yet lied to you, and 
 who feels a word is your due?" 
 
 "Be quick," he replied, "we maybe interrupted." 
 
 "I have wronged you and will render full atone- 
 ment. But it has only been a wrong of the heart ; one 
 of which I had no control, no choice. Your sweet wife 
 has never, by word or deed, dishonored the noble name 
 she bears." 
 
 "Of course, Captain, it is a gentleman's part to make 
 such protestations. It is fruitless for us to discuss this 
 matter further, except as we had so well begun." 
 
 So intent were we both that neither had seen Jacques 
 leave us, nor had either heard the swift hoof beats of a 
 horse upon the deadening sand, until the rider was full 
 upon us." 
 
 Bienville. Behind him, on foot, just emerging from 
 the brush some distance away, Boisbriant and Jacques. 
 
 "Gentlemen, gentlemen, put by your weapons. What 
 does this mean?" He had flung himself from his horse 
 and stood between. 
 
 De la Mora sullenly dropped his point.
 
 A NOTE WHICH WENT ASTRAY 263 
 
 "A mere private matter of honor, sire." 
 
 "Are there so few enemies of France with whom to 
 fight that you must needs turn your swords at each 
 other to rob me of a good soldier when I need every 
 one?" 
 
 By this time Boisbriant and Jacques had come up, 
 and Bienville commanded : 
 
 "Major, do you accompany the Chevalier de la Mora 
 to his quarters. You will take his parole to remain 
 there during the night, and he will report to me at ten 
 to-morrow. Placide, do you come with me." 
 
 He gave up his horse to Jacques, and taking me by 
 the arm led me in the direction of the garrison. Truly, 
 I was in no better plight, for I feared reproof from the 
 Governor more than the steel of de la Mora. During 
 all this time I said no word. We returned to Biloxi in 
 absolute silence. Bienville, with all a gentleman's in- 
 stinct, recognized the delicacy of my position. 
 
 The Governor took me at once to his own room, and 
 sat me down at the table. 
 
 ' 'Now, Placide, tell me all about this miserable affair. ' ' 
 
 "I can not, sire; believe me, I can not. I beg of 
 you not to put upon me a command I must disobey. 
 This wretched matter is not for me to tell, even to you." 
 
 "A woman?" 
 
 I held my peace. 
 
 "Yes, I thought as much. Is it your fault or his, 
 Placide?" 
 
 "Mine.'
 
 264 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 He drummed on the table with his fingers a while be- 
 fore he spoke again. 
 
 "Then, my lad, there is but one thing I can do, that 
 is to send you away from here at once. You can leave 
 this place to-night, seek out Tuskahoma, make your 
 way to Pensacola, thence to Havana, where I warrant 
 you will find other occupation. Or, if you so desire, I 
 will accredit you to Governor Frontenac in the north." 
 
 I chose Havana, there being the greater prospect of 
 active service there. It took the methodical Governor 
 but brief space to give me such letters as would insure 
 me fitting reception from our brave fellows at Pensa- 
 cola. He placed them in my hand, and I quietly rose 
 to bid him good-night, and good-bye. I would not 
 have ventured upon anything more than a formal word 
 of parting, for I had the consciousness of having done 
 much to forfeit his regard. Hut the old man came over 
 and put his arms about me as he might a beloved son. 
 
 "Placide," he said, "it grieves me to the soul for you 
 to leave me. I love you, boy, as I do my own flesh. 
 You have served me truly, always with affection and 
 honor. I respect your silence now, and ask you for no 
 confidences not your own. Serigny has told me how 
 faithful you were in Paris, and what he heard from oth- 
 ers of your interview with the King. Placide, my lad, 
 even now it fires my blood to think of a boy of mine 
 standing before the mighty Louis, surrounded by our 
 enemies, and daring to tell the truth. It was glorious, 
 glorious, and it saved your Governor. I had minded 
 me in an idle day to hear it all from your own lips.
 
 A NOTE WHICH WENT ASTRAY 265 
 
 Perhaps, some day, who knows, it may yet come. You 
 will lose not an hour in leaving Biloxi, and I have your 
 word to engage in no encounter?" 
 
 "Aye, sire, 5*011 have my word." 
 
 "Good-by, Placide." 
 
 1 had dropped upon my knee, and, taking his hand, 
 kissed it gently. He turned hack into his room, shut 
 the door, and left me alone in the hall. I walked thence 
 straightway to my own quarters, put on hastily the garb 
 of the forest and made all readiness. My toilet was not 
 etohorato, and a shovl hall houi found DM COOtpktelj 
 equipped for the journey. 
 
 Leaving Biloxi, unaccompanied, like a thief in the 
 night, I set out, and having reached the Bay winded a 
 horn until Pachaco heard, then sat me down to wait for 
 his boat.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 THE CHILDREN OF THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 A CCORDING to the Governor's recollection, I had 
 1\ been gone only a short space when a peremptory 
 knock came upon his door. He opened it, and there 
 stood the Chevalier de la Mora, dishevelled and with 
 evidences of haste, but courteous as was his wont. 
 
 "I desire to speak with Captain de Mouret, at once, 
 at once." 
 
 "That you can not do; he has gone. Chevalier, I 
 am astonished. Had I not a gentleman's parole that 
 you should remain in your house this night?" 
 
 "You had, sire, but the conditions were urgent, and 
 see, I have sought Captain de Mouret without arms, so 
 no breach could occur between us." 
 
 "Fortunately, M. le Chevalier, Captain de Mouret has 
 consented to leave this colony to-night, and before the 
 day dawns he will doubtless be many miles away. 
 
 The Chevalier heard like one dumb and undecided, a 
 great doubt tugging at his heart. He departed unstead- 
 ily in the direction of the barracks. 
 
 "Here, my good fellow, hast seen Captain de 
 Mouret?" he inquired of a straggler. 
 
 The man saluted. 
 
 (266)
 
 THE CHILDREN OF THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 267 
 
 "Yes, sire, he but lately went the path towards the 
 Bay." 
 
 "How long since?" 
 
 "A bare quarter of an hour. He was dressed for the 
 forest and went alone." 
 
 During this while I, Placide de Mouret, stranger 
 and outcast, sat upon a grassy hillock awaiting Pachaco 
 wjth his boat. The echoes of my horn had died 
 away in the night, and soon after I caught the sound of 
 running feet, and heard a man's voice calling my name 
 as he ran. To my utter astonishment it was the Cheva- 
 lier, breathless from his speed. 
 
 "Is it you Captain de Mouret?" 
 
 "It is Chevalier," I replied, uncertain at the first 
 who the man could be. 
 
 Seeing him in such a state of mind I knew the strug- 
 gle had come. There be times in every man's life 
 when he recks lightly of consequences, and this was not 
 my night for caring. I had, in a measure, run away 
 thus far from him, and he, not content with this, had 
 pursued me past the limit of forbearance. So anticipat- 
 ing his own action, I began carefully to take off my own 
 coat, and remembered with pleasure that it was not a 
 slight rapier which now hung confidently by my side. 
 
 "No, Captain, not that. I have sought you this time 
 in peace. See, I have no weapons." 
 
 Suiting the gesture to the speech, he flung wide his 
 arms, and showed himself unprepared for battle. 
 
 "Captain, you and I have fought side by side. You 
 are a man of courage, and if you have injured me you
 
 268 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 will render me due account upon my demand. I do 
 demand this of you now, that you return with me to 
 Biloxi at once, upon my assurance as a soldier that no 
 harm will there befall you. This, sir, upon a soldier's 
 honor." 
 
 It was a most unexpected outcome to such an inter- 
 view. I hesitated warily at his request, and then think- 
 ing it could make matters no worse, inquired : 
 
 "How long will you require me, and for what pur- 
 pose?" 
 
 ' 'The time will be most brief, a moment should suf- 
 fice. The purpose I can not give, but it will bring you 
 into no danger. I repeat, upon the word of a man of 
 honor, that you will be permitted to return safely as you 
 came, and no one will follow." 
 
 I must say, in spite of these protests, I did not want 
 to go. But he pressed his wish so earnestly that I fol- 
 lowed the Chevalier down the winding path back to 
 Biloxi, not without great trepidation, however. He 
 walked rapidly in front, and not a word was exchanged 
 between us. We passed the barracks and the Gov- 
 ernor's house, where I thought to stop, but he led me on. 
 Leaving the thicker portions of the little town, he soon 
 paused before his own gate and swung it open. The 
 wild thought now entered my brain that perhaps he had 
 planned some terrible revenge upon his wife, and de- 
 sired to torture me by forcing me to witness it. I hung 
 back at the gate. My own good sword re-assured me, 
 and he mounted the step to throw open the door.
 
 THE CHILDREN OF THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 269 
 
 "Come in, Captain. I regret that I can not give you 
 a more sincere welcome." 
 
 Truly, there was nothing in the aspect of the room to 
 cause alarm. Two ladies were inside, one at either end 
 of a simple working table Agnes and another lady, 
 about her own figure, whom I did not know. The elder 
 woman looked straight in my face with an anxious air. 
 
 The Chevalier did not formally present me. Agnes 
 drooped her head somewhat, and never raised her eyes 
 at my entrance. It was a most awkward situation. As 
 to what de la Mora contemplated I could not venture the 
 wildest guess ; certainly no violence in the presence of 
 this other lady who looked so cool while yet so pale. 
 
 "Captain de Mouret, as you hope for your soul's sal- 
 vation, I conjure you to tell me the whole truth. I do 
 solemnly promise you, upon a soldier's honor, at the 
 very worst which may come, I will only leave this col- 
 ony, and will not injure any one." 
 
 I had seen de la Mora on many a field, but never did 
 he look stronger or nobler than on that night. His 
 voice sounded full and clear despite the intensity of his 
 suffering. 
 
 "Captain de Mouret, you are a soldier, a brave one, 
 as my own eyes have witnessed, reputed a man of un- 
 tarnished honor. Will you truly answer me one ques- 
 tion upon the sacred Blood of Christ?" 
 
 His earnestness appealed to every better instinct of 
 my nature, so I replied to him: 
 
 "I will." 
 
 "Have I your oath?"
 
 2/0 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 "You have." 
 
 "Then, sir, to which of these ladies, if either, did you 
 intend this note should be delivered; and which, if 
 either, did you meet at the ruined chapel at Sceaux? 
 Speak, in God's name, and do not spare me! Suspi- 
 cion is more terrible than truth." 
 
 The very worst had come, and I felt my resolution 
 waver. I knew not what story Agnes had told her hus- 
 band, nor did I know who that other lady was. She 
 looked enough like Agnes to have afforded shallow pre- 
 text for an evasion. Verily here was a strong temptation 
 for a lie, and I was almost minded to tell it and relieve 
 Agnes. Agnes, though, would give me no cue; never 
 once did she lift her eyes to mine. I might even then 
 have told the lie, but for the reflection it would compro- 
 mise an innocent woman. 
 
 "Captain, in God's name, speak! do you not see 
 that I am quiet and self-controlled?" 
 
 ' ' Chevalier de la Mora, I shall tell you the exact 
 truth, and hold you to your promise that there shall be 
 no violence now. What I did was through my fault 
 alone, nor did your lady give me the slightest encour- 
 agement she is blameless. It is a sore strait you have 
 placed me in, but this is the lady who has all a soldier's 
 love, and a soldier's respect, which she has done noth- 
 ing to forfeit." 
 
 As I spoke, I indicated the shrinking figure of Agnes, 
 and turned to meet the storm. Verily the storm did 
 come, but from a different source. 
 
 The elder lady rose with a fervent "Thank God!"
 
 THE CHILDREN OF THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 2/1 
 
 which I could find no reason for her saying. Agnes 
 nervously twisted at the table cover, her cheeks crimson 
 with the shame. I could not resist a long look down 
 upon her, and do what I might, my love showed full and 
 strong in my face and mien. 
 
 De la Mora keenly watched us all. That other lady, 
 for whom I had no thought, to my utter surpiise, 
 moved toward him with hands outstretched, and cried: 
 "Charles." 
 
 For a moment he hesitated, then : 
 
 "Oh, Agnes, Agnes, a lifetime's love and service 
 can not compensate you for what I've made you suffer 
 the doubt I bore my loyal wife." 
 
 He fell upon his knee before her and carried her hand 
 to his lips as though she were a goddess, and then sprang 
 toward me with the gladdest of glad smiles, thrust his 
 hand at me, and came near to cracking mine by the 
 vigor of his grasp. His throat choked up, and he said 
 nothing. 
 
 And all this while I looked from one to the other with 
 a most dull and stupid stare. 
 
 Agnes looked up at me once, radiant and confused, 
 then lowered her eyes again. 
 
 The Chevalier broke a silence which was becoming 
 intolerable, to me at least, who did not understand it all. 
 
 "Captain de Mouret, you have been in error, and 
 have done me no wrong. This lady here is my wor- 
 shiped wife, Madame Agnes de la Mora." I looked 
 upon her incredulously, while that gracious woman took
 
 2/2 THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED 
 
 one hand from her husband long enough to extend to 
 me her greeting. 
 
 Thoroughly perplexed by this most unlocked for de- 
 nouement, I asked: 
 
 "Who, then, is this?" 
 
 "This chit," he replied, walking round the table, 
 happy as a boy, and almost lifting her bodily, "this is 
 Madame's little sister, Charlotte. She confessed this 
 evening to having spoken with you once in the Chapel at 
 Sceaux and I, may God forgive me, doubted but she 
 had done it to shield her sister I knew the little minx 
 had warned you in the Park, but thought nothing of it. 
 Charlotte, come here ! ' ' 
 
 And Charlotte de Verges laid her warm little hand in 
 mine. For thirty years it has rested there in peace. 
 ******** 
 
 Thus, through many strange perils and purifying sor- 
 rows came the abiding happiness which blessed these last 
 two children of the "Black Wolf's Breed." 
 
 FINIS
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 IS-BLACK WOLF (273)
 
 I have included here the full text of the docu- 
 NOTE BY ments contained in the iron box, sent to Placide de 
 OR< Mouret by Colonel D'Ortez, just prior to his death. 
 One of these papers, that showing the male descendants of Henri 
 d'Artin and of Pedro Ortez, which proved that Francois Rene 
 Alois de Pasquier was the father of Placide and which indicated 
 that the wife of the Chevalier de la Mora and her sister were the 
 grandchildren of Colonel D'Ortez, was set out in the body of the 
 narrative and will be found in Chapter XXII. These supplement- 
 ary documents (which are historically accurate) confirm, not only 
 the story related by Colonel D'Ortez to Placide, but also the strange 
 story told by mad Michel under the shadow of the Castle of Car- 
 tillon. While they may add little to the narrative interest of the 
 main story, these documents serve to confirm some of the least 
 credible incidents of the tale, and it was thought, therefore, worth 
 while to include them here. 
 
 (275)
 
 DOCUMENT No. I 
 
 Document No. I, indorsed on back, "Notes chiefly written by the 
 Abbot of Vaux." 
 
 In Nomine Pafris, et Filii, et Sanctus Spiritus. Amen. 
 
 I, Laurent of Lorraine, Benedictine, by Divine permission Ab- 
 bot of Vaux, do make these writings and divers memoranda, partly 
 from my own unworthy knowledge, and partly from facts openly 
 notorious and resting on the testimony of witnesses as credible as 
 there be in this world of falsehood and vanity. 
 
 All of which latter portion, concerning one Pedro d'Ortez and 
 his descendants, is here set down at the special prayer and per- 
 suasion of said d'Ortez, a profane and sacrilegious lord, yet whose 
 past service to the Holy Church should not be forgotten, though 
 his late riotous and ungodly life hath much grieved the faithful 
 brotherhood. 
 
 THEREFORE, I, Laurent, Abbot, as above stated, do make and 
 inscribe this chronicle, beginning this, the 2gth day of June, in the 
 year of grace, one thousand five hundred and seventy-six, accord- 
 ing to the eccleciastical computation. 
 
 And herein: 
 
 ITEM the first (Being a copy of entries made by my own hand 
 upon the register of the monastery, now preserved in the archives 
 of the same.) Aug. 26, 1572. Admitted to the sanctuary and 
 protection of the monastery this day a certain suckling babe, 
 aged about two years. 
 
 The infirm servitor by whom said babe was tended, dying the 
 same day, despite all efforts and prayers. 
 
 August 28th, 1572. Died August 26th, 1572, at Cartillon, Henri 
 Francois Placide d'Artin, Count of Cartillon, Seigneur de Mas- 
 signac, etc., a heretic and apostate, falling before the wrath of 
 
 (277)
 
 2/8 APPENDIX 
 
 God on occasion of the pious stratagem of the Feast of the Blessed 
 Bartholomew, arranged by Her Most Gentle Majesty, and the du- 
 tiful son of Church, Henri, due de Guise. 
 
 Note. The babe aforementioned being the son and heir of above, 
 was admitted to communion of the church and baptized Barthol- 
 omew Pasquier. 
 
 Further note. Sept. Qth, 1589. Bartholomew Pasquier being 
 designed for orders, but unruly and rebellious in spirit, ran away 
 upon the murder of our good King Henri, third of that name, and 
 joined himself with the armies of the heretic Henri, Prince of 
 Bearne, self-styled King of France and Navarre. 
 
 Afterward, when the said Henri, repenting of his errors, re- 
 united with the true Church, said Bartholomew appears again as a 
 major in his guards, holding a firm place, it was said, in the King's 
 favor.
 
 DOCUMENT No 2 
 (Abbot Laurent's writing) 
 
 Statement of Brothers Anselmo and Jehan, touching the rites of 
 exorcism by them administered, contra d&monios, to the temporal 
 and seigneural lord, Pedro d'Ortez, Count of Cartillon fourteenth 
 of said lordship a man of profane blood, dying in grievous tor- 
 ment of soul, possessed of foul and wicked fiends may God protect 
 all true Christians from the same. AMEN. 
 
 ANSELMO DI NAPOLI. 
 
 JEHAN DE TOURS. 
 
 In Nomine Patris, et Filii, et Sanctus Spiritus. Amen. 
 
 It was come the early part of the night when there arose at the 
 outer gate such an unseemly clattering of hoofs and rattle of 
 worldly weapons as greatly terrified our humble-minded brethren, 
 engaged at their devotions. 
 
 The holy Abbot, being retired at his prayer and pious medita- 
 tions, Brother Jehan, worthy and devout, in humility of spirit 
 inquired of their errand. Being informed in hot haste that the 
 puissant and mighty Lord of Cartillon lay dying in sin, possessed 
 of frenzies and fiends, and stood in need most urgent of extreme 
 unction, we deliberated thereupon together. 
 
 "Hurry, haste, good fathers, ere it be too late; we have here two 
 stout palfreys to bear you to his couch." 
 
 The Abbot having in due season come forth from his closet, we 
 were commanded to go forthwith to minister to the needs of the 
 noble Count. 
 
 Provided with holy oil, and the ritual for casting out demons, 
 bearing a piece of the true cross, before which no evil being can 
 prevail, we rode away at so rough a pace withal, through constant 
 
 (279)
 
 280 APPENDIX 
 
 urging and imprecations of the men at arms, as caused us to be 
 sorely shaken and disturbed, both in mind and body. 
 
 Arrived at Cartillon, we made great speed to repair to his bed- 
 side, where, of a truth, the man lay flat of his back, weak in flesh, 
 but stout and rebellious of soul, contrary to the doctrines of our 
 most blessed religion. 
 
 Before he caught sight of us, he moaned and .heaved, pointing 
 his fingers ever out of the window, and uttering strange heathen 
 blasphemies whereat we crossed ourselves piously. 
 
 Following the direction of his gaze we saw naught save the 
 starlit dome of heaven. 
 
 The eyes of the demon gave him power to see diabolical and 
 unclean forms. 
 
 Sorely distracted thereat, he cried out in direst fear: 
 
 "Hence ! Hence ! Seek my mother in Hell, for it was her doing. 
 I would have spared the women." 
 
 The man being clearly possessed of an evil demon, we immedi- 
 ately made ready the sacred offices of the church for the casting 
 out of such. 
 
 Believing from the demon voice issuing through the possessed 
 man's lips that it was the woman fiend, Lilith, who in female 
 guise doth walk the earth in darkness, we resorted with much 
 speed to the office specially prepared for that evil and depraved 
 being. 
 
 The holy ritual was being devoutly read by Brother Anselmo, 
 when the man, turning in his couch, caught sight of us at our sa- 
 cred labors. He thereupon, with many profane and blasphemous 
 oaths, bade us cease and begone. 
 
 "Out! Out upon you, thou shaveling hypocrites! Thinkest thou 
 I am become a helpless woimn to profit of thy mummeries? No, 
 by the body of Jupiter. Get out! get out!" 
 
 "Oh, weak and rebellious son of Holy Church, calm thy troubled 
 spirit and take unto thyself the most blessed peace of God. Re- 
 pent thine errors, and prepare thy mind for the Paradise of the 
 just." 
 
 Verily, it was an evil and malignant demon which controlled 
 him, for the words but struck a pagan madness to his heart, and 
 he sprang from his couch. 
 
 "Hush! Hush your priestly lies, which sink a new terror in
 
 APPENDIX 28l 
 
 my soul. It can not, can not be, this other world where men re- 
 ceive the reward or punishment drawn upon themselves in this. 
 Thou liest, thou canting monk-faced coward ; it is all a lie of priest- 
 craft. 
 
 " There is no God, no Hell ; no, I will not, will not believe it. Get 
 thee hence before I drive thee to the gibbet and fling thy quarters 
 to hawk and hound." 
 
 We crossed ourselves in horror, kissing the piece of the true 
 cross, fearing his presence and terrible blasphemy would draw a 
 bolt from Heaven. But there he stood, for some divine purpose 
 secure in his body from the vengeance of God. 
 
 So fierce a fire consumed his strength he sank again in mortal 
 weakness on his couch. 
 
 We watched him long. He gazed as one fixed by an evil eye, 
 through the open window straight toward an ancient well across 
 the court-yard. 
 
 He mumbled words whereof we could only guess the import. 
 He raised a long, thin finger, knotted at the joints, and pointed to 
 the well: 
 
 " Do you hear it? Oh, mother, mother, it was your doing ! Listen 
 now. Dost hear their cries in Hell? See, see, the body turns and 
 swings, softly, softly," and he covered his face, uttering the most 
 plaintive cries. 
 
 He started up again and went to the window, stretching out his 
 arm as before. We could see nothing but the court and old well, 
 long dry of water. 
 
 "See, there she is; see, see; I come, I come." 
 
 And regarding not our sacred relics or adjurations, he passed 
 out the door, down the stair of winding stone, through the men 
 who, palsied by craven fears, put not forth their hands to stay ; 
 staring before him with wide-open eyes which saw not, d'Ortez 
 strode through them all into the vacant court-yard. 
 
 No pause he made, but straightway went toward the well, 
 whither at some distance be it humbly confessed we followed. 
 
 At first he but peered within and listened ; then he stood quiet 
 for a space, as if he waited, for what we could not tell. 
 
 None of us being sufficiently near to prevent, and the power of 
 the demon prevailing over weak and mortal flesh, he mounted the 
 curb, and, amid the most horrid shrieks, cursings and revilings
 
 282 APPENDIX 
 
 proceeding from the foul demon Lilith, he plunged himself bodily 
 in the darkness below, wherefrom came only faint groans for a 
 short space. 
 
 Thus died Pedro d'Ortez, Lord of Cartillon. 
 
 Leaving the task of getting out his body to those vassals who, 
 greatly perturbed in spirit, gathered at the spot, we hastened 
 away horrified at such abominations of Beelzebub as we had wit- 
 nessed, being for our fear and little faith made culpable before 
 God, and hoping to repurchase peace by great penitence. 
 
 Report made and rendered to the Most Reverend and Illustri- 
 ous Father in God, Laurent, Abbot of the Monastery of Vaux, this 
 the tenth day of July in the year of grace one thousand five hun- 
 dred and ninety-six. 
 
 (Signed) ANSELMO DI NAPOLI, 
 
 JEHAN DE TOURS.
 
 DOCUMENT No. 3 
 (Concerning Raoul d'Ortez) 
 
 Indorsed on back, "Further notes by Abbot of Vaux." 
 
 In Nomine Patris, et Filii, et Sanctus Spiritus. Amen. 
 
 Further facts having come to my knowledge, in this, the year of 
 grace one thousand five hundred and eighty nine, which do most 
 gloriously illustrate the dispensations of a just God, and His visita- 
 tion of the sins of the father upon the children of them who hate 
 Him, it is deemed meet and proper that they be here set down 
 and perpetuated for that future generations may know the truth; 
 Therefore: 
 
 Be it held in everlasting memory, that Pedro d'Ortez, the same 
 who has been by me beforementioned as of a profane, carnal and 
 blood-guilty life, living not with the fear of God before his eyes, 
 but filled with evil at the instigation of the devil: The said 
 Pedro having at this period two sons, desired that the elder should, 
 according to secular law, inherit his title and lands. He desired 
 also, that the younger, Raoul, might enter the armies of the King. 
 But Raoul, nothing loath, in so far as the fighting there was con- 
 cerned, lusted yet for the gold and acres which were his father's. 
 Pedro, the elder brother, being of a mild and amiable temper, de- 
 signed more for the cloister than the camp, Raoul jested and jibed 
 at him alway for his gentle disposition and meekness of spirit. 
 
 All of these facts being stated and related to me by Brother Ju- 
 lian, who went betimes to the castle for alms and tithes which 
 same were frequent denied and withheld, to the great detriment of 
 our just dues. 
 
 One day, after a more than usually violent quarrel between 
 Pedro and Raoul, their father came suddenly upon them in a re- 
 tired portion of the castle grounds. The sight was enough to 
 (283)
 
 284 APPENDIX 
 
 startle even a man so used to shedding human blood as had been 
 the Lord of Cartillon. 
 
 Pedro was slowly sinking to the ground, easing himself down 
 somewhat upon his knees and elbows. Hisbrothei stood near watch- 
 ing, and calmly wiping the red drippings from his sword upon 
 the grass. Not a semblance of regret did he show for the deed 
 of blood. 
 
 The father gazed transfixed with horror from one son to the 
 other, until the slow comprehension came to him. 
 
 "How now, Raoul, what hast thou done?" the older man de- 
 manded of Raoul. 
 
 "Canst thou not see? He stood between me and the lordship 
 of this fair domain," the younger replied full as sturdily, hot and 
 scornful, with lowering brow and unrepenting glare. 
 
 "Thou foul and unnatural murderer, and thinkest thou to profit 
 by thy brother's death? No; I swear" 
 
 "Hold, old man; swear not and taint not thy soul with perjury. 
 Have a care for thine own safety. It is now but the feeble barrier 
 of thy tottering age which prevents all these acres, these fighting 
 men, these towers from being my own. Have a care, I say, that 
 thou dost not lie as low as he, and by my hand." 
 
 The old man fell back a pace affrighted, feeling for the first time 
 in his life a fear, fear of his own son. Yet the scornful and defi- 
 ant face before him was that of his true child. Therein he saw re- 
 flected his own turbulent and reckless youth. The wretched old 
 man covered his face from the sight of Pedro, his first born, who 
 had settled down upon his back in the repose of death, and moaned 
 aloud in his agony. 
 
 "Nay, sorrow not, my father," Raoul commanded harshly, "it was 
 but a weakling who stood next thy seat of power. Behold 1 I, too, 
 am thy son; I am stronger, of a stouter heart, abler and more cour- 
 ageous than he, and will make thee a fitter heir. Didst thou not 
 slay thy brother to sit in his hall? Didst not thou hang him to 
 drink his wine, to command his servants?" Have I done aught 
 but follow thy example?" 
 
 Heedless of his father's sobs Raoul pursued his unrelenting pur- 
 pose. 
 
 "What the sword did for thee it has done for me, all glory to the
 
 APPENDIX 285 
 
 sword," and he raised the reeking blade to his lips to kiss. The 
 elder man shrank away from him as he approached. 
 
 "Nay, as I tell thee, draw not thy hand away, turn not from me, 
 or by the blood of Christ, by thine own gray hairs, I'll lay thee 
 beside thy woman-son, the puny changeling whose face now is 
 scarce paler than his blood was thin. Now, by the God who made 
 ye, swear 'twill be given out as but an accident, and no man will 
 ever know from thee the truth." 
 
 "I swear, I swear," the old man repeated piteously after his son. 
 
 And so it came to be that Raoul, the second son, succeeded his 
 father as Lord of Cartillon. 
 
 And thus is the promise of the Lord God made true.
 
 DOCUMENT No. 4 
 (Concerning the making of the locket) 
 
 Extracts from the statement of Miguel Siliceo, goldsmith, of 
 San Estevan de Gormaz, as given in presence of Brothers Jehan 
 and Hubert, only such portions being here set out as have relation 
 hereto, for the sake of greater brevity and perspicuity. 
 
 Said Miguel Siliceo, Spaniard, sojourning in the town of Rouen, 
 having come to the Monastery of Vaux to unburthen his soul of 
 certain diabolical knowledge and happenings which preyed 
 thereon, to his great distress and distraction of mind, having first 
 solemnly sworn upon the name of St. lago of Compostella, his 
 patron, to speak truth, did say: * * * 
 
 I came to Chateau Cartillon in the year of grace one thousand 
 six hundred and forty-two, upon the solicitation of its lord, he 
 having known me upon the banks of the Douro for a master work- 
 man, well skilled in rare and curious devices, both of metals and 
 precious stones. For more than two years I rested in and about 
 the castle, seeing much whereof my soul hath need of ease and 
 God's forgiveness. * * * 
 
 * * * One day Count Raoul, being vexed and much disturbed, 
 commanded my attendance upon him. 
 
 "My good Miguel," he spake in voice much softer than was his 
 wont, "I do require of you a proof of utmost skill." 
 
 I bowed my willingness to undertake a commission. 
 
 "I require a golden locket, such as man never saw before, of 
 rare and cunning device. Do you forthwith make it for me, show- 
 ing upon the one side the black wolf's head of d'Artin, and quar- 
 terings, in fairest inlaid work. Upon the other and hidden side, 
 let it appear the black wolf's head as before, but surcharged with 
 the bar sinister. You know. And let it be concealed by so se- 
 cretly a hidden spring, no hand but mine can touch or find," and 
 as he spoke on, his tongue flew the faster, his eyes roved about, he 
 (286)
 
 APPENDIX 287 
 
 kept tight grip upon his sword as if he feared. He, Raoul of Car- 
 tillon, the man whose headlong courage was an army's byword, he 
 feared in his own hall. 
 
 Even so, for proceeding further, his speech grew more wild, and 
 I fain would have fled. 
 
 "You know my oath to my father." I of course knew naught of 
 the matter, nor do I know it yet, though I have diligent inquired. 
 
 " My oath to forego the hall, give up my place with my fighting 
 men. Yea, upon my father's sword I swore, recking light of an 
 oath, and the old man, dying, would have it so. That oath tor- 
 ments me now. The evil demons of the air haunt my bed; fiends 
 leer at me through the day and whisper all the night. I see my 
 father's soul writhing in the fires of Hell, and there he lays and 
 beckons me to him. But no, by the heart of Mars I'll be no 
 craven fool to give up my castle and my name. Perhaps my son 
 may, I'll make him swear to me to do so. Yet I fear; I fear; I like 
 not that pit of scorching flame where my father suffers because he 
 did lay his hand upon his brother." 
 
 I could not but look him in the face, and he thought there was 
 wisdom in my glance, for he clutched me at the throat. 
 
 "Ah, thou prying hound, what dost thou know? Speak ! Speak !" 
 
 But speak I could not, though a soul's salvation hung on my 
 glib and nimble tongue. 
 
 Count Raoul soon loosed me, seeing my ignorance. Yet some 
 dark story had I heard and repeated not the crimes of the great 
 are too dangerous morsels for a poor man to mouth. 
 
 "Go now to thy shop, and mark ye, sirrah, that no man sees thy 
 work." 
 
 I had hardly gotten well to my forge before three stout varlets 
 came in on a pretense of seeing a golden bracelet which I showed 
 them without suspecting aught. When, my back well turned, they 
 slipped gyves upon my wrists, bound me by a great band of iron 
 at the waist, and made all fast to the huge stone pillar. 
 
 Thenceforward, all through the days and nights which followed, 
 one of these men stood ever at my window to see I worked with 
 speed, worked on the locket and not upon my chains. 
 
 Count Raoul came many times as the work progressed, but the 
 guards were alway at too great a distance to tell in what quaint 
 form my beaten gold was fashioned.
 
 288 APPENDIX 
 
 Many, many lockets I made of cunning workmanship and de- 
 sign, of curious chasings and most marvelous wrought intertwin- 
 ings, yet none suited my lord. One after one they returned to the 
 melting pot and my labors re-commenced. 
 
 During the long months I was thus engaged, I saw the Count 
 often, nay, more than daily, for his whole feverish life seemed in- 
 woven with the yellow and white metals I was busy interlacing 
 and rounding and polishing up. 
 
 At times an abject fear sat upon his countenance, and he mum- 
 bled of strange sights he saw, of communings with the Prince of 
 Darkness, of specters gaunt and hideous that glided through the 
 deserted court-yard, and stood beside his chair even in the noisy 
 banquet chamber. 
 
 For that the Count was mad I could not doubt. 
 
 Yea, of all these things he spake as he urged me on as a lazy 
 horse under whip and goad, to finish, finish. 
 
 I inquired of this at great risk of one of the men who stood 
 guard; he tapped his forehead, and replied : 
 
 "He does all things so. It is so in camp, on the field, in the 
 hall. Aye, but he's a very fiend in battle," and the fellow's eye 
 brightened with a fierce pleasure at the thought of- his lord's well- 
 known prowess for Count Raoul had wandered much in foreign 
 lands, and deeds of blood followed in whispers to his door. 
 
 It is of these dealings with the evil lord, and close association 
 with one possessed, I seek cleansing. * * * Too often did I 
 pass the names of Rusbel, Ashtaroth, Beelzebub, Satan and others 
 trippingly upon my tongue may the Saints defend to keep my 
 lord's temper smooth, for I verily believe he meant to slay me 
 when my task was done. 
 
 It was for this I made my work long and tedious, that the acid 
 I was daily using on my chains might have due season to eat them 
 through, and I could be free. 
 
 * * * finished at length to his satisfaction, and slipped off 
 through the night. 
 ********* **** 
 
 Stated and subscribed in presence of Brothers Jehan and Hu- 
 bert, on this the morrow of All Saints', in the year of grace one 
 thousand six hundred and forty-six. 
 
 MIGUEL SILICEO.
 
 LIST OF THE PUBLICATIONS OF 
 THE BOWEN-MERRILL COMPANY.
 
 ALPHABETICAL LIST OP THE BOWEN-MEKRILL 
 COMPANY'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 Indianapolis, Indiana, U. S. A. 
 
 Anthony. THK LIFE AND WORK OF SUSAN B. ANTHONY. By 
 Ida Husted Harper. A Story of the Evolution of the 
 Status of Woman. Two volumes, 8vo, with 48 full-page 
 pictures and over 100 facsimile autographs of prominent 
 
 people. Ornamental cloth, per set, two vols $6 00 
 
 Half leather, 9.00; full leather 12 00 
 
 Barr. HIGH PRESSURE STEAM BOILERS. A Practical Treatise. 
 By William M. Barr. With 203 illustrations, many of them 
 
 double page, and 95 tables. Crown 8vo, 456 pages, net 3 00 
 
 THK COMBUSTION OF COAL. A Practical Treatise. By 
 William M. Barr. With 49 illustrations and 26 tables; 308 
 pages, 8vo, cloth, net 2 50 
 
 Black Wolf's Breed, The. See DICKSON, HARRIS. 
 
 Bolton. PADDLE YOUR OWN CANOE, AND OTHES POEMS. By 
 
 Sarah T. Bolton. 12mo, cloth 125 
 
 Brown. SELECTIONS FROM LUCIAN. Translated by Professor 
 Demarchus C. Brown, of Butler College. 16mo, cloth, un- 
 cut, gilt top 1 25 
 
 Burdette. CHIMES FROM A JESTER'S BELLS. An entirely 
 new volume of humorous and pathetic stories and sketches. 
 By Robert J. Burdette. Beautifully illustrated and bound 
 in uniform style with Bill Nye'a "A Guest at the Ludlow." 
 Crown 8vo, gilt top 1 25 
 
 Breed's Patent Portfolio Scrap-Book. A scrap-book 
 without paste. Half-American Russia, cloth sides, size 
 
 6x9 inches, price - 3 00 
 
 Large size, 9x12 inches, price 5 00 
 
 Caskoden. WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER. By Charles 
 Major (Edwin Caskoden). A love story of Charles Bran- 
 don and Mary Tudor, sister to King Henry VIII. 12mo, 
 cloth, ornamental, illustrated 1 50 
 
 Castle. THE ARMY MULE. And Other Humorous War 
 Sketches. By Capt. Henry A. Castle. Illustrated by J. 
 W. Vawter. Bound uniform with Bill Nye's "A Guest at 
 theLudlow." Crown 8 vo 125
 
 The Bowen- Merrill Company's Publications 
 
 Century Series of Readings, Recitations and Dia- 
 logues. Cloth bound, 12ino, containing about 250 pages, 
 each SO 60 
 
 This series comprises the following volumes of standard recitations 
 selected from the works of the l>est known authors: 
 
 First Serics-For Scbcxils and Colleges. 
 
 Second >eries For Christmas and Other Holidays. 
 
 Third Scries For Little Children. 
 
 Fourth Series For Young People. 
 
 Fifth Series Humorous and Comic. 
 Clark. THE LEGIONARIES. By Henry Scott Clark. 1 volume, 
 
 12mo, cloth, gilt top 1 50 
 
 An historical novel dealing with the great raid made by Morgan's 
 Cavalry through Indiana and Ohio during the Civil War. The story of 
 the conflict and of the intense feeling existing at that time in the 
 Border States" is most skillfully told, and the author's description of 
 the dashing; ride made by the preat raider is dramatic in its interest. 
 Throughout the book is interwoven a pretty love story. 
 
 Cotton. YOUNG FOLKS' HISTORY OF GREECE AND ROME. By 
 Elizabeth J. Cotton. A history for young people of Greece 
 and Rome, from the heroic age to the downfall of the 
 
 Roman Empire. 1 vol., 12mo, cloth, illustrated 75 
 
 YOUNG FOLKS' HISTORY OP THE MIDDLE AGES. By Eliza- 
 beth J. Cotton. A history of the Medieval period from the 
 fall of Rome (A. D. 476) to the discovery of America. 1 
 vol., 12mo, cloth, illustrated 75 
 
 Cropsey. GRADED EXERCISES IN ARITHMETIC. By N. Crop- 
 Bey, Superintendent of Primary Instruction, Indianapolis 
 Public Schools 35 
 
 Dewhurst. DWELLERS IN TENTS. Rev. Frederic E. Dew- 
 hurst's new collection of sermon essays. 12mo, gilt top 125 
 
 Dickson. THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED. By Harris Dickson. 
 
 1 vol., 12mo, cloth, gilt top, illustrated 1 50 
 
 A new story of adventure, stirringly told. Dealing with France iu 
 the period of Louis XIV.it skirts historical ground very closely, and 
 has among its principal characters some men and women well known 
 in French history. An episode of chapter! eleven and twelve, where 
 the Rambling-house, ' ' 
 er and fr 
 
 story of how he strangles 
 
 Brcussard with his hands, and is then kept for hours locked in with 
 the eyes of the dead man staring at him, has been said to be among the 
 strongest pieces of woi k in recent fiction. 
 
 English, Wm. E. A HISTORY OF EARLY INDIANAPOLIS 
 MASONRY AND OF CENTER LODGE. By Capt. William E. 
 English. 8vo, paper, net 50 
 
 English, Wm. H. CONQUEST OF THE NORTHWEST. Conquest 
 of the Country Northwest of the River Ohio, and Life of 
 Gen. George Rogers Clark, with numerous sketchesof men 
 who served under Clark. By William Hayden English, 
 president Indiana Historical Society. In two large 
 volumes. Illustrated,net 600 
 
 the narrator, in escaping from the gambling-house, is loci<ed in a room 
 with his enemy Broussanl; the night of eager and frenzied waiting, the 
 duel in the dark, the treachery and the story of how he strangles
 
 The BoTven- Merrill Company's Publications 
 
 Ewing. THE ART OF COOKERY. A Manual for Homes and 
 
 Schools. By Emma P. Ewing. 1 vol., 12mo, illustrated.. SI 75 
 A TEXT-BOOK OF COOKERY. By Emma P. Ewing, author of 
 "The Art of Cookery." 134 pages, 12mo, substantially 
 bound in cloth 75 
 
 Fishback. RECOLLECTIONS OF LORD COLERIDGE. By W. P. 
 
 Pishback. With portrait, 12mo, uncut 1 25 
 
 Foulke. THE LIFE OF OLIVER P. MORTON, THE WAR GOV- 
 ERNOR OF INDIANA. By William Dudley Foulke. Two 
 large volumes, cloth, gilt top 6 00 
 
 This biography is a most valuable contribution to the history of the 
 country a storehouse of political iufi.rmation. All of Governor Mor- 
 ton's important speeches are reported, many of them in full, and the 
 book throws much valuable light on the measures and motives of war 
 times and the exciting years following. 
 
 Fuller. ROACH & Co., PIRATES. And Other Stories. By 
 
 Hector B^u Her. 12mo, gilt top, uncut 125 
 
 Harris. A HISTORY OF THE TRENT AFFAIR. By Thomas L. 
 Harris. Including a review of Fnglishand American rela- 
 tions at the beginning of the Civil War. Crown 8vo, 
 288 pages- - 1 50 
 
 Howe. THE PURITAN REPUBLIC. By Daniel Wait Howe. 
 
 Large 8vo, cloth, gilt top. 3 50 
 
 In this work Judge Howe gives a concise and accurate history of the 
 Massachusetts Colony, showing' how the persecutions of the early Puri- 
 tans in England led to the emigration to Holland: the emigration of 
 the Leyden congregation to Amerieaand the founding of the Plymouth 
 Colony. The writer follows logically the growth of the Massachusetts 
 republic up to the found:! tion of the greater republic by the federation 
 of the colonies of New England. 
 
 Ideal Series. SELECTED READINGS AND RECITATIONS. In 
 sixteen numbers. Edited by Prof. T. J. McAvoy. 12mo, 
 paper, each 10 
 
 This is the most popular series of ten-cent recitation books mnde. It 
 contains selections by such well-known writers us James \Vhitcomb 
 Riley, Lew Wallace, Thomas Hood.T. Buchanan Read. Mark Twain, 
 Will carleton, Charles Dickens, Eugene Field and many others. The 
 low price makes them especially popular. 
 
 Indiana Historical Society Publications. In 2 volumes, 
 
 8vo, cloth, uncut, with complete index, per volume, net... 4 25 
 
 Johnston. STUDIES; LITERARY AND SOCIAL. First and 
 Second Series. By Richard Malcolm Johnston. New 
 editio^ 1899, two volumes in one, 12mo, cloth... 1 50 
 
 Laughlin. JOHNNIE. A Study of Boyhood. By E. O. Laugh- 
 
 lin. 1 vol., 12mo, handsomely illustrated, cloth bound 1 25 
 
 In this volume the nuthor has told for us the story of a country boy, 
 from his earliest school-days until he is grown to manhood and leaves 
 the farm for the great city beyond. We share with him his griefs and 
 his joys, his first love affair, and the delights of the long summer vaca- 
 tions. It is a rare glimpse into the child- world and a happy one. 
 
 Legionaries, The. See Clark, Henry Scott.
 
 The Bowen- Merrill Company's Publications 
 
 Lodge. A BIT OF FINESSE. By Harriet Newell Lodge. 12mo, 
 
 cloth, gilt top - 51 25 
 
 Major. WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER. By Charles 
 Major. A love story of Charles Brandon and Mary Tudor, 
 sister to King Henry VIII. 12mo, cloth, ornamental, illus- 
 trated 1 50 
 
 The Boston Transcript, Wednesday, April 12, 1899, says : " The con- 
 summate skill with which the love story is told, the cleverness of the 
 dialogue, the rush and sweep of incident, and above all, the forcible 
 directness and effective simplicity of the narrative, have made ' When 
 Knighthood was in Flower" one of the most successful historical 
 romances of a decade. " 
 
 " One of the best romances that has appeared in the last ten years." 
 Chicago Evening Post. 
 
 Mallet, Edmond. SIEUB DE VINCENNES, THE FOUNDER OP 
 
 INDIANA'S OLDEST TOWN. 8vo, paper, net 50 
 
 McDvaine. AMERICAN FUNGI. By Charles Mcllvaine. 1 
 
 vol., quarto, illustrated in colors 10 00 
 
 This is by far the most complete book of American Fungi yet pub- 
 lished. Over 800 species are classified with full botanical descriptions, 
 and the book is illustrated with 32 full-page color plates, over 500 etch- 
 ings and engravings from pen-and-ink drawings and photographs from 
 Nature, and charts and diagrams showing the parts of fungi, which aid 
 In readily tracing species to their genera and names. The volume con- 
 tains a complete glossary, valuable color charts and a record of marked 
 cases of toadstool poisoning, with their treatment; also many valuable 
 recipes for cooking the edible species of fungi. 
 
 McKay, Martha Nicholson. LITERARY CLUBS OF INDIANA. 
 
 8vo, cloth _ 75 
 
 Meigs' Sunday- School Class Books and Records. 
 
 MEIGS' TEACHERS' CLASS BOOKS. No. 1 For 14 scholars 
 
 or less, price 6 cents each, per dozen, postpaid _ 60 
 
 No. 2 Large size, for 20 scholars or less, 10 cents each, per 
 dozen, postpaid- 1 00 
 
 MEIGS' INTERNATIONAL SUNDAY-SCHOOL RECORDS. No.O 
 Large enough for school of 23 classes and 358 scholars, 
 
 bound in heavy paper sides and cloth back 60 
 
 No. 1 Same, bound in substantial cloth covers 1 00 
 
 No. 2 Large enough for 55 classes and 850 scholars, cloth. 1 25 
 
 MEIGS' INTERNATIONAL S. S. SUPERINTENDENT'S POCKET 
 RECORD. Open end, pocket size, American Russia, flexible 
 leather, lasts one year. Price .. 50 
 
 MEIGS' INTERNATIONAL "HOME DEPARTMENT" SUPER- 
 INTENDENT'S RECORD. Capacity, 25 visitors, 16 districts, 
 15 to 25 "classes" and 375 members. No. A Bound in 
 
 flexible, heavy pasteboard covers. Price 50 
 
 No. B Same book, but bound in substantial cloth covers. 
 
 Price 1 00 
 
 A complete and convenient record for the superintendent to note 
 the work of the home study circles. 
 Morton. THE SOUTHERN EMPIRE and Other Papers. By 
 
 Oliver T. Morton. 1 vol., cloth, gilt top _L .1 1 25 
 
 4
 
 The Bowen-Merrill Company's Publications 
 
 Murger. SCENES FROM THE LIFE OF BOHEMIA (Scenes de la 
 Vie Boheme). By Henry Murger. Illustrated with ten 
 etchings from designs by Moutader. Crown 8vo, cloth, 
 gilt top $1 75 
 
 New. A WOMAN REIGNS. By Catherine McLean (Mrs. Harry 
 
 S. New). 16mo .._ 125 
 
 Nicholas. AN IDYL OF THE WABASH; AND OTHER STORIES OF 
 HOOSIER LIFE. By Anna Nicholas. 12mo, 256 pages, gilt 
 top 1 25 
 
 "The volume of Indiana stories ' Au Idyl of the Wabash,' by Miss 
 Anna Nicholas, is filled with simple peace and leisured calm. Miss 
 Nicholas is of the school of literary Quietists, but her stories possess no 
 small character of their own. * * * Humor, shrewdness, and quite 
 inevitable sadness, with a strong sense of character and a feeling for 
 landscape, are the main features in the book, and they are clothed with 
 a style at once simple and strong, which gives an uncommon charm to 
 her work." William Dean Howells. in the London edition of Literature. 
 
 " Not since Edward Eggleston gave to 'the world ' The Hoosier School 
 Master ' have so tender and true pictures of life in the middle West been 
 presented as these from Miss Nicholas." A r . Y. Matt and Express. 
 
 Nicholson. SHORT FLIGHTS. By Meredith Nicholson. Con- 
 tains sixty-nine poems and sonnets. 16mo, cloth 75 
 
 Nye (Bill). A GUEST AT THE LUDLOW. By Edgai Wilson 
 Nye (Bill Nye). A volume of humorous stories and 
 sketches, with twenty-one full page and twelve smaller 
 designs, the latter by the author. Crown 8vo 25 
 
 By arrangement with Mrs. Edgar W. Nye. the Bowen-Merrill Co. 
 have published a volume of humorous stories by Bill Nve (Edgar Wil- 
 son Nye), prepared for publication by him during the last months of 
 his life, entitled, "A Guest at the Ludlow," and Other Stories. It is 
 printed, bound a:id illustrated in a style surpassing anything heretofore 
 issued of Mr. Nye's in book form, and containing the famous humorist's 
 best and most finished work. Twenty-eight stories and numerous illus- 
 trations, including the author's introduction in facsimile. 
 
 Ogan. " AN' NEVER BROUGHT TO MIND." Poems by Mena 
 
 Kemp Ogan. 16mo, gilt top 125 
 
 Reed. TEMPLE TALKS. By Rev. Myron W. Reed. 12mo, 
 
 gilt top, with portrait 1 25 
 
 The volume contains the following essays: The Evolution of the 
 Tramp A Return to Nature Socialism Decoration Day Francis 
 Schlatter An Act Entitled An Act to Amend An Act Suicide Poetic 
 Justice Pere Marquette The Ninety and Nine Emma Abbott The 
 Literature of Power Wendell Phillips Night and Sleep and Rest 
 Easter. 
 
 Reynolds-Krag. MARTHA- JANE. A book of nursery rhymes. 
 By Martha Ann Krag and Florence Krag Reynolds. Illus- 
 trated by Virginia Hynson Keep. The leaves or plates, a 
 dozen in number, are heavy and black, representing slates. 
 On them the text and illustrations are done in white. 
 Square 4to (ina box) 2 00
 
 The Bowen-Merrill Company's Publications 
 
 Riley. The Works of James Whitcomb Biley. 
 
 NEIGHBORLY POEMS. Thirty-six poems in Hoosier dialect, 
 deluding "The Old Swimmin' Hole and 'Leven More 
 Poems, by Benjamin B. Johnson, of Boone," with eight 
 half tone illustrations. 12mo 8125 
 
 SKETCHES IN PROSE. Originally published as " The Boss 
 Girl and Other Stories." Twelve graphic stories, each 
 prefaced by a poem. 12mo 125 
 
 AFTERWHILES. Sixty-two poems and sonnets, serious, 
 pathetic, humorous and dialect, with frontispiece. 12mo. - 1 25 
 
 PIPES o' PAN. Five sketches and fifty poems. The sketches 
 are separated by four books of twelve poems each, with 
 frontispiece. 12mo 225 
 
 RHYMES OP CHILDHOOD. One hundred and two dialect and 
 serious poems. Not for children only, but of childhood 
 days, with frontispiece. 12mo 125 
 
 THE PLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT. A weird and gro- 
 tesque drama in verse. Fantastic, quaint and ingenious. 
 12mo -. 1 25 
 
 GREEN FIELDS AND RUNNING BROOKS. One hundred and 
 two poems and sonnets, dialect, humorous and serious. 
 12mo 1 25 
 
 ARMAZINDY. Contains some of Mr. Riley's latest and best 
 dialect and serious work, including " Armazindy " and the 
 famous Poe poem. 12mo, uniform with his other books- - 1 25 
 
 A CHILD- WORLD. A continuous narrative (in dialect and 
 serious verse) of child-life and old-home tales, in which 
 
 young and old participate in the story-telling. 12mo 125 
 
 Above 9 vols., uniform binding, 12rno, gilt top deckle 
 edges, in a box, per set, S11.25; half calf... 22 50 
 
 OLD-FASHIONED ROSES. Sixty-one selected poems and 
 sonnets, published in England. Printed on hand-made 
 paper, with untrimmed edges, gilt top, and bound in blue 
 and white cloth, 16mo .- 1 75 
 
 THE GOLDEN YEAR. Selections for the Year Round, from 
 the verse and prose of James Whitcomb Riley. Published 
 in London. Uniform with " Old-Fashioned Roses." 16ino, 
 blue and white cloth, gilt top 1 75 
 
 RILEY CHILD-RHYMES WITH HOOSIER PICTURES. A collec- 
 tion of the favorites of Mr. Riley's delightful Child- 
 Rhymes, illustrated with numerous pictures from studies 
 in Hoosierdom by Will Vawter (new). l'2mo 125 
 
 RILEY LOVE LYRICS. With illustrations by W. B. Dyer. 
 12mo,cloth 1 25 
 
 Limited Edition, containing artist's proofs of the illustra- 
 tions and signed by both the author and artist 20 00
 
 The Bowen- Merrill Company's Publications 
 
 Buddy. BOOK LOVER'S VERSE. Edited by Howard S. Ruddy. 
 
 12mo, cloth, gilt top $1 25 
 
 In this volume Mr. Ruddy has gathered the delightful verse that the 
 bookmen of all ages have written about their beloved books. The sub- 
 ject has been acongeuinl one to such a host of writers that Mr. Ruddy's 
 index to authors seems a veritable muster roll of English and American 
 men of letters. Printed upon a fine deckle paper and daintily bound 
 in green and gold, the whole makes a volume that will delight every 
 book lover. 
 
 Stanton. COMES ONE WITH A SONG. A volume of poems by 
 
 Frank L. Stanton. 12mo, gilt top 125 
 
 " Old loves come back and are swee. again; little children laugh in 
 the sunlight: the rose blooms above the cabin door, and all the year is 
 May when he touches his lyre. In this volume, which only a poet 
 could have thought of naming 'Comes One with a bong,' is a collec- 
 tion of verses all instinct with sweetness and melody." New Orleans 
 Picayune. 
 
 S"weetser. ONE WAY ROUND THE WORLD. A volume of 
 
 travel. By Delight Sweetser. 12mo, illustrated, gilt top. 1 25 
 
 We do not hesitate to say Miss Sweetser has written one of the best 
 small books of travel that has made its appearam e. In chapter after 
 chapter she tells us either of something new and commendable, or else 
 about something which. th< /ugh \ye mav perhaps have rend of it before, 
 \ve certainly were not told of it in such a cheerful! fresh and charm- 
 ing way. Everywhere that she went she looked with receptive eyes 
 and listened with receptive ears; hence, that which she tells in the 
 book is as crisp and savory as American celery, j'.s delicious even as an, 
 incomparable s.tlade romaine at Vian's in the'Rue Daunou. 
 
 Thompson. PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS OF SIXTEEN PRESI- 
 DENTS, from Washington to Lincoln. By Colonel Richard 
 W. Thompson, Ex-Secretary of the Navy. In two volumes, 
 cloth, with eighteen full page portraits, net 6 00 
 
 Vawter. OP SUCH Is THE KINGDOM. By Clara Vawter. 
 
 12mo, illustrated 1 25 
 
 A book of stories and rhymes for children. With illustrations from 
 designs by Will Vawter. 
 
 Voorhees. FORTY YEARS OF ORATORY. By Daniel W. Voor- 
 
 hees. Two large volumes, cloth, net 600
 
 000033112 4 
 
 University of California 
 
 SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 
 
 Return this material to the library 
 
 from which it was borrowed. 
 
 REC'D LD-UR 
 
 QL 0011419% 
 
 SEP Z 01996 
 
 i\ir 
 
 WAY 3 2000 
 
 .AM