De Beauce was irritated at the mocking sign and the proverbial allusion to the gaping of the people of Beauce. He started up in wrath, and striking his fist on the table, "Monsieur Varin!" cried he, "do not cross your thumbs at me, or I will cut them off! Let me tell you the gentlemen of Beauce do not breakfast on gaping, but have plenty of corn to stuff even a Commissary of Montreal!"
The Sieur Le Mercier, at a sign from Bigot, interposed to stop the rising quarrel. "Don't mind Varin," said he, whispering to De Beauce; "he is drunk, and a row will anger the Intendant. Wait, and by and by you shall toast Varin as the chief baker of Pharoah, who got hanged because he stole the King's corn."
"As he deserves to be, for his insult to the gentlemen of Beauce," insinuated Bigot, leaning over to his angry guest, at the same time winking good-humoredly to Varin. "Come, now, De Beauce, friends all, amantium irae, you know--which is Latin for love--and I will sing you a stave in praise of this good wine, which is better than Bacchus ever drank." The Intendant rose up, and holding a brimming glass in his hand, chanted in full, musical voice a favorite ditty of the day, as a ready mode of restoring harmony among the company:
"'Amis! dans ma bouteille, Voila le vin de France!
C'est le bon vin qui danse ici, C'est le bon vin qui danse.
Gai lon la!
Vive la lirette!
Des Filettes Il y en aura!'
Vivent les Filettes! The girls of Quebec--first in beauty, last in love, and nowhere in scorn of a gallant worthy of them!" continued Bigot. "What say you, De Pean? Are you not prepared to toast the belles of Quebec?"
"That I am, your Excellency!" De Pean was unsteady upon his feet, as he rose to respond to the Intendant's challenge. He pot- valiantly drew his sword, and laid it on the table. "I will call on the honorable company to drink this toast on their knees, and there is my sword to cut the legs off any gentleman who will not kneel down and drink a full cup to the bright eyes of the belle of Quebec--The incomparable Angelique des Meloises!"
The toast suited their mood. Every one filled up his cup in honor of a beauty so universally admired.
"Kneel down, all," cried the Intendant, "or De Pean will hamstring us!" All knelt down with a clash--some of them unable to rise again. "We will drink to the Angelique charms of the fair Des Meloises. Come now, all together!--as the jolly Dutchmen of Albany say, 'Upp seys over!'"
Such of the company as were able resumed their seats amid great laughter and confusion, when the Sieur Deschenaux, a reckless young gallant, ablaze with wine and excitement, stood up, leaning against the table. His fingers dabbled in his wine-cup as he addressed them, but he did not notice it.
"We have drunk with all the honors," said he, "to the bright eyes of the belle of Quebec. I call on every gentleman now, to drink to the still brighter eyes of the belle of New France!"
"Who is she? Name! name!" shouted a dozen voices; "who is the belle of New France?"
"Who is she? Why, who can she be but the fair Angelique, whom we have just honored?" replied De Pean, hotly, jealous of any precedence in that quarter.
"Tut!" cried Deschenaux, "you compare glowworms with evening stars, when you pretend to match Angelique des Meloises with the lady I propose to honor! I call for full brimmers--cardinal's hats--in honor of the belle of New France--the fair Amelie de Repentigny!"
Le Gardeur de Repentigny was sitting leaning on his elbow, his face beaming with jollity, as he waited, with a full cup, for Deschenaux's toast. But no sooner did he hear the name of his sister from those lips than he sprang up as though a serpent had bit him. He hurled his goblet at the head of Deschenaux with a fierce imprecation, and drew his sword as he rushed towards him.
"A thousand lightnings strike you! How dare you pollute that holy name, Deschenaux? Retract that toast instantly, or you shall drink it in blood--retract, I say!"
The guests rose to their feet in terrible uproar. Le Gardeur struggled violently to break through a number of those who interposed between him and Deschenaux, who, roused to frenzy by the insult from Le Gardeur, had also drawn his sword, and stood ready to receive the assault of his antagonist.
The Intendant, whose courage and presence of mind never forsook him, pulled Deschenaux down upon his seat and held fast his sword arm, shouting in his ear,--"Are you mad, Deschenaux? You knew she was his sister, and how he worships her! Retract the toast--it was inopportune! Besides, recollect we want to win over De Repentigny to the Grand Company!"
Deschenaux struggled for a minute, but the influence of the Intendant was all-powerful over him. He gave way. "Damn De Repentigny," said he, "I only meant to do honor to the pretty witch.
Who would have expected him to take it up in that manner?"
"Any one who knows him; besides," continued the Intendant, "if you must toast his sister, wait till we get him body and soul made over to the Grand Company, and then he will care no more for his sister's fame than you do for yours."
"But the insult! He has drawn blood with the goblet," said Deschenaux, wiping his forehead with his fingers; "I cannot pardon that!"
"Tut, tut; fight him another day. But you shall not fight here!
Cadet and Le Mercier have pinned the young Bayard, I see; so you have a chance to do the honorable; Deschenaux; go to him, retract the toast, and say you had forgotten the fair lady was his sister."
Deschenaux swallowed his wrath, rose up, and sheathed his sword.
Taking the Intendant by the arm, he went up to Le Gardeur, who was still trying to advance. Deschenaux held up his hand deprecatingly.
"Le Gardeur," said he, with an air of apparent contrition, "I was wrong to offer that toast. I had forgotten the fair lady was your sister. I retract the toast, since it is disagreeable to you, although all would have been proud to drink it."
Le Gardeur was as hard to appease as he was easy to excite to anger.
He still held his drawn sword in his hand.
