"Pardon me, Mademoiselle; it is no proposal of mine,--on behalf of Le Gardeur. I sanctioned his promotion. Your brother, and the Grand Company generally, would prefer the alliance. I don't!" He said this with a tone of meaning which Angelique was acute enough to see implied Bigot's unwillingness to her marrying any man--but himself, was the addendum she at once placed to his credit. "I regret I mentioned it," continued he, blandly, "if it be contrary to your wishes."
"It is contrary to my wishes," replied she, relaxing her clutch of his arm. "Le Gardeur de Repentigny can speak for himself. I will not allow even my brother to suggest it; still less will I discuss such a subject with the Chevalier Bigot."
"I hope you will pardon me, Mademoiselle--I will not call you Angelique until you are pleased with me again. To be sure, I should never have forgiven you had you conformed to your brother's wishes.
It was what I feared might happen, and I--I wished to try you; that was all!"
"It is dangerous trying me, Chevalier," replied she, resuming her seat with some heat. "Don't try me again, or I shall take Le Gardeur out of pure SPITE," she said. Pure love was in her mind, but the other word came from her lips. "I will do all I can to rescue him from the Honnetes Gens, but not by marrying him, Chevalier,--at present."
They seemed to understand each other fully. "It is over with now," said Bigot. "I swear to you, Angelique, I did not mean to offend you,--you cut deep."
"Pshaw!" retorted she, smiling. "Wounds by a lady are easily cured: they seldom leave a mark behind, a month after."
"I don't know that. The slight repulse of a lady's finger--a touch that would not crush a gnat--will sometimes kill a strong man like a sword-stroke. I have known such things to happen," said Bigot.
"Well, happily, my touch has not hurt you, Chevalier. But, having vindicated myself, I feel I owe you reparation. You speak of rescuing Le Gardeur from the Honnetes Gens. In what way can I aid you?"
"In many ways and all ways. Withdraw him from them. The great festival at the Philiberts--when is it to be?"
"To-morrow! See, they have honored me with a special invitation."
She drew a note from her pocket. "This is very polite of Colonel Philibert, is it not?" said she.
Bigot glanced superciliously at the note. "Do you mean to go, Angelique?" asked he.
"No; although, had I no feelings but my own to consult, I would certainly go."
"Whose feelings do you consult, Angelique," asked the Intendant, "if not your own?"
"Oh, don't be flattered,--the Grand Company's! I am loyal to the association without respect to persons."
"So much the better," said he. "By the way, it would not be amiss to keep Le Gardeur away from the festival. These Philiberts and the heads of the Honnetes Gens have great sway over him."
"Naturally; they are all his own kith and kin. But I will draw him away, if you desire it. I cannot prevent his going, but I can find means to prevent his staying!" added she, with a smile of confidence in her power.
"That will do, Angelique,--anything to make a breach between them!"
While there were abysses in Bigot's mind which Angelique could not fathom, as little did Bigot suspect that, when Angelique seemed to flatter him by yielding to his suggestions, she was following out a course she had already decided upon in her own mind from the moment she had learned that Cecile Tourangeau was to be at the festival of Belmont, with unlimited opportunities of explanation with Le Gardeur as to her treatment by Angelique.
The Intendant, after some pleasant badinage, rose and took his departure, leaving Angelique agitated, puzzled, and dissatisfied, on the whole, with his visit. She reclined on the seat, resting her head on her hand for a long time,--in appearance the idlest, in reality the busiest, brain of any girl in the city of Quebec. She felt she had much to do,--a great sacrifice to make,--but firmly resolved, at whatever cost, to go through with it; for, after all, the sacrifice was for herself, and not for others.
