ieur."

"Regret?" said Cazeneau, in a querulous tone--"regret? Monsieur, one
does not leave a place like Versailles for a place like Louisbourg
without regrets."

"True," said the other, who saw that it was a sore subject.

"With Fleury I had influence; but with the present company at
Versailles, it is--well, different; and I am better here. Out of
sight, out of mind. It was one of Fleury's last acts--this
appointment. I solicited it, for certain reasons; chiefly because I
saw that he could not last long. Well, they'll have enough to think
of without calling me to mind; for, if I'm not mistaken, the Queen of
Hungary will find occupation enough for them."

After some further conversation of this kind, Cazeneau returned to
the subject of Mimi, asking particularly about her life in
Louisbourg, and whether Claude had seen her often. The information
which he received on this point seemed to give him satisfaction.

"Does this young man claim to be a Montresor?" asked the commandant,
"or is he merely interesting himself in the affairs of that family by
way of au intrigue?"

"It is an intrigue," said Cazeneau. "He does not call himself
Montresor openly, but I have reason to know that he is intending to
pass himself off as the son and heir of the Count Eugene, who was
outlawed nearly twenty years ago. Perhaps you have heard of that."

"O, yes; I remember all about that. His wife was a Huguenot, and both
of them got off. His estates were confiscated. It was private enmity,
I believe. Some one got a rich haul. Ha, ha, ha!"

At this Cazeneau's face turned as black as a thundercloud. The
commandant saw that his remark had been an unfortunate one, and
hastened to change the conversation.

"So this young fellow has a plan of that sort, you think. Of course
he's put up by others--some wirepullers behind the scenes. Well, he's
safe enough now, and he has that hanging over him which will put an
end to this scheme, whoever may have started it."

At this Cazeneau recovered his former calmness, and smiled somewhat
grimly.

"I can guess pretty well," said Cazeneau, "how this plot may have
originated. You must know that when the Count de Montresor and his
countess fled, they took with them a servant who had been their
steward. This man's name was Motier. Now, both the count and countess
died shortly after their arrival in America. The countess died first,
somewhere in Canada, and then the count seemed to lose his reason;
for