eve of starting, and
Perrot's men were ready at his bidding without why or wherefore. Indeed,
when the Maid of Provence left the island of Orleans, her nose seawards,
one fine July morning, the only persons in Quebec that knew her
destination were the priest who had brought Iberville the chart of the
river, with its accurate location of the sunken galleon, Iberville's
brothers, and Count Frontenac himself--returned again as governor.

"See, Monsieur Iberville," said the governor, as, with a fine show
of compliment, in full martial dress, with his officers in gold lace,
perukes, powder, swords, and ribbons, he bade Iberville good-bye--"See,
my dear captain, that you find the treasure, or make these greedy
English pay dear for it. They have a long start, but that is nothing,
with a ship under you that can show its heels to any craft. I care not
so much about the treasure, but I pray you humble those dull Puritans,
who turn buccaneers in the name of the Lord."

Iberville made a gallant reply, and, with Sainte-Helene, received a
hearty farewell from the old soldier, who, now over seventy years of
age, was as full of spirit as when he distinguished himself at Arras
fifty years before. In Iberville he saw his own youth renewed, and
foretold the high part he would yet play in the fortunes of New France.
Iberville had got to the door and was bowing himself out when, with
a quick gesture, Frontenac stopped him, stepped quickly forward, and
clasping his shoulders kissed him on each cheek, and said in a deep,
kind voice: "I know, mon enfant, what lies behind this. A man pays the
price one time or another: he draws his sword for his mistress and his
king; both forget, but one's country remains--remains."

Iberville said nothing, but with an admiring glance into the aged,
iron face, stooped and kissed Frontenac's hand and withdrew silently.
Frontenac, proud, impatient, tyrannical, was the one man in New France
who had a powerful idea of the future of the country, and who loved her
and his king by the law of a loyal nature. Like Wolsey, he had found his
king ungrateful, and had stood almost alone in Canada among his enemies,
as at Versailles among his traducers--imperious, unyielding, and yet
forgiving. Married, too, at an early age, his young wife, caring little
for the duties of maternity and more eager to serve her own ambitions
than his, left him that she might share the fortunes of Mademoiselle de
Montpensier.

Iberville ha