curse Galissoniere's crooked
neck--could he not have selected a more welcome messenger to send to
Beaumanoir? But I have got his name in my list of debtors, and he shall
pay up one day for his insolence at Louisbourg."

"Tut, tut, shut up your books! you are too mercantile for gentlemen,"
replied Bigot. "The question is, shall we allow Colonel Philibert to
bring his orders into the hall? Par Dieu! we are scarcely presentable!"

But whether presentable or no, the words were scarcely spoken, when,
impatient at the delay, Philibert took advantage of the open door and
entered the great hall. He stood in utter amazement for a moment at the
scene of drunken riot which he beheld. The inflamed faces, the confusion
of tongues, the disorder, filth, and stench of the prolonged debauch
sickened him, while the sight of so many men of rank and high office
revelling at such an hour raised a feeling of indignation which he
had difficulty in keeping down while he delivered his message to the
Intendant.

Bigot, however, was too shrewd to be wanting in politeness. "Welcome,
Colonel Philibert," said he; "you are an unexpected guest, but a welcome
one! Come and taste the hospitality of Beaumanoir before you deliver
your message. Bustle, valets, bring fresh cups and the fullest carafes
for Colonel Philibert."

"Thanks for your politeness, Chevalier! Your Excellency will please
excuse me if I deliver my message at once. My time is not my own
to-day, so I will not sit down. His Excellency the Governor desires your
presence and that of the Royal Commissaries at the council of war this
afternoon. Despatches have just arrived by the Fleur-de-Lis from home,
and the council must assemble at once."

A red flush rested upon the brow of Philibert as in his mind he measured
the important business of the council with the fitness of the men whom
he summoned to attend it. He declined the offer of wine, and stepped
backward from the table, with a bow to the Intendant and the company,
and was about to depart, when a loud voice on the further side of the
table cried out,--

"It is he, by all that is sacred! Pierre Philibert! wait!" Le Gardeur
de Repentigny rushed like a storm through the hall, upsetting chairs
and guests in his advance. He ran towards Colonel Philibert, who, not
recognizing the flushed face and disordered figure that greeted him,
shrank back from his embrace.

"My God! do you not know me, Pierre?" exclaimed Le Gardeur, wounded
to th