him. He drank with all, and drank every description of
liquor. He was speedily led up into a large, well-furnished room, where
tables were crowded with gentlemen playing cards and dice for piles
of paper money, which was tossed from hand to hand with the greatest
nonchalance as the game ended and was renewed.

Le Gardeur plunged headlong into the flood of dissipation. He played,
drank, talked argot, and cast off every shred of reserve. He doubled his
stakes, and threw his dice reckless and careless whether he lost or won.
His voice overbore that of the stoutest of the revellers. He embraced De
Pean as his friend, who returned his compliments by declaring Le Gardeur
de Repentigny to be the king of good fellows, who had the "strongest
head to carry wine and the stoutest heart to defy dull care of any man
in Quebec."

De Pean watched with malign satisfaction the progress of Le Gardeur's
intoxication. If he seemed to flag, he challenged him afresh to drink to
better fortune; and when he lost the stakes, to drink again to spite ill
luck.

But let a veil be dropped over the wild doings of the Taverne de Menut.
Le Gardeur lay insensible at last upon the floor, where he would have
remained had not some of the servants of the inn who knew him lifted him
up compassionately and placed him upon a couch, where he lay, breathing
heavily like one dying. His eyes were fixed; his mouth, where the kisses
of his sister still lingered, was partly opened, and his hands were
clenched, rigid as a statue's.

"He is ours now!" said De Pean to Cadet. "He will not again put his head
under the wing of the Philiberts!"

The two men looked at him, and laughed brutally.

"A fair lady whom you know, Cadet, has given him liberty to drink
himself to death, and he will do it."

"Who is that? Angelique?" asked Cadet.

"Of course; who else? and Le Gardeur won't be the first or last man
she has put under stone sheets," replied De Pean, with a shrug of his
shoulders.

"Gloria patri filioque!" exclaimed Cadet, mockingly; "the Honnetes Gens
will lose their trump card. How did you get him away from Belmont, De
Pean?"

"Oh, it was not I! Angelique des Meloises set the trap and whistled the
call that brought him," replied De Pean.

"Like her, the incomparable witch!" exclaimed Cadet with a hearty laugh.
"She would lure the very devil to play her tricks instead of his own.
She would beat Satan at his best game to ruin a man."

"It would be all the