arded as the prince of good fellows, and swore by him, profanely
enough, on all occasions, as the shrewdest head and the quickest hand to
turn over money in New France.

Bigot could trust Cadet. He had only to whisper a few words in his ear
to see him jump up from the table where he was playing cards, dash his
stakes with a sweep of his hand into the lap of his antagonist, a gift
or a forfeit, he cared not which, for not finishing the game. In three
minutes Cadet was booted, with his heavy riding-whip in his hand ready
to mount his horse and accompany Bigot "to Beaumanoir or to hell," he
said, "if he wanted to go there."

In the short space of time, while the grooms saddled their horses, Bigot
drew Cadet aside and explained to him the situation of his affairs,
informing him, in a few words, who the lady was who lived in such
retirement in the Chateau, and of his denial of the fact before the
Council and Governor. He told him of the letters of the King and of La
Pompadour respecting Caroline, and of the necessity of removing her at
once far out of reach before the actual search for her was begun.

Cadet's cynical eyes flashed in genuine sympathy with Bigot, and he
laid his heavy hand upon his shoulder and uttered a frank exclamation of
admiration at his ruse to cheat La Pompadour and La Galissoniere both.

"By St. Picot!" said he, "I would rather go without dinner for a month
than you should not have asked me, Bigot, to help you out of this
scrape. What if you did lie to that fly-catching beggar at the Castle
of St. Louis, who has not conscience to take a dishonest stiver from a
cheating Albany Dutchman! Where was the harm in it? Better lie to him
than tell the truth to La Pompadour about that girl! Egad! Madame Fish
would serve you as the Iroquois served my fat clerk at Chouagen--make
roast meat of you--if she knew it! Such a pother about a girl! Damn the
women, always, I say, Bigot! A man is never out of hot water when he has
to do with them!"

Striking Bigot's hand hard with his own, he promised; wet or dry,
through flood or fire, to ride with him to Beaumanoir, and take the
girl, or lady,--he begged the Intendant's pardon,--and by such ways
as he alone knew he would, in two days, place her safely among the
Montagnais, and order them at once, without an hour's delay, to pull up
stakes and remove their wigwams to the tuque of the St. Maurice, where
Satan himself could not find her. And the girl might remain there f