or
seven years without ever being heard tell of by any white person in the
Colony.

Bigot and Cadet rode rapidly forward until they came to the dark forest,
where the faint outline of road, barely visible, would have perplexed
Bigot to have kept it alone in the night. But Cadet was born in
Charlebourg; he knew every path, glade, and dingle in the forest of
Beaumanoir, and rode on without drawing bridle.

Bigot, in his fiery eagerness, had hitherto ridden foremost. Cadet now
led the way, dashing under the boughs of the great trees that overhung
the road. The tramp of their horses woke the echoes of the woods. But
they were not long in reaching the park of Beaumanoir.

They saw before them the tall chimney-stacks and the high roofs and
the white walls of the Chateau, looking spectral enough in the wan
moonlight,--ghostly, silent, and ominous. One light only was visible in
the porter's lodge; all else was dark, cold, and sepulchral.

The watchful old porter at the gate was instantly on foot to see who
came at that hour, and was surprised enough at sight of his master and
the Sieur Cadet, without retinue or even a groom to accompany them.

They dismounted and tied their horses outside the gate. "Run to the
Chateau, Marcele, without making the least noise," said Bigot. "Call
none of the servants, but rap gently at the door of Dame Tremblay. Bid
her rise instantly, without waking any one. Say the Intendant desires to
see her. I expect guests from the city."

The porter returned with the information that Dame Tremblay had got up
and was ready to receive his Excellency.

Bidding old Marcele take care of the horses, they walked across the
lawn to the Chateau, at the door of which stood Dame Tremblay, hastily
dressed, courtesying and trembling at this sudden summons to receive the
Intendant and Sieur Cadet.

"Good night, dame!" said Bigot, in a low tone, "conduct us instantly to
the grand gallery."

"Oh, your Excellency!" replied the dame, courtesying, "I am your humble
servant at all times, day and night, as it is my duty and my pleasure to
serve my master!"

"Well, then!" returned Bigot, impatiently, "let us go in and make no
noise."

The three, Dame Tremblay leading the way with a candle in each hand,
passed up the broad stair and into the gallery communicating with the
apartments of Caroline. The dame set her candles on the table and stood
with her hands across her apron in a submissive attitude, waiting the
or