Chapter 39

THE MARQUIS'S VISITOR

On the very day after the Panet documents were added to the Record a visitor called upon the Marquis.

"The 25th of January," records the latter in his journal, "there entered my apartments, about half-past ten in the morning, a young man, wearing a sword and a hat with a white plume, his suit entirely of black knitcloth with trimmings to match, of middle height, firmly built and well-looking, skin fine with plenty of colour, eye nearly black, soft and somewhat large, surmounted by a black eyebrow."

"My name is Monsieur de la Louvière, Gendarme of the Guard," he said. "I come on the part of the Chevalier de Bailleul respecting the matter of Monsieur LeCour."

"Be seated, sir," replied the Marquis with interest, indicating a chair near his writing-desk, at which he himself sat down. "Is this Lecour known to yourself?"

"I am a friend of his," replied M. de la Louvière.

"Where is he now?"

"A week ago he was in England."

"Have you not heard that he is an impostor?"

"I only know, sir, that he is a very unfortunate man, and that you, who have so interested yourself against him, have only to show him leniency and kindness and you would be surprised at his gratitude. I carry the appeal of the Chevalier to you, desirous of seeing whether the trouble cannot be amicably arranged."

"Tell the Chevalier de Bailleul, sir, that all who bear the name of Canadian have a claim upon my good nature, particularly any son of a servant once in my employ. I shall oppose him no further, provided he but at once replace himself in his own rank. I only, secondly, exact that the honour of Monsieur de Léry, as the nephew of Madame my wife, be completely cleared and sustained with his comrades and officers." The Marquis here noticed that the Record was lying upon the table under the eyes of the stranger, but the latter continued the conversation.

"That can be done. But it ought to be so arranged as not to interfere with the standing, for the present, of Monsieur Lecour, because, Monsieur le Marquis, one of his protectors, the Duc de Liancourt, has arranged to bestow on him the commandancy of his cadet institute in the provinces."

"An infinitely better position for him than remaining in the company of Noailles," remarked de Lotbinière, removing the Record from the table, "seeing the Bodyguards have caught the rumour of his birth."

"But it is a part of the arrangement that he should stay in the Bodyguard eighteen months longer."

"Why should such a person be so much considered? Monsieur de Léry has done nothing more than tell the exact truth, which is the duty of a man of honour when pressed by his superiors. He has been most properly avenged; I see nothing left to arrange."

"But he would be still exposed to a challenge to fight."

"His officers have forbidden him to fight with an inferior."

"There remains the certainty of a caning."

"What do you wish to be done?"

"That Monsieur de Léry should merely say off hand before his friends that what he had told of Monsieur Lecour was said at hazard."

"Then, sir, tell the Chevalier de Bailleul that when I said I was willing to arrange that affair amicably I did not know that he would dare to propose that I commence by consenting to the formal and complete dishonour of Monsieur de Léry. Judge, now, whether a proposal of the sort could be made to me about the cousin-germain of my children?"

"Excuse me, Marquis, this was not exactly my meaning, nor that of Monsieur de Bailleul."

"Inform Monsieur de Bailleul," cried de Lotbinière, "that he must feel it impossible, and that all is finished and over by the orders given to each of them by their respective adjutants."

"No, sir," the stranger sternly cried, in reply, "all is _not_ finished, for so unpardonable have been the offences of Monsieur de Léry towards Monsieur Lecour that _only one of them must live_."

"Then let him kill Lecour instead of some one of his comrades, who would make life intolerable to him were he to show himself such a coward as you have proposed. Has he not proved a brave man to have fought so often, and with that fellow so below his dignity? As for me, knowing what I owe to myself, I should refuse most scrupulously to compromise myself with any one who was not of my station. Were I attacked in a street by such a man, I should defend my life with the greatest spirit; but never under the arrangements of an affair _en règle_. Such has always been my way of conduct, according to the truest principles of honour."

"Of honour!" the stranger exclaimed sarcastically; "and who taught de Léry to apply these principles to a fellow Bodyguard?"

"He acted, as I have said, under the advice of his superior officers, especially of Monsieur de Villerai, who is his relative, and a Canadian gentleman of distinguished ancestry."

"Ancestry! de Villerai of distinguished ancestry! This, then, is the man who has undertaken to crush my friend Lecour on the question of extraction! All the world knows that his paternal uncle, of the same name as he, is a common carter in Quebec, and his children in the last ditch of squalor and degradation."

De Lotbinière's countenance changed as quickly as though he had been stabbed.

"To the sorrow of his family, you speak but too truly, although the father was educated very differently. His misfortune was to have married a fool, who supposed herself obliged, as the wife of a gentleman, to dissipate their substance in innumerable petty entertainments; but from this the only rightful conclusion to be drawn is that that branch has derogated from _noblesse_, and can no longer pretend to enjoy for the future the state of its ancestors. But Monsieur Lecour must know well that, as for the branch of the Chevalier de Villerai, the further back you go in his family tree in Canada the more brightly his _noblesse_ stands forth in splendour."

"His grandfather," the stranger retorted scornfully, "was a runaway bankrupt out of the prison of Rouen. And who is this de Léry? His father, during the siege of Quebec, instead of confronting the enemy, went buying up cattle in the parishes to sell over again to the commissariat at the expense of the misery of an expiring people."

"Who told you that?" cried de Lotbinière in a passion. "Who is the author of such an infamy? I have heard that story told of Monsieur de Lanaudière, but it is as false of one as of the other. It was to Captain de Lanaudière that the compulsion of farmers to bring in provisions was entrusted, but even he went out as an officer doing duty, and never as a trader in beef. Lies, all lies!"

"Let that pass, then," said the unknown Gendarme of the Guard; "but though I can understand de Léry's reporting to his superior on being pressed for information, it was nothing less than ignoble and disgusting of him to have spread these tales concerning my friend among his comrades."

"What!" returned de Lotbinière, "when Lecour was wearing the name of his uncle!"

"If he wore it he did not seek it; it was his companions who gave it to him."

"To have worn it at all, sir, admits of no excuses."

"It was never dishonoured by him; it suffered in nothing."

"That may be, but it does not destroy in the slightest this most sacred principle of society, that each one carry his true name and not that of another."

The stranger lost patience.

"Eh, but, sir," he cried, "this name is not so precious! This name is not so precious, I say, after the adventure of the eldest of the family, who was hung in effigy in that country for having assassinated a worthy citizen of Quebec on his doorstep at the entrance to the Upper Town. And my friend Lecour possesses the proofs of it. It was Panet who was the judge that condemned him for the assassination and ordered him hanged in effigy."

"Hold," returned the Marquis, "Panet the judge? Does your friend not know that Monsieur Panet was only a simple attorney in the days of the French _régime_? I see that you are very badly informed. He of whom you speak was my best friend from childhood, and without question one of the most estimable men Canada ever produced. This is what befell: His quarters as an officer were given him upon Philibert, a man who, having kept a bakery, furnished the King's store with bread for the soldiers at Quebec, whence he grew to look upon himself as the King's _munitionnaire_, and exempt from providing quarters. Monsieur de Répentigny presents his order for lodgings. Philibert refuses. Répentigny replies, 'This must be settled either with the Lieutenant-General, whose written order this is, or with the Intendant--but I must be lodged either by you or by some one else.' Philibert, who was a brute, and filled himself with wine at every meal, goes after his dinner and insults the Intendant, who threatens him with prison unless he arranges for Monsieur de Répentigny. The man, leaving there, rushes, drunk with anger and wine, to Monsieur de Répentigny, whom he covers with the most insolent and revolting expressions. Répentigny turns him out of his chamber. Philibert, continuing his outrageous shouts, ends by delivering the officer a violent stroke of his cane. Monsieur de Répentigny then, as one might well do on such sudden pain and provocation, drew out his sword and ran him through the body, so that he died a couple of days afterwards. That, sir, is your assassination without cause! Then the Sovereign Court of course was obliged to order his decapitation in effigy--not his hanging, as you say; and such is the measure of truth in the information which is given you by that young man on the occurrences of his native colony."

The Marquis's voice having risen in a towering fury, it was impossible to say any more to him, and the Gendarme of the Guard, with a smile, rose and bowed himself out. Immediately after his departure, the Marquis uttered a sudden exclamation.

He hastened to the lodging of his nephew, and asked him, in great excitement, what was the personal appearance of Lecour. By close comparison he arrived at the confirmation of his suspicion--that his visitor had been none other than the adventurer himself.