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"These are, to leave your Majesty," replied Crevecoeur, "undisputed possession of your own apartments. Such are my master's orders." "Your Master, Count," answered Louis, "whom I may also term mine, is a right gracious master.
"You are striving again to disturb my patience," said Crevecoeur, "but I will not give you that advantage over me. -Hark! they toll the summons to the Castle an awful meeting, of which God only can foretell the issue."
The young lady did not chide him perhaps there was no time; for Crevecoeur and Crawford, who had been from some loophole eye witnesses if not ear witnesses, also, of what was passing, rushed into the apartment, the first in a towering passion, the latter laughing, and holding the Count back.
"Nay, but if it please your Grace," said Crevecoeur and D'Hymbercourt together, "he is a herald, and so far privileged." "It is you, Messires," replied the Duke, "who are such owls as to think that the tabard makes the herald. I see by that fellow's blazoning he is a mere impostor. Let Toison d'Or step forward, and question him in your presence."
The Countess of Crevecoeur gravely rebuked her husband for his violence. "The Lady," she said, "must have been deceived by De la Marck with a show of courtesy." "He show courtesy!" said the Count. "I acquit him of all such dissimulation. You may as well expect courtesy from a literal wild boar, you may as well try to lay leaf gold on old rusty gibbet irons.
"The nankeen colored one," spoke up again the bell-like and inexorable voice from the other window, "is a yellow Crèvecoeur, very well formed and lively-looking: the slate-colored one is a Cochin-China, with only a few of the white feathers lacking from the head. They are chef-d'oeuvres, and are worth fully forty francs apiece."
But, although it is only the voice of Philip Crevecoeur de Cordes which speaks, the words which he utters must be those of his gracious Lord and Sovereign, the Duke of Burgundy." "And what has Crevecoeur to say in the words of Burgundy?" said Louis, with an assumption of sufficient dignity.
"Sire," replied the ambassador, "the Count of Crevecoeur must lament his misfortune, and entreat your forgiveness, that he cannot, on this occasion, reply with such humble deference as is due to the royal courtesy with which your Majesty has honoured him.
The dispersion of the garrison, and the destruction of all the works commenced and the stores deposited at Crèvecoeur, was another blow upon the head and the heart of La Salle, apparently frustrating all his plans. He must have experienced emotions of the keenest anguish.
But its attraction seems not to be less despite this experience, for he was setting forth again, when word came to him that his Fort Crevecoeur had been destroyed, most of his men deserting and throwing into the river the stores and goods they could not carry away! All has to be begun again. Less than nothing is left to him of all his capital.
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