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Updated: June 21, 2025
He would not know me for the man he was seeking. I waited for him to ask my name, and selected one to give him that was my own and yet was not M. de Montlivet. Since names cannot be sold nor squandered, my father had bequeathed me a plethora of them. But I credited the Englishman with too little acuteness. He stepped forward. "This is Monsieur de Montlivet?"
"Madame de Montlivet, what right have I to be carrying another woman's miniature? I shall write the fact of my marriage to Madame Bertheau, and the matter will be closed. No, the Indians did not take the miniature. I buried it in the woods." "Monsieur, that was not necessary!" "I thought that it was, madame." She stood with a chair between us.
He is best out of the way, and, though I see nothing to mistrust in the man, I shall feel better if he goes east while the Senecas go west." "How will you send him?" "To Montreal with an escort of Ottawas. From there he can make his own way." I looked down. "Madame de Montlivet may wish to go at the same time. You must arrange for her also if she wishes." Cadillac shrugged.
What is the west? You said you said that I had to die." I felt unsteady, and ill at ease. "Let us discuss this like sane men!" I exclaimed, angry at myself. "You jump at conclusions. That is a woman's foible. Who am I? A trader, Armand de Montlivet, from Montreal. I am going west for peltries. It will be a hard trip, and you will suffer; but it is your only chance.
The awe and the wonder were still there, and her fingers were unsteady under mine. I dropped to my knees. "I have done more than you saw," I said, with my eyes on hers. "I have talked with Onanguissé, and have smoked a full pipe with the old men in council. Thank you for your interest. Thank you, Madame de Montlivet." But she would not look at me bent before her.
"Well, Madame Montlivet," I said, with a bow, "what shall we do about Monsieur Cadillac's letter?" There was laughter in my voice, and it confused her. "What shall we do?" she echoed doubtfully. "Did you mean to say 'we'?" I bowed again. "'We' assuredly. It must be a joint decision. Come, it is for you to declare your mind.
I looked off at the piling thundercaps and the ruffling water, and the exhilaration of the coming storm whipped through me. There was a pleasant tang to life. "Read it, yes," I insisted. "You are Madame de Montlivet. No one can have a better right. Read it after we land." It took some moments to make a landing, for the waves were already high and the shore rough.
I have cursed myself for that ever since. Cadillac stopped. "Are you there, Montlivet?" he called. "When you are at leisure, come to my room." I heard his step retreat. And then I turned to the woman. But with Cadillac's voice a change had come. My mind was again heavy with anxiety. I remembered the thronging Indians without, the pressing responsibilities within. I remembered the volcano under us.
Montlivet, tell me. What have you been doing in the west?" I had expected him to finesse to this question. I liked it that he gave it to me with a naked blade. "I have been forming an Indian league," I answered bluntly. He nodded. "I know. There have been rumors. Then I knew what you did with the St. Lawrence tribes last year. Why did you not tell me when you went through here last spring?"
But Cadillac would not hasten. He gave me the long estimating glance that I had seen him use once before. "Montlivet," he said, with his arm across my shoulder, "you are doing a great thing; a great thing for France. No man could serve his country more fully than you are doing at this moment. It is an obscure deed, but a momentous one.
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