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Updated: June 6, 2025
He dined with high patricians who forgot their political differences, while they agreed in courting the presence of this great benefactor of his country. The fine ladies were as eager in their homage to this real patriot, and he might be seen between rival countesses, who emulated each other in their appreciation of his public services. These were Mr. Vigo's dangerous suitors.
Vigo looked at me as if to demand again which side I was on. "He lay on me, throttling me," I explained. "I stabbed any way I could." "I trow you are a dead man," Vigo told Grammont. "Natheless, here comes the knife." It came, with a great cry from the victim. He fell back against Vigo's man, clapping his hand to his side. "I am done for," he gasped faintly.
But he who has seen service knows how ominous is the gathering of men here and there, the low humming talk, the silence when a dissenter passes. There were fights, too, that had to be quelled by company captains, and no man knew when the loud quarrel between the two races at Vigo's store would grow into an ugly battle. What did Clark intend to do?
For Vigo, the yeoman and servant, never minced words to any man nor swerved from the stark truth. I burned to seize Vigo's arm, to spur him on to speech. Of course he believed M. Étienne; how dared he make his master wait for the assurance? On his knees he should be, imploring M. le Comte's pardon. But no thought of humbling himself troubled Vigo.
As he was led past us, with a sudden frantic effort, fit to dislocate his jaw, he disgorged the gag to cry out wildly: "Oh, M. l'Écuyer, have mercy! Have pity upon me! For Christ's sake, pity!" His bravado had broken down at last. He tried to fling himself at Vigo's feet. The guards relaxed their hold to see him grovel. That was what he had hoped for.
In the first instance, you would be interfering with my experiment, and that would not be fair." This conversation took place in Mr. Vigo's counting-house the morning after the entertainment at his villa. Endymion called upon Mr. Vigo in his way to his office, as he had been requested to do, and Mr.
Monsieur Vigo's clothes were the color of the tobacco he gave in exchange; his eyes were not unlike the black beads he traded, but shrewd and kindly withal, set in a square saffron face that had the contradiction of a small chin. As the days wore into months, Monsieur Vigo's place very naturally became the headquarters for our army, if army it might be called.
"You must change your shoes," he cried eagerly. "Your hobnails spoil all." I put one of his gossip's shoes on the floor beside my foot. "Now, monsieur, I ask you, how am I to get into that?" "Shall I fetch you Vigo's?" he grinned. "No, Constant's," I said instantly, thinking how it would make him writhe to lend them. "Constant's best," he promised, disappearing.
"How can I serve you, messieurs?" "Hain't the Congress got authority here?" said one. "I am happy to say," answered Monsieur Vigo, rubbing his hands, "for I think much of your principle." "Then," said the man, "we come here to trade with Congress money. Hain't that money good in Kaskasky?" There was an anxious pause. Then Monsieur Vigo's eyes twinkled, and he looked at me.
She had inquisitive eyes, a pointed, prying nose, and I knew her to be the village gossip, the wife of Jules, Monsieur Vigo's clerk. She had the same smattering of English as her husband. Now she stood regarding me narrowly between half-closed lids. "A la bonne heure! Que fais-tu donc? What do you do so early?" "The garrison is getting ready to leave for Kentucky to-day," I answered. "Ha! Jules!
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