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This must have been the way it happened Chevet had made some bitter enemy, for he was ever prodigal of angry word and blow, and the fellow had followed him through the night to strike him down from behind. But why did De Artigny fail to sound an alarm when he found the body? Why was he hiding about the mission house, and peering in through the window?
Read it, Monsieur." He did so slowly, carefully, seeming to weigh every word, his eyes darkening, and a flush creeping into his swarthy cheeks. "Madame," he exclaimed at last. "I care not whether the man be your husband, but this is a damnable conspiracy, hatched months ago in Quebec." I bowed my head. "Beyond doubt, Monsieur." "And you found nothing more? no documents taken from Hugo Chevet?"
I do not love the man, his very presence maddens me, nor has the creature dared as yet to lay hand on my person. See; I carry this," and I drew the pistol from my dress, and held it in my hand. "Chevet loaned it me, and Cassion knows I would kill him if he ventured insult. Yet that serves me little, for my opposition only renders the man more determined.
'Tis your own confession that your hand has been pledged to Monsieur Cassion." "By Hugo Chevet, not myself." "Without objection on your part." He glanced up slyly. "Perchance this was before the appearance of another lover, the Sieur de Artigny." I felt the color flood my cheeks, yet from indignation rather than embarrassment.
But the crowning triumph of the evening was the appearance of a huge piece of Gruyere cheese, which at that time was not to be seen in a single shop in Paris. Even Chevet, that renowned purveyor of dainties, had declared that he had none. My surprise in presence of the cheese and the potatoes being evident, Blanchard's brother-in-law blandly informed me that he had stolen them.
Yet when he finally chose me as his comrade on this last journey, while I would have followed him gladly even to death, the one hope which held me to the hardships of the trail, was the chance thus given of seeking you myself." "It was I you sought then at the home of Hugo Chevet? not service under Francois Cassion? Yet, when we met, you knew me not." "Nay; I had no thought that you were there.
"I have been to the mouth of the Great River." "You!" in surprise. "Were you of that party?" "Yes, Monsieur." "And you actually reached the sea the salt water?" "Yes, Monsieur." "Saint Anne! I never half believed the tale true, nor do I think overmuch of your word for it. But let that go. Chevet here tells me you know a shorter journey to the Illinois?" "Not by canoe, Monsieur.
The choir, which now dates from 1322, perforce looks unduly short, by reason of the absence of a nave to add to the effect of horizontal stability; and the great height of the adjoining transept; but the chevet and buttresses are certainly a marvel of grace and towering forms.
As in most French Gothic buildings, the choir terminates in a round apse, whereas English cathedrals have usually a square end. The beautiful light fleche or spire in the center has been restored. Observe the graceful leaden angel, holding a cross, on the summit of the chevet or round apse. The Crown of Thorns surrounds the two pinnacles which flank the fourth story.
I overheard talk last night between the Governor and his aide-de-camp, Colonel Delguard you know him?" Chevet nodded, his interest stirred. "They thought themselves alone, and were laughing at the success of their trick. I was hidden behind the heavy curtains at the window, and every word they spoke reached my ears. Then they sent for Cassion." "But where is the paper?"
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