Our eyes met, and his were kind and smiling, with a confidence in their depths that strangely heartened me. Before I realized the action I had given him my hand. "I do, Monsieur, and question no more, though I pray for peace between you. Our time is up, Sister?" "Yes, my child," she stood in the doorway, appearing like some saintly image. "The Mother sent me." De Artigny released my hand, and bowed low. "I still rely upon your attendance at the ball?" he asked, lingering at the door. "Yes, Monsieur." "And may bespeak a dance?" "I cannot say no, although it may cost you dear." He laughed gaily, his eyes bright with merriment. "Faith! most pleasures do I find; the world would be dull enough otherwise. Till then, Mademoiselle, adieu." We heard his quick step ring on the stone of the passage, and Celeste smiled, her hand on mine. "A lad of spirit that. The Sieur de la Salle picks his followers well, and knows loyal hearts. The De Artignys never fail." "You know of them, Sister?" "I knew his father," she answered, half ashamed already of her impulse, "a gallant man. But come, the Mother would have you visit her." CHAPTER IV IN THE PALACE OF THE INTENDANT The huge palace of the Intendant, between the bluff and the river, was ablaze with lights, and already crowded with guests at our arrival. I had seen nothing of Chevet since the morning, nor did he appear now; but Monsieur Cassion was prompt enough, and congratulated me on my appearance with bows, and words of praise which made me flush with embarrassment. Yet I knew myself that I looked well in the new gown, simple enough to be sure, yet prettily draped, for Sister Celeste had helped me, and 'twas whispered she had seen fine things in Europe before she donned the sober habit of a nun. She loved yet to dress another, and her swift touches to my hair had worked a miracle. I read admiration in Cassion's eyes, as I came forward from the shadows to greet him, and was not unhappy to know he recognized my beauty, and was moved by it. Yet it was not of him I thought, but Rene de Artigny. There was a chair without, and bearers, while two soldiers of the Regiment of Picardy, held torches to light the way, and open passage. Cassion walked beside me, his tongue never still, yet I was too greatly interested in the scene to care what he was saying, although I knew it to be mostly compliment. It was a steep descent, the stones of the roadway wet and glistening from a recent shower, and the ceaseless stream of people, mostly denizens of Quebec, peered at us curiously as we made slow progress. Great bonfires glowed from every high point of the cliff, their red glare supplementing our torches, and bringing out passing faces in odd distinctness.