“Colonel Philibert too! he shares in the sentiments of your aunt and sister, to say nothing of the standing hostility of his father, the Bourgeois,” continued Angélique, provoked at Le Gardeur's want of adhesion. “Pierre Philibert! He may not like the Intendant: he has reason for not doing so; but I stake my life upon his honor--he will never be unjust towards the Intendant or any man.” Le Gardeur could not be drawn into a censure of his friend. Angélique shielded adroitly the stiletto of innuendo she had drawn. “You say right,” said she, craftily; “Pierre Philibert is a gentleman worthy of your regard. I confess I have seen no handsomer man in New France. I have been dreaming of one like him all my life! What a pity I saw you first, Le Gardeur!” added she, pulling him by the hair. “I doubt you would throw me to the fishes were Pierre my rival, Angélique,” replied he, merrily; “but I am in no danger: Pierre's affections are, I fancy, forestalled in a quarter where I need not be jealous of his success.” “I shall at any rate not be jealous of your sister, Le Gardeur,” said Angélique, raising her face to his, suffused with a blush; “if I do not give you the love you ask for it is because you have it already; but ask no more at present from me--this, at least, is yours,” said she, kissing him twice, without prudery or hesitation. That kiss from those adored lips sealed his fate. It was the first--better it had been the last, better he had never been born than have drank the poison of her lips. “Now answer me my questions, Le Gardeur,” added she, after a pause of soft blandishments. Le Gardeur felt her fingers playing with his hair, as, like Delilah, she cut off the seven locks of his strength. “There is a lady at Beaumanoir; tell me who and what she is, Le Gardeur,” said she. He would not have hesitated to betray the gate of Heaven at her prayer; but, as it happened, Le Gardeur could not give her the special information she wanted as to the particular relation in which that lady stood to the Intendant. Angélique with wonderful coolness talked away, and laughed at the idea of the Intendant's gallantry. But she could get no confirmation of her suspicions from Le Gardeur. Her inquiry was for the present a failure, but she made Le Gardeur promise to learn what he could and tell her the result of his inquiries. They sat long conversing together, until the bell of the Recollets sounded the hour of midnight. Angélique looked in the face of Le Gardeur with a meaning smile, as she counted each stroke with her dainty finger on his cheek. When finished, she sprang up and looked out of the lattice at the summer night.