The loud knocking of Philibert in the great hall reverberated again and again through the house. Bigot bade the valets go see who disturbed the Château in that bold style. “Let no one in!” added he “'tis against the rule to open the doors when the Grand Company are met for business! Take whips, valets, and scourge the insolent beggars away. Some miserable habitans, I warrant, whining for the loss of their eggs and bacon taken by the King's purveyors!” A servant returned with a card on a silver salver. “An officer in uniform waits to see your Excellency: he brings orders from the Governor,” said he to the Intendant. Bigot looked at the card with knitted brows; fire sparkled in his eyes as he read the name. “Colonel Philibert!” exclaimed he, “Aide-de-Camp of the Governor! What the fiend brings HIM at such a time? Do you hear?” continued he, turning to Varin. “It is your friend from Louisbourg, who was going to put you in irons, and send you to France for trial when the mutinous garrison threatened to surrender the place if we did not pay them.” Varin was not so intoxicated but the name of Philibert roused his anger. He set his cup down with a bang upon the table. “I will not taste a drop more till he is gone,” said he; “curse Galissonière's crooked neck--could he not have selected a more welcome messenger to send to Beaumanoir? But I have got his name in my list of debtors, and he shall pay up one day for his insolence at Louisbourg.” “Tut, tut, shut up your books! you are too mercantile for gentlemen,” replied Bigot. “The question is, shall we allow Colonel Philibert to bring his orders into the hall? Par Dieu! we are scarcely presentable!” But whether presentable or no, the words were scarcely spoken, when, impatient at the delay, Philibert took advantage of the open door and entered the great hall. He stood in utter amazement for a moment at the scene of drunken riot which he beheld. The inflamed faces, the confusion of tongues, the disorder, filth, and stench of the prolonged debauch sickened him, while the sight of so many men of rank and high office revelling at such an hour raised a feeling of indignation which he had difficulty in keeping down while he delivered his message to the Intendant. Bigot, however, was too shrewd to be wanting in politeness. “Welcome, Colonel Philibert,” said he; “you are an unexpected guest, but a welcome one! Come and taste the hospitality of Beaumanoir before you deliver your message. Bustle, valets, bring fresh cups and the fullest carafes for Colonel Philibert.” “Thanks for your politeness, Chevalier! Your Excellency will please excuse me if I deliver my message at once. My time is not my own to-day, so I will not sit down. His Excellency the Governor desires your presence and that of the Royal Commissaries at the council of war this afternoon. Despatches have just arrived by the Fleur-de-Lis from home, and the council must assemble at once.”