[Illustration: "The Vicomte bowed jestingly.">[
The Chevalier, who had followed each stroke with feverish eyes, sighed with chagrin. There were three strokes he had taught Victor, and the poet had not used one of them.
"Why did you let those opportunities pass?" he asked, petulantly.
"Some day I may need those strokes. The vicomte does not know that I possess them." Victor smiled; then he frowned. "He is made of iron; he is a stone wall; but he is not as brilliant and daring as you are, Paul."
"Let us prolong the truce indefinitely," said the vicomte, later.
Victor bowed without speaking. The courtesy had something non-committal in it, and it did not escape the keen eye of the vicomte.
"Monsieur, you are the most gallant poet I know," and the vicomte saluted gravely.
They were becalmed the next day and the day following. The afternoon of the second day promised to be dull and uninteresting, but grew suddenly pregnant with possibilities when the Comte d'Hérouville addressed the vicomte with these words: "Monsieur, I should like to speak to the Chevalier du Cévennes. Will you take upon yourself the responsibility of conducting me to his cabin? It is not possible for me to ask the courtesy of Monsieur de Saumaise. My patience becomes strained at the sight of him."
"Certainly, Monsieur," answered the vicomte, pleasantly, though the perpendicular line above his nose deepened. "I dare venture that the matter concerns the coming engagement at Quebec, and you desire a witness."