"Monsieur, you are a man of experience; are there not times when the best of us are unable to surmount temptation?"
"Only his Holiness is infallible."
"The Chevalier was unjustly exiled for a crime he knew nothing about. He suffered all this ignominy to save a comrade in arms, whom he believed to be guilty, but who was as innocent as himself. Only a week ago this comrade became aware of what had happened. Even had he been guilty he would not have made profit from his friend's generosity. It was fine of the chevalier; do you not agree with me?"
"Then the Chevalier is not all bad?" said Du Puys.
"No. But he is the son of his father. You have met the Marquis de Périgny?"
"Only to pass him on the streets. But here comes the host with the punch. What shall the toast be?"
"New France."
"My compliments on your good taste."
And they bowed gravely to each other, drinking in silence. The youth renewed his gaze at the fire, this time attracted by the chimney soot as it wavered above the springing flames, now incandescent, now black as jet, now tearing itself from the brick and flying heavenward. Sometimes the low, fierce music of the storm could be heard in the chimney. Du Puys, glancing over the lid of his pewter pot, observed the young man kindly.
"Monsieur," he asked, "are you related to the poet De Saumaise?"