The two months which Jules had to spend with his family before his departure for Europe had come to an end, and the vessel in which he had taken passage was to sail in two or three days. Lochiel was at Quebec, making preparations for a voyage which could hardly take less than two months. Abundant provisions were necessary, and Seigneur D'Haberville had intrusted this point to the young Scotchman's care, while Jules's mother and sister were loading down the young men's valises with all the comforts and dainties they could think of. As the time drew near for a separation which might be forever, Jules was drawn closer and closer to his family, whom he could hardly bear to leave even for a moment. One day, however, he remarked:
"As you know, I promised 'the good gentleman' that I would go and stay a night with him before my departure. I will be back to-morrow morning in time to breakfast with you."
With these words, he picked up his gun and started for the woods, in order to take a short cut and have a little hunting by the way.
M. d'Egmont, whom everybody called "the good gentleman," dwelt in a cottage on the Trois Saumons River, about three quarters of a league from the manor house. With him there lived a faithful follower who had shared alike his good and his evil fortunes. André Francœur was of the same age as his master, and was also his foster-brother. Having been the playfellow of his childhood, and the trusted friend rather than the valet of his riper years, André Francœur had found it as natural to follow D'Egmont's fortunes in adversity as in prosperity.
D'Egmont and his servant were living on the interest of a small capital which they had in common. One might even say that the savings of the valet were even greater than those of the master. Was it consistent with D'Egmont's honor to be thus, in a way, dependent on his own servant? Many will answer no; but "the good gentleman" argued otherwise.
"When I was rich I spent my wealth for my friends, and how have my friends rewarded me? André, alone, has shown himself grateful and noble-hearted. In no way, therefore, do I lower myself by associating my fortune with his, as I would have done with one of my own station had one been found as noble as my valet."
When Jules arrived, the good gentleman was busy weeding a bed of lettuce in his garden. Entirely absorbed, he did not see his young friend, who overheard the following soliloquy:
"Poor little insect! I have wounded you, and lo! all the other ants, just now your friends, are falling upon you to devour you. These tiny creatures are as cruel as men. I am going to rescue you; and as for you, my good ants, thanks for the lesson; I have now a better opinion of my kind."
"Poor fellow!" thought Jules, "with a heart so tender, how he must have suffered!"
Withdrawing noiselessly, he entered by the garden gate.