“A dozen or more soldiers of the Regiment of Picardy, some couriers du bois, and the Indian paddlers. There will be four boats.”
“You go by the Ottawa, and the lakes?”
“Such were my orders.”
“’Tis less fatiguing, although a longer journey; and the time of departure?”
Cassion laughed, as he turned slightly, and bowed to me.
“We leave Quebec before dawn Tuesday,” he said gaily. “It is my wish to enjoy once more the follies of civilization before plunging into the wilderness. The Governor permits that we remain to his ball. Mademoiselle la Chesnayne does me the honor of being my guest on that occasion.”
“I, Monsieur!” I exclaimed in surprise at his boastful words. “’Twas my uncle who proposed––”
“Tut, tut, what of that?” he interrupted in no way discomposed. “It is my request which opens the golden gates. The good Hugo here but looks on at a frivolity for which he cares nothing. ’Tis the young who dance. And you, Monsieur de Artigny, am I to meet you there also, or perchance later at the boat landing?”
The younger man seemed slow in response, but 14 across Cassion’s shoulder our eyes met. I know not what he saw in the glance of mine, for I gave no sign, yet his face brightened, and his words were carelessly spoken.
“At the ball, Monsieur. ’Tis three years since I have danced to measure, but it will be a joy to look on, and thus keep company with Monsieur Chevet. Nor shall I fail you at the boats: until then, Messieurs,” and he bowed hat in hand, “and to you, Mademoiselle, adieu.”