“Hum! is that your thought, De Pean? Looks she in this quarter?” Bigot meditated with his hand on his chin for a moment or two. “You think she is doubtless at home this morning?” added he.
“It was late when De Repentigny left her last night, and she would have long and pleasant dreams after that visit, I warrant,” replied the Secretary.
“How do you know? By St. Picot! You watch her closely, De Pean!”
“I do, your Excellency: I have reason,” was the reply.
De Pean did not say what his reason for watching Angélique was; neither did Bigot ask. The Intendant cared not to pry into the personal matters of his friends. He had himself too much to conceal not to respect the secrets of his associates.
“Well, De Pean! I will wait on Mademoiselle des Meloises this morning. I will act on your suggestion, and trust I shall not find her unreasonable.”
“I hope your Excellency will not find her unreasonable, but I know you will, for if ever the devil of contradiction was in a woman he is in Angélique des Meloises!” replied De Pean savagely, as if he spoke from some experience of his own.
“Well, I will try to cast out that devil by the power of a still stronger one. Ring for my horse, De Pean!”
The Secretary obeyed and ordered the horse. “Mind, De Pean!” continued the Intendant. “The Board of the Grand Company meet at three for business! actual business! not a drop of wine upon the table, and all sober! not even Cadet shall come in if he shows one streak of the grape on his broad face. There is a storm of peace coming over us, and it is necessary to shorten sail, take soundings, and see where we are, or we may strike on a rock.”
The Intendant left the palace attended by a couple of equerries. He rode through the palace gate and into the city. Habitans and citizens bowed to him out of habitual respect for their superiors. Bigot returned their salutations with official brevity, but his dark face broke into sunshine as he passed ladies and citizens whom he knew as partners of the Grand Company or partizans of his own faction.