"Montreal,September 19, 1788."We, gentlemen of Montreal, voluntarily attest to whomsoever it may concern that Mons. Germain LeCour de Lincy is a gentleman of good character and standing in Canada, and son of Monsieur François Xavier LeCour de Lincy,Esquire, an honourable person of St. Elphège.
"Montreal,September 19, 1788.
"We, gentlemen of Montreal, voluntarily attest to whomsoever it may concern that Mons. Germain LeCour de Lincy is a gentleman of good character and standing in Canada, and son of Monsieur François Xavier LeCour de Lincy,Esquire, an honourable person of St. Elphège.
(Signed) "Quinson de St. Ours,"Longueuil,"De Rouville,fils,"St. Dizier,"Louvigny de Montigny,"La Corne,fils,"
(Signed) "Quinson de St. Ours,"Longueuil,"De Rouville,fils,"St. Dizier,"Louvigny de Montigny,"La Corne,fils,"
and over thirty others.
In this paper Germain had secured the apparent attestation of his claims by many of the principal youngernoblesseof the country. He made off with it to St. Elphège, where he spent a week, drawing from his mother a crowd of tales about the de Lérys and the LeGardeurs, which had been gossiped around her when she was housekeeper to Governor de Beauharnois. Then, under excuse of pressing business in France, he left St. Elphège again.
ONCE MORE THE SWORD
The widow Langlois was surprised to see her lodger return so soon to Quebec. He saw quickly that she was dying of curiosity, and concluded that he and his affairs had been the subject of town gossip since his departure. He therefore contrived to give her an occasion to talk to him.
"There are certain malicious stories going about," she said to him tentatively, "which I have been thinking very ungracious on the part of our people."
"Ah, yes, Quebec is always the same little hole. Do these stories relate to me?"
"I admit it with shame, Monsieur, and our Quebec, as you say, is a little hole. Quebec people have nothing to talk about but the strangers."
"What can they invent aboutme? Have I scandalised your house or ill-conducted myself at the Castle? God's-death! you promise me entertainment. It will make this dull village amusing to hear the product of their gigantic imaginations. Begin, I entreat you."
"Some say you are not a Bodyguard, sir."
"Ha, that is news; I shall have to tell that to Lady Dorchester. These good judges know so much more of the Court of France than she does. What else?"
"It is alleged that you are no noble, your father being the Merchant of St. Elphège."
"Yes? My father's parchment titles would answer that. I will take the occasion later on to show them to you."
"And that you carried in France the name of the Marquis de Répentigny."
"Who is the author of these tales, if you know him?" he said with dignity. "What source first spread them among the people, for such things have always an instigator?"
"I would prefer not to tell, Monsieur."
However, by a little flattery he won the point. She told him how her brother-in-law, the Merchant Langlois, of Mountain Hill, had heard at his own shop, from Madame de Léry herself, that a letter had been received from Paris relating the doings of a young Canadian calling himself de Répentigny, but who was identified by two other Canadians as young Lecour of St. Elphège, and afterwards how he had fought with Louis de Léry, of the Bodyguard, and nearly killed him, and had departed for Canada in disgrace.
"And it is most maliciously reported," added Madame Langlois, "that you, sir, are without doubt the person in question."
"Madame," exclaimed he, rising abruptly, as cold as an icicle, "I shall see to this immediately."
The widow was frightened.
"I entreat you say nothing of this to Madame de Léry," she cried in distress.
"On that point you have the word of honour of a French officer," he replied.
As he hastily dressed himself he muttered, "Something radical now."
He went, without delaying, to the de Léry mansion and was admitted face to face with the Councillor.
The house was a long, low, old-fashioned one, covered externally with dark blue mortar in French provincial style, and internally presenting every appearance of hospitality and comfort. The parlours in which Germain was shown into the presence of the owner were hung about with mellowed tapestry, and their doors and windows were open, leading out upon a gallery and thence into a luxuriant garden. The old Councillor, a fine-looking man, frank, hospitable, and perfectly bred, welcomed Germain with a kindly manner just tinged with a shade of curiosity, and awaited mention of his business.
Lecour lost no time in coming to the point, stating the story that had been circulated about him and that report attributed it to the de Lérys.
"Nor is it, sir," concluded he, "the first time I have had in such matters to complain of your family, for I have been given great trouble in the Bodyguard by the reckless allegations of your son Louis, who was unknown to me, but who circulated, of his own accord, the most injurious accusations. Among other things he has stated that I was not noble, because of my father being the Merchant of St. Elphège. Yet you knew very well, sir, that my father is not a petty trader, and I have brought here to-day documents by which I am ready to prove to you beyond question that we are of good descent."
"I regret," the Councillor answered, much disturbed, "that there have been such unfortunate occurrences as you say. I am sure that from your appearance and frankness in thus coming to me, there must be some mistake. My son Louis is a man of strict honour; he must have acted on hasty information. To do you entire justice, I shall make it my duty to look over these documents, which are doubtless entirely correct, and will then do the best in my power to rectify this injury so painful and regrettable. A moment, sir."
He went to the gallery and called out—
"Panet."
"Coming," a hearty voice returned from the garden.
"It is my friend the Judge," remarked the Councillor, returning to the room; "he will serve you as an excellent witness of the evidence you are producing."
"Upon my word, your grapes this year are divine," exclaimed the Judge entering, holding up a large bunch in his hand. He stopped and bowed to Germain.
"Monsieur LeCour de Lincy here has some papers to show us," de Léry proceeded, "which refute that unfortunate report arising from the letters of my son."
Lecour produced his papers, and on perusal of them for some time, both Panet and de Léry pronounced them perfect.
"I owe you the sincerest formal apology, Monsieur de Lincy," de Léry said.
"More than that, sir," Germain returned stiffly. "You minimise the damage done. A written retraction is due me, to exhibit in those quarters where I have been so deeply injured, and without which I can never wholly regain my reputation."
"Not demurring, sir, I freely admit that we owe you this reparation. If you will draw up and send me what will be useful to you, I shall gladly sign it."
"Stop, gentlemen, let me say a word," Judge Panet interposed. "Such a writing being so delicate a matter, to be just to both parties, ought to be drawn by a third. I think I am in a position to do this; will you leave the matter to me?"
"I am the person who was injured, and the only one who knows what will effectively right me," Lecour answered;
"He is correct," said de Léry.
Panet did not push the point further but turned away, and the Chevalier showed the young man out of the house.
By noon, the following letter was received to sign—
"At Quebec,the 2nd October, 1788."Monsieur,—It is with much pleasure that I consent to grant you the satisfaction you ask. I hereby confess that I have been wrong in spreading the report that you have taken another name than that of your family. I retract it publicly and I assure you in that respect with the greatest frankness that I am fully convinced that the story which led me to commit this indiscretion is absolutely false and unworthy of you. I make you this reparation as being due to your character, and I am sincerely mortified about the misunderstanding which has caused you so much trouble."And I have the honour to be, sir,"Yours, etc."To M. LeCour de Lincy, officer of the Bodyguard of the company of Noailles."
"At Quebec,the 2nd October, 1788.
"Monsieur,—It is with much pleasure that I consent to grant you the satisfaction you ask. I hereby confess that I have been wrong in spreading the report that you have taken another name than that of your family. I retract it publicly and I assure you in that respect with the greatest frankness that I am fully convinced that the story which led me to commit this indiscretion is absolutely false and unworthy of you. I make you this reparation as being due to your character, and I am sincerely mortified about the misunderstanding which has caused you so much trouble.
"And I have the honour to be, sir,"Yours, etc.
"To M. LeCour de Lincy, officer of the Bodyguard of the company of Noailles."
The old Councillor, one of the most respected men in the colony, grew red with shame.
"It is impossible for me, as a man of honour, to sign such a paper," he said to himself. After walking up and down in his parlours, therefore, he wrote a reply.
The story of the Chevalier's life will help us to understand him in the matter.
He had, in his youth, under the Frenchrégime, won distinction as a Canadian officer by many important services, and was entitled by written promises of the Government of France, to money rewards alone of nearly a hundred thousand livres. On the fall of the colony, however, when the Canadian officers proceeded to the home country, they found a cold shoulder turned upon them in the departments of Versailles, so ready to waste immense sums for those in power and to ignore the barest dues of merit. Among the rest, de Léry, his bosom burning with the distress of his family in Paris, paced the corridors of the Colonial Office for nearly two years. Monsieur Accaron, the cold and procrastinative ex-Jesuit deputy of the First Minister, would reply—
"I agree with you, sir, that these services are very distinguished; still, Canada being no longer ours, it is to be admitted they have all been useless."
"Monsieur," the soldier would return, "I have never understood that the misfortunes of the brave lessen their rights."
"Well, well, if you will but wait——"
"I shall be enchanted to wait, and I beg of you to inform me of the means of doing so. I have in Paris my wife and four children, and the twenty louis to which his Majesty has reduced my allowance would not support us in the most favoured province of France."
After making such fruitless attempts, he said boldly to them one day—
"I will return to Canada and try my fortune under a different Crown."
"Do not so easily abandon hope," remarked Accaron coolly.
De Léry, for reply, went to the British Ambassador, told him he had heard high reports of the British nation and offered to become a subject of the English King. In due time a man of so much sense and spirit was received by George III. with satisfaction, as the first of the Canadian gentry to enter his service, and as the Chevalier carried out his new allegiance with the strictest sincerity, time only added to his esteem and he became the favourite Councillor of Governor Dorchester.
The same principles of honour, dignity, and good sense marked his feeling in the present difficulty with young Lecour. The reply ran: that the terms of the proposed letter were a surprise to him, that he was anxious to serve his young friend and especially to place in his hands the means of rectifying any injury done to him by unfortunate remarks or rumours, but that it was impossible to grant the letter requested, and he offered the following substitute:—
"At Quebec,the 3rd October, 1788."Monsieur,—It is with great pleasure that I consent to testify in your favour against the injurious rumours concerning you which some persons have assumed to base upon my authority and that of my family. After conversing about your papers and yourself with Judge Panet and other persons of position, I am, equally with them, of opinion that you have proven the falsity of the said rumours, and that you are not the person to whom they relate, your father being of great possessions in the country about St. Elphège, and of repute throughout the whole Province as an honourable man."J. G. C. de Léry."
"At Quebec,the 3rd October, 1788.
"Monsieur,—It is with great pleasure that I consent to testify in your favour against the injurious rumours concerning you which some persons have assumed to base upon my authority and that of my family. After conversing about your papers and yourself with Judge Panet and other persons of position, I am, equally with them, of opinion that you have proven the falsity of the said rumours, and that you are not the person to whom they relate, your father being of great possessions in the country about St. Elphège, and of repute throughout the whole Province as an honourable man.
"J. G. C. de Léry."
Germain tore the answer into pieces in a passion. "Not the person to whom they relate!" he cried, "Who am I then, and what shelter would this precious epistle give me against the son?" Stepping to his escritoir he wrote back the following fiery note:—-
"To Monsieur de Léry, Chevalier of St. Louis, at Quebec."Monsieur,—After having employed all honourable means to induce you to grant me that satisfaction which you owe to me, I hereby notify you that you can avoid dishonour only by one of two alternatives: either by signing the letter sent you by me, unaltered in any particular; or by being present this day at four of the clock at the place called Port St. Louis, to render account on the spot of the reports which you have been purposely spreading against my honour, and to accord to me in your person the satisfaction they deserve. I shall expect your answer at once upon your reading this, and if by mid-day I have not received it, I shall prove to you my exactitude to my word.—I am, sir (if you accept either proposal), your servant with all my heart,"LeCour de Lincy."
"To Monsieur de Léry, Chevalier of St. Louis, at Quebec.
"Monsieur,—After having employed all honourable means to induce you to grant me that satisfaction which you owe to me, I hereby notify you that you can avoid dishonour only by one of two alternatives: either by signing the letter sent you by me, unaltered in any particular; or by being present this day at four of the clock at the place called Port St. Louis, to render account on the spot of the reports which you have been purposely spreading against my honour, and to accord to me in your person the satisfaction they deserve. I shall expect your answer at once upon your reading this, and if by mid-day I have not received it, I shall prove to you my exactitude to my word.—I am, sir (if you accept either proposal), your servant with all my heart,
"LeCour de Lincy."
While he was hotly engaged in penning this letter to the father, the incidents of his duels with the son Louis crowded before him—the counsels of his friends, the choosing of the weapons, the deadly tension of the combat, the look of furious contempt in his adversary's eyes. It was only after he had sent off Madame's man-of-all-work with it that the incongruousness of challenging so old a man struck him.
The Chevalier, on receiving the challenge, perceived at once the gravity of his own situation. The code of the time demanded his acceptance. He knew that, however a duel might be laughed at by boasters, the sober truth was that it brought a man face to face with death, and that the present cause of quarrel was not worth any such sacrifice. In short the thing seemed to him foolish and unreasonable.
No time was to be lost. He had therefore recourse for advice to his boon companion Panet, who pronounced it a bad business.
"Really," he said, moving nervously, "you must recognise, my dear de Léry, that men of our stiffness and weight can have no chance pitted against a young fellow from the fencing schools of Versailles. He has a wrist as limber as a fish no doubt. Try to end the affair some way."
De Léry, annoyed and disappointed that the judge did not rise to the occasion, and thrown back on his own resources, went to Lord Dorchester himself, requesting his mediation.
The Governor read over the letters which had passed, especially that sent by LeCour for signature.
"Tut, what a young fool. Tell LaNaudiere there to send for him," he exclaimed.
So in about half an hour Germain appeared.
Guessing the state of the matter, he began by complaining of his wrongs on the part of the de Lérys. He was listened to to the end by Dorchester, who then, with the greatest politeness, but firmly, pointed out the impossibility of any man of honour signing the proposed confession.
"Do you both agree, gentlemen, to leave the form of the letter with me?"
Germain could not do otherwise.
The Governor sat down at a writing-desk, laid the epistle before him, and produced the following:—
"Monsieur,—It is with great pleasure that I consent to testify in your favour against certain injurious rumours affecting your reputation and family name, which have been circulated by unauthorised persons in the name of my household. You have clearly proven to me that the rumours in question are calumnies without any foundation, and I am sincerely affected concerning the pain they have given you."
"Monsieur,—It is with great pleasure that I consent to testify in your favour against certain injurious rumours affecting your reputation and family name, which have been circulated by unauthorised persons in the name of my household. You have clearly proven to me that the rumours in question are calumnies without any foundation, and I am sincerely affected concerning the pain they have given you."
Dorchester read what he had written.
"There is my award," he pronounced. "It is, in my opinion, all that one gentleman ought to demand of another. Do you consider it fair each of you?"
Each declared it satisfactory.
"Then sign it, Mr. de Léry," said the Governor promptly. De Léry signed it.
Dorchester gave it to Germain.
"Are you satisfied?" he asked.
"Perfectly, your Excellency."
Germain thrust the letter in his breast and bowed himself out. On sober thought he preferred it to his own. The same evening he sailed for Europe. But not before he had secured the signature of the Bishop of Quebec to a copy of his birth-certificate, altered according to the judge's order procured at Montreal.
Onward, onward, he impatiently counted the leagues of the sea by day. A ravishingly fair face beckoned in his dreams by night.
THE RECORD
On New Year's morning de Lotbinière was crossing the great courtyard of the Louvre, when he heard the voice of Louis de Léry calling him. The Bodyguard was hurrying forward with a curl of disgust on his lip, and holding out an open letter.
The Marquis, stopping, took it with a glance of inquiry.
"More of the beast!" ejaculated Louis.
The letter was one from Madame de Léry, relating with a woman's indignation the proceedings of Germain during his first visit to Quebec.
"Mon Dieu!how disgusting," Louis exclaimed.
"More than that—it is felonious," almost shouted the Marquis, great veins swelling upon his forehead and his hand shaking with rage. "Should the monster ever land again upon the shores of France from which I drove him, my God, I will hang him! Leave me this letter."
"The fellow is gross enough to return," said Louis scornfully. "What could be plainer—his movements speak for themselves."
Here a shabby individual stepped up, handed the Marquis a note, and at the same time beckoned the two into a corner out of the crowd. The billet was a scrap on which was written only—
"Lecour."
Mystery had a fascination for de Lotbinière. Not so for Louis, who was impatient that so seedy a person should presume to stop them. Still, on being handed the paper, he condescended to remain.
"Craving pardon, my Lord," said Jude—it was of course he—in a low voice, "I have word for you in this affair. Your powerful movements are known to me."
"Indeed?"
"I know your sentiments on the impostor."
"And you wish me to buy some information from you?"
"Monsieur le Marquis—he is my enemy also: I ask no price, only your co-operation with a humble individual like myself."
"Speak on."
"It is all letters to day, my Lord. I heard you both discuss that of Madame de Léry."
"You are a spy, then?" asked Louis tartly, scorn flashing across his face.
"Anobserver, Monsieur—one of the King's secret service."
"A 'Sentinel of the nation,'" the Marquis said, only the more deeply interested, smiling and tendering his snuff-box to Jude graciously.
"And next?" added he.
"Next, too, is a letter. I watched the mails addressed to his correspondents and friends here. This is a letter to his valet."
The Marquis took it. It read—
"Dover,6th January, 1789."My dear Dominique,—Prepare for me within ten days after you receive this."De Lincy."
"Dover,6th January, 1789.
"My dear Dominique,—Prepare for me within ten days after you receive this.
"De Lincy."
"Peste!" hissed the Marquis.
Jude pressed a folded paper into his hand, slipped behind a pillar and disappeared, and the two relatives joined the crowd. The Marquis that day made copious entries in his journal.
His life was now entirely engrossed in the controversy with LeCour. As a Frenchman the occupation was dear to his heart. What Norman does not love a lawsuit? What Parisian, politics? The journal became even more complete and exact on the matter and teemed with expressions of contempt thrust home to the heart of the absent adversary. It recapitulated minutely the manner in which LeCour had been discovered wearing the Répentigny name; the refusal of the slayer of Philibert to punish him; the change of name to de Lincy, which de Lotbinière shrewdly attributed to the genealogist; the conduct of de Bailleul; the real origin of the Lecour family, with the history of the father; the duels with Louis, and his vexations on account of the matter; the writer's journey to Châlons, Troyes, and Versailles, the circumstances of the disappearance of Germain, and the news of his actions in Canada.
After bringing his account down to date with a description of the written proofs collected, he laid the journal aside, opened the drawer of his secretary and took out a folio sheet of an exceedingly heavy wrapping-paper. This he bent over so as to make it into something resembling the cover of a book, then cut a lining of white unruled foolscap for this improvised cover, and taking out his paste-pot, fitted it neatly to the inside. Next he clipped up a length of linen tape and by means of wafers attached eight pieces of it as ties to the top, bottom, and sides. The whole constituted one of those record-covers which he had been taught to make for the papers of special enterprises in his profession. On the outside he pasted a small square labelled:—
There was, he considered, a fine turn of irony in "et cetera."
The record-cover completed, he surveyed it front and back with satisfaction, tried the ties, read the inscription over once more, and opened it. In it he placed a long "Extract from my journal," written with care in his beautiful handwriting and bound with a tiny ribbon.
Next, he added some letters of Collinot to himself and de Léry. These were followed by copies of his own to the latter. His epistle of reproach to de Bailleul came next. Then a genealogical memorandum of the family of LeGardeur. Then Madame de Léry's letter from Canada; after it a solemn statement which he had caused to be drawn by Quartermaster Villerai of Châlons. Then the folded paper left by Jude, which was a copy of the damaging entry discovered by him in the books of the church of St. Germain-des-Prés. Some lesser documents added to these made up the nucleus of adossieror Record—an armoury of weapons which were to be gathered for the complete and final destruction of the usurper, should he again set foot in France.
Only a day or two passed when another letter came to him from Madame de Léry. It related the actions of Germain on his second visit to Quebec, dwelling, with the rage of a proud woman, on what had passed between her husband and the young man. Judge Panet, too, had joined his efforts to hers, and rapidly tracked Germain's intrigues from Notary d'Aguilhe to the Judge and the young gentlemen of Montreal, and from the Governor at Quebec to the sacristy of the cathedral. He therefore was able to enclose a packet of letters and affidavits arranged in order, and which included among others—
1. A long foolscap statement by d'Aguilhe, in which the Notary of St. Elphège took care to duly magnify his own dignity and precautions.
2. A copy of the Lecour petition to insert the titles into the contract of marriage.
3. A letter from Chief Justice Fraser about the granting of the petition.
4. A copy of the marriage contract of Lecour's parents showing the alterations.
5. A letter from Lord Dorchester on the duel arbitration, addressed to Madame de Léry, and sealed with his seal.
6. One from the Bishop of Quebec.
7. A copy, signed by him, of the true birth-certificate of Germain.
8. A total repudiation by Quinson St. Ours of the affair of the banquet at Montreal.
9. A letter from General Gabriel Christie, Commander-in-Chief of the forces in Canada and proprietor of the Seigniory of Répentigny: "I declare upon my honour that I have never sold my Seigniory of Répentigny."
Letters and certificates from nearly all of the most prominent of the French gentry of the colony concerning Lecour, his family, and his pretensions.
The affair was causing a rustle among the entire alliance, and the letters were full of the terms, "my dear cousin," "uncle," "brother," &c.
D'Aguilhe (No. 1) said, among other things, "The probity and good faith which should be the basis of the actions of all men, and more particularly those of aPublic Person, preserved me from condescending to the reiterated demands made upon me by the Sieurs Lecour, father and son, to myself make the additions of the titles in question to the said contract, a thing which I refused absolutely, giving them plainly to understand that a deed received by a Notary, made and finished in his notariat and enregistered, was asacred thing, to which it could notBE PERMITTED TO ANY ONE TO MAKE THE SLIGHTEST ALTERATION WITHOUT PROFOUND DISGRACE."
Chief Justice Fraser (No. 3) wrote: "Some time ago I heard some rumours current about Monsieur LeCour, but I had no idea I had played arôlein the affair. Here are the facts: In September last a Guard of his Majesty the King of France presented himself with his papers, which appeared to me as much in proper form as foreign papers could seem to me. He presented a petition to me to be permitted to add the names 'de Lincy' and 'Esquire' to his documents. I allowed it. I had no suspicion that the Guard or his papers were impostures. In any event, I reap from this incident the pleasure of corresponding with Madame de Léry."
The letter of Quinson St. Ours (No. 8) read: "Sir and dear relative,—I should deem myself lacking in what I owe both to you and to myself were I to neglect to destroy the suspicion you have formed of my conduct in the affair of Monsieur, your son, against Lecour. I can give you my word of honour that I always refused to give my signature to his different petitions. My brother informs me that you say 'that several of your friends, and even of your relations at Montreal, certified that Monsieur Lecour was a gentleman.' I am not of their number, and I do not know that family."
The Marquis eagerly read the packet through, digested its contents, blessed his ally Panet for his professional methodicality, and placed the papers in order in the Record.
After the flight of more than a century, this Record, yellow and faded and a little worm-eaten, but complete even to its wax seals, its wire-headed pins, and the thin gilt edges of the correspondence paper, lies before the writer of these pages, a vivid fragment of the oldrégime, a witness to the hatred, the activity, the very thoughts, as it were, of the enemies of Lecour, and revealing his perils from their inner side.
THE MARQUIS'S VISITOR
On the very day after the Panet documents were added to the Record a visitor called upon the Marquis.
"The 25th of January," records the latter in his journal, "there entered my apartments, about half-past ten in the morning, a young man, wearing a sword and a hat with a white plume, his suit entirely of black knitcloth with trimmings to match, of middle height, firmly built and well-looking, skin fine with plenty of colour, eye nearly black, soft and somewhat large, surmounted by a black eyebrow."
"My name is Monsieur de la Louvière, Gendarme of the Guard," he said. "I come on the part of the Chevalier de Bailleul respecting the matter of Monsieur LeCour."
"Be seated, sir," replied the Marquis with interest, indicating a chair near his writing-desk, at which he himself sat down. "Is this Lecour known to yourself?"
"I am a friend of his," replied M. de la Louvière.
"Where is he now?"
"A week ago he was in England."
"Have you not heard that he is an impostor?"
"I only know, sir, that he is a very unfortunate man, and that you, who have so interested yourself against him, have only to show him leniency and kindness and you would be surprised at his gratitude. I carry the appeal of the Chevalier to you, desirous of seeing whether the trouble cannot be amicably arranged."
"Tell the Chevalier de Bailleul, sir, that all who bear the name of Canadian have a claim upon my good nature, particularly any son of a servant once in my employ. I shall oppose him no further, provided he but at once replace himself in his own rank. I only, secondly, exact that the honour of Monsieur de Léry, as the nephew of Madame my wife, be completely cleared and sustained with his comrades and officers." The Marquis here noticed that the Record was lying upon the table under the eyes of the stranger, but the latter continued the conversation.
"That can be done. But it ought to be so arranged as not to interfere with the standing, for the present, of Monsieur Lecour, because, Monsieur le Marquis, one of his protectors, the Duc de Liancourt, has arranged to bestow on him the commandancy of his cadet institute in the provinces."
"An infinitely better position for him than remaining in the company of Noailles," remarked de Lotbinière, removing the Record from the table, "seeing the Bodyguards have caught the rumour of his birth."
"But it is a part of the arrangement that he should stay in the Bodyguard eighteen months longer."
"Why should such a person be so much considered? Monsieur de Léry has done nothing more than tell the exact truth, which is the duty of a man of honour when pressed by his superiors. He has been most properly avenged; I see nothing left to arrange."
"But he would be still exposed to a challenge to fight."
"His officers have forbidden him to fight with an inferior."
"There remains the certainty of a caning."
"What do you wish to be done?"
"That Monsieur de Léry should merely say off hand before his friends that what he had told of Monsieur Lecour was said at hazard."
"Then, sir, tell the Chevalier de Bailleul that when I said I was willing to arrange that affair amicably I did not know that he would dare to propose that I commence by consenting to the formal and complete dishonour of Monsieur de Léry. Judge, now, whether a proposal of the sort could be made to me about the cousin-germain of my children?"
"Excuse me, Marquis, this was not exactly my meaning, nor that of Monsieur de Bailleul."
"Inform Monsieur de Bailleul," cried de Lotbinière, "that he must feel it impossible, and that all is finished and over by the orders given to each of them by their respective adjutants."
"No, sir," the stranger sternly cried, in reply, "all isnotfinished, for so unpardonable have been the offences of Monsieur de Léry towards Monsieur Lecour thatonly one of them must live."
"Then let him kill Lecour instead of some one of his comrades, who would make life intolerable to him were he to show himself such a coward as you have proposed. Has he not proved a brave man to have fought so often, and with that fellow so below his dignity? As for me, knowing what I owe to myself, I should refuse most scrupulously to compromise myself with any one who was not of my station. Were I attacked in a street by such a man, I should defend my life with the greatest spirit; but never under the arrangements of an affairen règle. Such has always been my way of conduct, according to the truest principles of honour."
"Of honour!" the stranger exclaimed sarcastically; "and who taught de Léry to apply these principles to a fellow Bodyguard?"
"He acted, as I have said, under the advice of his superior officers, especially of Monsieur de Villerai, who is his relative, and a Canadian gentleman of distinguished ancestry."
"Ancestry! de Villerai of distinguished ancestry! This, then, is the man who has undertaken to crush my friend Lecour on the question of extraction! All the world knows that his paternal uncle, of the same name as he, is a common carter in Quebec, and his children in the last ditch of squalor and degradation."
De Lotbinière's countenance changed as quickly as though he had been stabbed.
"To the sorrow of his family, you speak but too truly, although the father was educated very differently. His misfortune was to have married a fool, who supposed herself obliged, as the wife of a gentleman, to dissipate their substance in innumerable petty entertainments; but from this the only rightful conclusion to be drawn is that that branch has derogated fromnoblesse, and can no longer pretend to enjoy for the future the state of its ancestors. But Monsieur Lecour must know well that, as for the branch of the Chevalier de Villerai, the further back you go in his family tree in Canada the more brightly hisnoblessestands forth in splendour."
"His grandfather," the stranger retorted scornfully, "was a runaway bankrupt out of the prison of Rouen. And who is this de Léry? His father, during the siege of Quebec, instead of confronting the enemy, went buying up cattle in the parishes to sell over again to the commissariat at the expense of the misery of an expiring people."
"Who told you that?" cried de Lotbinière in a passion. "Who is the author of such an infamy? I have heard that story told of Monsieur de Lanaudière, but it is as false of one as of the other. It was to Captain de Lanaudière that the compulsion of farmers to bring in provisions was entrusted, but even he went out as an officer doing duty, and never as a trader in beef. Lies, all lies!"
"Let that pass, then," said the unknown Gendarme of the Guard; "but though I can understand de Léry's reporting to his superior on being pressed for information, it was nothing less than ignoble and disgusting of him to have spread these tales concerning my friend among his comrades."
"What!" returned de Lotbinière, "when Lecour was wearing the name of his uncle!"
"If he wore it he did not seek it; it was his companions who gave it to him."
"To have worn it at all, sir, admits of no excuses."
"It was never dishonoured by him; it suffered in nothing."
"That may be, but it does not destroy in the slightest this most sacred principle of society, that each one carry his true name and not that of another."
The stranger lost patience.
"Eh, but, sir," he cried, "this name is not so precious! This name is not so precious, I say, after the adventure of the eldest of the family, who was hung in effigy in that country for having assassinated a worthy citizen of Quebec on his doorstep at the entrance to the Upper Town. And my friend Lecour possesses the proofs of it. It was Panet who was the judge that condemned him for the assassination and ordered him hanged in effigy."
"Hold," returned the Marquis, "Panet the judge? Does your friend not know that Monsieur Panet was only a simple attorney in the days of the Frenchrégime? I see that you are very badly informed. He of whom you speak was my best friend from childhood, and without question one of the most estimable men Canada ever produced. This is what befell: His quarters as an officer were given him upon Philibert, a man who, having kept a bakery, furnished the King's store with bread for the soldiers at Quebec, whence he grew to look upon himself as the King'smunitionnaire, and exempt from providing quarters. Monsieur de Répentigny presents his order for lodgings. Philibert refuses. Répentigny replies, 'This must be settled either with the Lieutenant-General, whose written order this is, or with the Intendant—but I must be lodged either by you or by some one else.' Philibert, who was a brute, and filled himself with wine at every meal, goes after his dinner and insults the Intendant, who threatens him with prison unless he arranges for Monsieur de Répentigny. The man, leaving there, rushes, drunk with anger and wine, to Monsieur de Répentigny, whom he covers with the most insolent and revolting expressions. Répentigny turns him out of his chamber. Philibert, continuing his outrageous shouts, ends by delivering the officer a violent stroke of his cane. Monsieur de Répentigny then, as one might well do on such sudden pain and provocation, drew out his sword and ran him through the body, so that he died a couple of days afterwards. That, sir, is your assassination without cause! Then the Sovereign Court of course was obliged to order his decapitation in effigy—not his hanging, as you say; and such is the measure of truth in the information which is given you by that young man on the occurrences of his native colony."
The Marquis's voice having risen in a towering fury, it was impossible to say any more to him, and the Gendarme of the Guard, with a smile, rose and bowed himself out. Immediately after his departure, the Marquis uttered a sudden exclamation.
He hastened to the lodging of his nephew, and asked him, in great excitement, what was the personal appearance of Lecour. By close comparison he arrived at the confirmation of his suspicion—that his visitor had been none other than the adventurer himself.
AN UNEXPECTED ALLIANCE
Fortified with the glimpse into the camp of his adversaries which his bold call upon de Lotbinière gave, Germain lost no time in making his preparations for the approaching battle. Grancey, at Troyes, received a hasty line from him—
"Complete proofs now ready; am coming."
The Baron was among a group of comrades in his chambers when the note arrived. He immediately ordered wine, over which they discussed in heated terms of sympathy the persecution of their friend and comrade.
When Germain appeared at the gates it seemed as if sunshine had returned to the company. To him their happy faces were an exhilaration, and he felt as if he were living once more. His fellow-officers rushed towards him, and the Guardsmen crowded around. He was besieged with questions, refreshments were brought to him, and they carried him in triumph to his former chambers, which they had decorated with flowers. As soon as he could he made his way to Collinot, and asked that a time be fixed for the hearing of his case.
"This day fortnight at ten of the clock before noon," Collinot said in his decisive, military manner.
Lecour saluted and retired, and the Adjutant wrote a notice for de Léry to prepare his counter-proof.
Both sides entered into the contest with the utmost activity.
Germain's party gave him a banquet, whereat he, crowned with honours and elated by the surrounding enthusiasm, made an oration which sent all those present forth after the festivity to spread again the burning conviction of his stainless honour and of the shameful conduct of his enemies. It was all a desperate game, as he knew perfectly well. But the stake was high—the object of his life—Cyrène.
Louis de Léry immediately sent to de Lotbinière the notice he received from Collinot. The measures of the Marquis were varied and vigorous.
First he took the Record with him, and travelled posthaste to Châlons, where he asked de Léry to take him to their relative, de Villerai.
"You are the man to present this, my dear Villerai," said he. "Being in this distinguished corps, you have an influence to which none of the rest of us can pretend. I leave the papers in your hands. You have merely to hand them to the Prince de Poix or Adjutant Collinot to secure absolutely the obliteration of thatcanaille."
"Certainly, certainly. Leave them with me. They shall be perfectly safe in my possession. Believe me, dear de Lotbinière, I shall do everything excellently for you."
De Lotbinière, reading the easy-going face of the bluff epicurean in uniform, said to himself, "If it required any brains I could not trust you."
The Record was therefore left in de Villerai's charge.
De Lotbinière next went to Paris and wrote to Collinot, stating that de Villerai would be on hand on the day appointed, prepared to present the de Léry side of the case. He furthermore wrote to the Count de Vaudreuil, reminding him of the Canadian connections of his family, and invoking his exalted interest at Court against the intruder upon their social rights. The Prince de Poix was likewise reminded by him, in a letter, of the decision he had expressed against Lecour during their interview some months before.
These precautions taken, he remained in Paris, confidently awaiting the outbreak of his powder mines and the destruction of theparvenu. Matters lay in a condition of suspense until the fateful hour.
In the afternoon of the day previous the Châlons diligence brought a stranger who sought out Germain in his quarters. The face was so familiar that Germain's attention was riveted upon him.
"You do not know me, I see," said the man; "but I am come to do you a good turn, a fine turn, a noble turn."
By something erratic in his look Lecour recognised the would-be slayer of de Léry, and his hand crept towards the hilt of his sword.
"Don't be afraid of me," said the maniac; "we are allies."
"I am not afraid," Lecour answered. "What do you wish of me?"
"To give you this," Philibert exclaimed gaily, handing him a packet. "Take it; your battle is won."
With incredulous wonder Lecour looked at the parcel.
"Do you know who I am?" the stranger cried.
"You are Philibert," replied Lecour.
"I am The Instrument of Vengeance," the other corrected, and departed without a bow.
On opening the packet Germain, to his utter astonishment, found de Lotbinière's Record, the precious armoury collected with so much labour by his enemies and so necessary to their case.
As he looked over the documents it contained and felt the sharpness of the different thrusts, he turned hot and dizzy; but the fact that this great find was in his possession, and lost to his opponents, gave him inexpressible satisfaction. He pored over them till far past midnight, when at last his feeling of exultation gave way to overwhelming remorse. His aspect suddenly became that of haggard misery itself; his head dropped, and he murmured in a low, agonised voice, "Is poor Germain Lecour really a liar, a pretender, a forger, a——" Aghast, his lips refused to pronounce the word.
His head dropped still lower; at the movement something fell out of his breast upon the floor. For some moments he did not perceive it. "Yet these things—liar, pretender, forger—what are they more than words contrived by the powerful to condemn the doings of the weak? Whom have I wronged? Have not I only defended myself? Why should the contrivances of society—not mine—stand between me and all that is worth living for?" His glance at length lighted upon the object which had fallen from his bosom—a large locket. The fall had sprung open its lid, and he was face to face with the miniature image of Cyrène. The light of his consuming passion flamed in his strangely transformed eyes.
"For you, everything," he murmured, sobbing.
A POOR ADVOCATE
The Prince, as Colonel of the company, came specially to Troyes by the desire of Collinot, though the trouble bored him, for he liked Germain, and would never have raised the question concerning his birth had it merely come to his knowledge without the scandal of formal charges. To keep the company in as aristocratic shape as possible as part of his establishment was a thing in which his princelyéclatwas concerned. He came bringing with him his wife's father, the Duke of Beauveau, Marshal of France. The Marshal, whose white hair, stately form, and liberal ideas were universally blessed throughout the kingdom, was a man of singular firmness and kindness in what he considered to be right. He it was who, as Viceroy of Languedoc, had released the fourteen Huguenot women who, on account of their religion, had languished in the dungeons of the Tower of Constance till their heads became blanched with age, and who had fallen at his feet when the Tower was opened for his inspection. The frantic demands of bigotry and the repeated orders of the Minister on that occasion produced no effect upon his pitying heart.
"For justice and humanity," he answered, "plead in favour of these poor creatures, and I refuse to return them under any less than the direct order of the King." The King, to his credit—it was Louis XV.—stood firm also. Beauveau it was, likewise, who refused support to Maupéou's infamous scheme to stifle the whole magistracy and rule the country without a court of justice.
The garrison of Troyes and the company considered the advent of the Marshal their opportunity for a grand review, and an invitation had been sent to the company de Villeroy, who came over from Châlons. Nominally the Lecour affair did not enter into the consideration of the authorities, but there was no doubt that it was the grand topic of excitement among both corps of the Bodyguard.
At ten of the clock—the appointed hour—the Marshal, accompanied by the Prince, entered the hall where Germain stood ready for the investigation. The breast of the old Commandant was covered with stars and well-earned distinctions, and the glittering Order of the Holy Ghost, with its crust of great diamonds, scintillated upon it. Before him, on the table was Germain's document-box open. Collinot sat beside it, examining the papers, one after another. Nobody else was present.
The Marshal was given the great chair of honour, and the Prince another beside him. The latter sat furtive and uncomfortable. Lecour experienced a sensation of his own immense inferiority to the grand soldier who was sitting as his judge, and he felt helpless and uncertain in such hands.
"Adjutant," began the Marshal, "where are the parties? Is this gentleman Monsieur de Lincy?"
Collinot assented. Germain bowed and turned ghostly white.
"Have you examined his credentials, and how do you find them?"
"They appear correct, my Lord Duke."
"Are the accusers not here?"
"Perhaps they are delayed, my Lord."
"It is a grave thing to keep a man in suspense over an accusation."
All waited silently several minutes. Every second seemed to pull with the tug of a cable on Germain's beating heart.
The door opened. In hurried the Chevalier de Villerai, heated, rubicund, confused, and his uniform partly in disorder, saluting the Marshal as if bereft of his senses.
"Your Excellency—your Grace, I mean—I—I—most humbly—your Excellency—ah—pardon me, your Grace."
"Entirely, Quartermaster. You represent Monsieur de Léry, I presume?"
"Yes, but—but—but——" Villerai stammered, and stopped, his face growing redder.
"Proceed quite tranquilly, Monsieur de Villerai," the Marshal remarked. "What accusation do you bring against Monsieur de Lincy?"
Villerai cast an uncomfortable glance at Germain, then he blurted out "That he is—an—some say an im——. I confess I know nothing against the gentleman myself—he seems to be a very nice young man, but Monsieur de Léry says he is something of that sort."
"And that his proper title is not de Lincy, but that he is the son of a merchant in Canada who is no noble?" Collinot added.
"You know nothing against him yourself?" Beauveau asked of Villerai.
"Nothing myself, very true."
"You bring evidence, then?"
"My Lord—Marshal we have no evidence. I throw myself on your goodness—I had some papers with the contents of which I am unacquainted—but where they are I—I—pardon me your Excellency—this is a very unfortunate affair."
"I think so, Monsieur de Villerai. Your friends have brought to trial a perfectly innocent man—they have allowed him, for several months, to remain under the intolerable vexations of the ban of society, and to stand deprived of his birthright as a gentleman—have destroyed him at Court—have almost blighted his career—have forced him to expose his life to the ocean, to take far-off and highly perilous journeys to collect his defences—and have compelled him more than once to brave mortal combat. They have done all this, as it appears, while his claims were perfectly regular, and while they themselves fail to produce the slightest atom of evidence against him beyond the unsupported assertions of their own family. What am I, as patron of this regiment, and a military man of sixty years' experience, to say to this state of things?"
"Excuse my—my Lord," de Villerai cried in desperation. "I said our proofs are lost."
"It was your duty to have properly kept them. The opportunity for trial has been given. The accused has responded and cleared himself. You may depart, sir."
"Monsieur de Lincy," continued he, addressing the latter, with an alteration from his severe tone to the kindest of voices, "it almost moves me to tears to think of the indignities to which you have been subjected. Your honour is absolved, and Major Collinot is requested to make entry of this fact on the registers of the company, to avail you in case these charges should ever be repeated. You are reinstalled with your full rank and record, and moreover, in order that your reinstallment may be unequivocal in the eyes of the public, I appoint you my specialaide-de-campfor the review of this morning. Horse yourself and report at my apartments."
Lecour had stood throughout the interview perfectly motionless—almost statuesque, except a slight clinching of the hands at times. His feelings, however, were at the highest possible tension, and his eyes observant of the slightest changes on the faces of those concerned, and when he found de Villerai—who was a stranger to him—so helpless, a feeling of triumph unexpectedly possessed him. He knew, of course, about the Record—- divined that de Villerai had been entrusted with it—in fact, through the mysterious means related, it was safe above their heads locked in his own sleeping chamber. But what he had been uncertain of was what sort of a man the Quartermaster would turn out to be as a representative of de Léry—what kind of a case he would make without the writings—how much of them he would recite—how that recital would be received by the tribunal—and whether the tribunal would have any regard whatever to the evidence or condemn him by some instinct of caste prejudice. While turning these thoughts over like lightning in his mind, they were brought to a standstill by the pronouncement of Marshal de Beauveau and the sudden relief and violent sense of gratitude produced by the old soldier's sympathetic address to himself.
He felt he had won Cyrène.
He mounted the staircase to his apartment as if his feet were winged. The quarters were deserted. The company had already mustered and marched to the review ground, a levelled field adjoining the boulevarded rampart, surrounded with willow trees and known as the Champ-de-Mars. Germain, as he approached it, riding with the Marshal and the Prince, felt as he had not since he had first put on the uniform of the Bodyguard. His spirit seemed to prance with joy like the horse beneath him. He had now that security, the want of which had caused him such an ocean of misery; he felt that his enemies were now conquered, and that Cyrène was at last his.
Thus they rode to the Champ, where he could see the various regiments, drawn up at the "attention," in a long, brilliant line, their arms shining in the sun, the two companies of the Bodyguard mounted, in their centre, with their magnificent standards and gorgeously arrayed bands. It was a thrilling and beautiful sight.
When they came to the edge of the Champ, the horses of the Marshal and his staff quickened pace, and soon, galloping down the field, they passed in front of the whole division, every eye both of soldiers and spectators levelled towards them. Lecour was the object of intense interest. At this conspicuous moment the Marshal called him to his side and entrusted him with a general order to pass to the commanders of the regiments.
Germain galloped first to the company of Noailles and passed the order with a grave salute to the Prince, who had taken his position in front of it as Colonel. As he did so, the enthusiasm of his companions got the better of their discipline, and they broke into a loud, prolonged cry of "Vive de Lincy!" The members of the company of Villeroy had, as a body, always felt more or less contrary in the affair to their companion de Léry, and there was a party who had strongly favoured Germain. The proof, now so clear, that Louis' accusations had been rejected, suddenly converted the rest to Lecour's side and an enthusiasm similar to that of his own company broke out in their ranks too, resulting in a continuation of the cry, "Vive de Lincy!" This extraordinary scene excited the other troops. The whole line broke out again and again into the repeated cry of, "Vive de Lincy!" while Germain rode rapidly along. The crowd of spectators took it up, and added tremendous shouts of approbation. Nor did the cry end with the parade. He heard it everywhere; at mess-table it was the greeting as he entered, the response to numerous toasts to his health, and the last sound he heard as he sank to sleep at night.
The feelings of de Léry were very different. The shout was to him his social doom. He stood his ground and executed his duty without an external sign, but his heart withered when his comrades there and then commenced to shun him and drive him into Coventry. No protestations, no statements that he could make, would, he knew, have been of any avail; so he spared himself the trouble. Withdrawing entirely into a proud reserve, he was soon banished from the regiment and from society, and driven to find a refuge over the ocean in Canada, where, hidden from the eyes of European criticism, he entered upon a new career.
The Marquis de Lotbinière heard of the loss of the documents first by a letter from de Villerai. On the same day he received the following from the Count de Vaudreuil—