What became of the vicomte's confederates is unknown.
All throughout the wild journey the Chevalier's efforts were directed
toward keeping up the lagging spirits of the women, who found it easier
to despair than to hope. Night after night he sat beside them during
his watch, always giving up his place reluctantly. That his constant
cheeriness had its effect there is no doubt; for before they came
within sight of the chateau madame had smiled twice.
They arrived in Quebec late in the afternoon. Immediately Anne entered
the Ursulines, to come forth again only when a nun.
Breton fell upon his ragged knees in thanksgiving. The sight of his
gaunt, bearded master filled him with the keenest joy, for this master
of his had been given up as dead.
"And Monsieur le Marquis?" was the Chevalier's first question.
"He lives."
Early that evening Breton came to the Chevalier, who was dreaming
before his fire.
"Monsieur Paul, but I have found such a remarkable paper in my copy of
Rabelais! Here it is."
The Chevalier glanced at it indifferently . . . and at once became
absorbed. It was the list of the cabal which had cost the lives of
four strong men.
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