"I thought it must be so," replied Philibert; "you are the landlady
of the Crown of France, I presume?" Dame Bedard carried it on her
face as plainly marked as the royal emblem on the sign over her
head.
"Yes, your Honor, I am Widow Bedard, at your service, and, I hope,
keep as good a hostelry as your Honor will find in the Colony. Will
your Honor alight and take a cup of wine, such as I keep for guests
of quality?"
"Thanks, Madame Bedard, I am in haste: I must find the way to
Beaumanoir. Can you not furnish me a guide, for I like not to lose
time by missing my way?"
"A guide, sir! The men are all in the city on the King's corvee;
Zoe could show you the way easily enough." Zoe twitched her
mother's arm nervously, as a hint not to say too much. She felt
flattered and fluttered too, at the thought of guiding the strange,
handsome gentleman through the forest, and already the question
shot through her fancy, "What might come of it? Such things have
happened in stories!" Poor Zoe! she was for a few seconds
unfaithful to the memory of Antoine La Chance.
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