"Why do you
utter his name, Varin, to sour our wine? I hope one day to pull
down the Dog, as well as the whole kennel of the insolent
Bourgeois." Then, as was his wont, concealing his feelings under a
mocking gibe, "Varin," said he, "they say that it is your marrow
bone the Golden Dog is gnawing--ha! ha! ha!"
"More people believe it is your Excellency's!" Varin knew he was
right, but aware of Bigot's touchiness on that point, added, as is
the wont of panders to great men, "It is either yours or the
Cardinal's."
"Let it be the Cardinal's, then! He is still in purgatory, and
there will wait the arrival of the Bourgeois, to balance accounts
with him."
Bigot hated the Bourgeois Philibert as one hates the man he has
injured. Bigot had been instrumental in his banishment years ago
from France, when the bold Norman count defended the persecuted
Jansenists in the Parliament of Rouen. The Intendant hated him now
for his wealth and prosperity in New France. But his wrath turned
to fury when he saw the tablet of the Golden Dog, with its taunting
inscription, glaring upon the front of the magazine in the Rue
Buade.
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