I never told Pierre that Bigot was ever more
than the avocat du Roi in my persecution. It is what troubles me
amidst my joy. If Pierre knew that the Intendant had been my false
accuser on the part of the Cardinal, his sword would not rest a day
in its scabbard without calling Bigot to a bloody account. Indeed,
it is all I myself can do to refrain. When I met him for the first
time here, in the Palace gate, I knew him again and looked him full
in the eyes, and he knew me. He is a bold hound, and glared back at
me without shrinking. Had he smiled I should have struck him; but
we passed in silence, with a salute as mortal as enemies ever gave
each other. It is well, perhaps, I wore not my sword that day, for
I felt my passion rising--a thing I abhor. Pierre's young blood
would not remain still if he knew the Intendant as I know him. But
I dare not tell him! There would be bloodshed at once, Deborah!"
"I fear so, master! I trembled at Bigot in the old land! I tremble
at him here, where he is more powerful than before. I saw him
passing one day.
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