Without
debating a useless point of morals, Bigot quietly resigned himself
to the service of his masters, or rather mistresses, after he had
first served himself.
If the enormous plunder made out of the administration of the war by
the great monopoly he had established were suddenly to cease, Bigot
felt that his genius would be put to a severe test. But he had no
misgivings, because he had no scruples. He was not the man to go
under in any storm. He would light upon his feet, as he expressed
it, if the world turned upside down.
Bigot suddenly stopped in his walk. His mind had been dwelling upon
the great affairs of his Intendancy and the mad policy of the Court
of Versailles. A new thought struck him. He turned and looked
fixedly at his Secretary.
"De Pean!" said he. "We have not a sure hold of the Chevalier de
Repentigny! That young fellow plays fast and loose with us. One
who dines with me at the palace and sups with the Philiberts at the
Chien d'Or cannot be a safe partner in the Grand Company!"
"I have small confidence in him, either," replied De Pean.
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