"They draw
blood!" Bigot had boasted to his familiars as he rubbed his hands
together with intense satisfaction one day, when he learned that
Philibert's large trading-post in Mackinaw had been closed in
consequence of the Indians having been commanded by royal authority,
exercised by the Intendant, to trade only at the comptoirs of the
Grand Company. "They draw blood!" repeated he, "and will draw the
life yet out of the Golden Dog." It was plain the ancient grudge of
the courtly parasite had not lost a tooth during all those years.
The Bourgeois was not a man to talk of his private griefs, or seek
sympathy, or even ask counsel or help. He knew the world was
engrossed with its own cares. The world cares not to look under the
surface of things for sake of others, but only for its own sake, its
own interests, its own pleasures.
To-day, however, cares, griefs, and resentments were cast aside, and
the Bourgeois was all joy at the return of his only son, and proud
of Pierre's achievements, and still more of the honors spontaneously
paid him.
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