"It
is the only road left open to me, and I am going to march down it
like a garde du corps of Satan! Do not hold me, De Pean! Let go my
arm! I am going to the devil, I tell you!"
"Why, Le Gardeur," was the reply, "that is a broad and well-
travelled road--the king's highway, in fact. I am going upon it
myself, as fast and merrily as any man in New France."
"Well, go on it then! March either before or after me, only don't
go with me, De Pean; I am taking the shortest cuts to get to the end
of it, and want no one with me." Le Gardeur walked doggedly on; but
De Pean would not be shaken off. He suspected what had happened.
"The shortest cut I know is by the Taverne de Menut, where I am
going now," said he, "and I should like your company, Le Gardeur!
Our set are having a gala night of it, and must be musical as the
frogs of Beauport by this hour! Come along!" De Pean again took
his arm. He was not repelled this time.
"I don't care where I go, De Pean!" replied he, forgetting his
dislike to this man, and submitting to his guidance,--the Taverne
de Menut was just the place for him to rush into and drown his
disappointment in wine.
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