Could Le Gardeur be persuaded to drink a full measure to the bright
eyes of Angelique des Meloises, and could he, when the fire was
kindled, be tempted once more to take in hand the box more fatal
than that of Pandora and place fortune on the turn of a die, De Pean
knew well that no power on earth could stop the conflagration of
every good resolution and every virtuous principle in his mind.
Neither aunt nor sister nor friends could withhold him then! He
would return to the city, where the Grand Company had a use to make
of him which he would never understand until it was too late for
aught but repentance.
De Pean pondered long upon a few words he had one day heard drop
from the lips of Bigot, which meant more, much more, than they
seemed to imply, and they flitted long through his memory like bats
in a room seeking an outlet into the night, ominous of some deed of
darkness.
De Pean imagined that he had found a way to revenge himself on Le
Gardeur and Amelie--each for thwarting him in a scheme of love or
fortune. He brooded long and malignantly how to hatch the plot
which he fancied was his own, but which had really been conceived in
the deeper brain of Bigot, whose few seemingly harmless words had
dropped into the ear of De Pean, casually as it were, but which
Bigot knew would take root and grow in the congenial soul of his
secretary and one day bring forth terrible fruit.
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