"Master," said she, suddenly casting her eyes in the street, "there
rides past one of the gentlemen who wagered on the battle between
Cerberus and the Golden Dog."
The Bourgeois had sufficient curiosity to look out. He recognized
the Chevalier de Pean, and tranquilly resumed his seat with the
remark that "that was truly one of the heads of Cerberus which
guards the Friponne, a fellow who wore the collar of the Intendant
and was worthy of it. The Golden Dog had nothing to fear from him."
Dame Rochelle, full of her own thoughts, followed with her eyes the
retreating figure of the Chevalier de Pean, whom she lost sight of
at the first turn, as he rode rapidly to the house of Angelique des
Meloises. Since the fatal eve of St. Michael, Angelique had been
tossing in a sea of conflicting emotions, sometimes brightened by a
wild hope of the Intendant, sometimes darkened with fear of the
discovery of her dealings with La Corriveau.
It was in vain she tried every artifice of female blandishment and
cunning to discover what was really in the heart and mind of Bigot.
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