“Your Grace,” said he, “there be many who might better than I tell you of that America.”

“There are many who should be able, and many who do,” replied the regent.  “By the body of the Lord! we get nothing but information regarding these provinces of New France, and each advice is worse than the one preceding it.  The gist of it all is that my Lord Governor and my very good intendant can never agree, save upon one point or so.  They want more money, and they want more soldiers—­ah, yes, to be sure, they also want more women, though we sent them out a ship load of choice beauties not more than a six-month ago.  But tell me, Monsieur L’as, is it indeed true that you have traveled in America?”

“For a short time.”

“I have heard nothing regarding you from the intendant at Quebec.”

“Your Grace was not at that time caring for intendants.  ’Twas many years ago, and I was not well known at Quebec by my own name.”

“Eh bien?  Some adventure, then, perhaps?  A woman at the bottom of it, I warrant.”

“Your Grace is right.”

“’Twas like you, for a fellow of good zest.  May God bless all fair dames.  And as to what you found in thus following—­or was it in fleeing—­your divinity?”

“I found many things.  For one, that this America is the greatest country of the world.  Neither England nor France is to be compared with it.”

The regent fell back in his chair and laughed heartily.

“Monsieur, you are indeed, as I have ever found you, of most excellent wit.  You please me enormously.”

“But, your Grace, I am entirely serious.”

“Oh, come, spoil not so good a jest by qualifying, I beseech you!  England or France, indeed—­ah, Monsieur L’as, Monsieur L’as!”

“Your own city of New Orleans, Sire, will lie at the gate of a realm greater than all France.  Your Grace will hand to the young king, when he shall come of age, a realm excellently worth the ownership of any king.”

“You say rich.  In what way?” asked the regent.  “We have not had so much of returns after all.  Look at Crozat?  Look at—­”

“Oh fie, Crozat!  Your Grace, he solved not the first problem of real commerce.  He never dreamed the real richness of America.”

Philippe sat thoughtful, his finger tips together.  “Why have we not heard of these things?” said he.

“Because of men like Crozat, of men like your governors and intendants at Quebec.  Because, your Grace, as you know very well, of the same reason which sent me once from Paris, and kept me so long from laying before you these very plans of which I now would speak.”

“And that cause?”

“Maintenon.”

“Oh, ah!  Indeed—­that is to say—­”

“Louis would hear naught of me, of course.  Maintenon took care that he should find I was but heretic.”

“As for myself,” said Philippe the regent, “heretic or not heretic makes but small figure.  ’Twill take France a century to overcome her late surfeit of religion.  For us, ’tis most a question of how to keep the king in the saddle and France underneath.”