Robert went away with him and he saw that Boucher, who was left behind, was frowning, but he danced with the lady and others, and as the excitement of the moment mounted again to his head he forgot all about Boucher.  He saw too that de Galisonniere had abandoned his restraint, and had plunged into the gayety with all the enthusiasm and delight of one to whom pleasure was natural.  After a while de Courcelles hooked his arm again in Robert’s and said:  “Come, I’ll show you something.”

He led the way down a narrow passage, and then into a large apartment, well lighted, though not so brilliantly as the ballroom.  A clicking sound had preceded their entrance, and Robert was aware that he was in the famous gambling room of Monsieur Bigot.  Nearly twenty men, including the Intendant himself, Cadet and Pean, were there, gambling eagerly with cards or dice.

And standing by one of the tables, a frown on his freckled face, Robert also saw the man, Boucher.

CHAPTER XII

THE HUNTER AND THE BRAVO

Robert turned away, not wishing to meet Boucher again, as he felt that the man would say something provocative, and, standing on one side with de Courcelles, he watched the players.  The air was heated, and the faces of the men were strained and eager.  It was all unwholesome to the last degree, and he felt repulsion, yet it held him for the time with a fascination due to curiosity.  He saw Boucher begin to play and as the latter held his cards, noticed again his thick and strong, but supple wrists.  Uncommon wrists they were, and Robert knew that an uncommon amount of power was stored in them.

Bigot presently observed Robert, and asked him to play, but the lad declined, and he was brave enough to say that he never played.  Bigot laughed and shook his head.

“Ah, you Puritan Bostonnais!” he said; “you’ll never learn how to live.”

Then he went back to his game.

“I think,” said Robert, upon whom the heat and thick air were beginning to tell, “that I’d like to go outside and breathe a little fresh air.”

“It is like a hothouse in here,” said de Courcelles.

“It’s but a step from this room to a little garden, where we can find all the cool air we want.”

“Then show the way,” said Robert quickly.  He was eager to escape from the room, not alone for the sake of air, but because the place choked him.  After a period of excitement and mental intoxication the reaction had come.  The colors were growing dimmer, the perfume in the air turned to poison, and he longed for the clean out-of-doors.

De Courcelles opened a small door and they stepped out.  Robert did not notice that Boucher instantly put down his cards and followed.  Before them was a grassy lawn with borders of rose bushes, and beyond, the vast sweep of the hills, the river and the far shore showed dimly through the dusk.  The air, moved by a light wind, was crisp, fresh and pure, and, as Robert breathed it deeply, he felt his head grow clear and cool.  Several men were walking in the garden.  One of them was Jumonville, and the others he did not know.