"
His bright face was in gloom for a few moments, and Robert, quick in
perception, had a sudden feeling that this brilliant Quebec, enveloped
in so much color and glamour, might not be so sound within as the
English towns to the south, despite their wrangling. But it merely
increased his anxiety to see Quebec. Life would be all the more complex
there.
The great river spread before them, blue now under a dazzling blue sky,
and the stout _Frontenac_ left a long white trailing wake. A stone
house, larger than usual, showed through the green foliage on the south
bank. Father Drouillard gazed at it, and his face darkened. Presently he
arose and shook his hand towards the house, as if he were delivering a
curse.
"The chateau that you see belongs to the young Count Jean de Mezy, a
friend of the Intendant, Bigot. Sometimes they come from their revels at
Beaumanoir to the Chateau de Mezy, and continue them there. Now you can
see why Father Drouillard, who sympathizes with our _honnetes gens_,
delivers his malediction.
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