I Was Young, And Consequently Very
Impressionable.
I had just left college; these extraordinary sounds
and objects would at times make me feel very uneasy.
I pressed close
to my father and dared scarcely breathe; the remembrance of this
subterranean exploration will not easily be forgotten. What were my
sensations when I saw a tombstone, the reader can imagine? 'Here we
are at last,' exclaimed my father and echo repeated his words.
Carefully did we view this monument; presently we detected the letter
'C,' nearly obliterated by the action of time; after remaining there a
few moments, to my unspeakable delight we made our exit from the
chamber of death, and stepping over the ruins, we again alighted on
the green sward. Evidently where we stood had formerly been a garden;
we could still make out the avenues, the walks and plots, over which
plum, lilac and apple trees grew wild.
"I had not yet uttered a word, but my curiosity getting the better of
my fear, I demanded an explanation of this mysterious tombstone. My
father beckoned me towards a shady old maple; we both sat on the turf,
and he then told me as follows: - You have, no doubt, my son, heard of
a French Intendant, of the name of Bigot, who had charge of the public
funds in Canada somewhere about the year 1757; you have also read how
he squandered these moneys and how his Christian Majesty had him sent
to the Bastille when he returned to France, and had his property
confiscated. All this you know. I shall now tell you what, probably,
you do not know. This Intendant attempted to lead in Canada the same
dissolute life which the old noblesse led in France before the
Revolution had levelled all classes. He it was who built this
country seat, of which you now contemplate the ruins. Here he came to
seek relaxation from the cares of office; here he prepared
entertainments to which the rank and fashion of Quebec, including the
Governor General, eagerly flocked; nothing was wanting to complete the
eclat of this little Versailles. Hunting was a favorite pastime of
our ancestors, and Bigot was a mighty hunter. As active as a chamois,
as daring as a lion was this indefatigable Nimrod, in the pursuit of
bears and moose.
"On one occasion, when tracking with some sporting friends an old bear
whom he had wounded, he was led over mountainous ridges and ravines
very far from the castle. Nothing could restrain him; on he went in
advance of every one, until the bloody trail brought him on the
wounded animal, which he soon dispatched.
"During the chase the sun had gradually sunk over the western hills;
the shades of evening were fast descending; how was the lord of the
manor to find his way back? he was alone in a thick forest; in this
emergency his heart did not fail him, - he hoped by the light of the
moon to be able to return to his stray companions.
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