The Black Wolf's Breed

  Produced by Al Haines

  [Frontispiece: "Come, fellow, thou art trapped; give me up my purse."]

  The Black Wolf's Breed

  _A Story of France In the Old World and the New, happening in the Reign of Louis XIV_

  BY

  HARRIS DICKSON

  ILLUSTRATIONS BY C. M. RELYEA

  GROSSET & DUNLAP

  Publishers -:- New York

  Copyright 1899

  by

  The Bowen-Merrill Company

  _All rights reserved_

  TO THE MEMORY OF

  _BIENVILLE_

  THE SOLDIER-GOVERNOR OF LOUISIANA

  OUT OF WHOSE

  MIGHTY PROVINCE HAS GROWN NEARLY ONE-HALF

  OF THE

  WORLD'S GREATEST

  REPUBLIC

  CONTENTS

  FOREWORD

  I The Master II Bienville III Aboard Le Dauphin IV The Road to Versailles V The Decadence of Versailles VI Louis XIV VII At the Austrian Arms VIII A New Friend IX Mademoiselle X In the House of Bertrand XI The Dawn and the Dusk XII Florine to the Rescue XIII The Girl of the Wine Shop XIV The Secretary and the Duke XV New Hopes XVI The Unexpected XVII The Flight From Sceaux XVIII Serigny's Departure XIX The Castle of Cartillon XX From the Path of Duty XXI The Fall of Pensacola XXII The Contents of the Box XXIII A Note Which Went Astray XXIV The Children of the Black Wolf's Breed

  APPENDIX

  ILLUSTRATIONS

  LOI"Come, fellow, thou art trapped; give me up my purse." . ._Frontispiece_

  "What is it; what device is there?"

  "The old man gazed steadily at me for some moments."ELOI

  _FRANCE--In the old world and in the new!_

  _The France of romance and glory under Henry of Navarre; of pride andglitter under Louis XIV, in whose reign was builded, under the silverlilies, that empire--Louisiana--in the vague, dim valley of theMississippi across the sea: these are the scenes wherein this dramashall be played. Through these times shall run the tale which follows.Times when a man's good sword was ever his truest friend, when he whofought best commanded most respect. It was the era of lusty men----theweak went to the wall._

  _King and courtier; soldier and diplomat; lass and lady; these are thepeople with whom this story deals. If, therefore, you find bravefighting and swords hanging too loosely in their sheaths; if honorclings round an empty shadow and the women seem more fair than honest,I pray you remember when these things did happen, who were the actors,and the stage whereon they played._

  _THE AUTHOR._

  THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED

  FOREWORD

  _It is fitting that old men, even those whose trade is war, should endtheir days in peace, yet it galls me grievously to sit idly here by thefire, in this year of grace 1746, while great things go on in the worldabout me._

  _The feeble hound at my feet, stretching his crippled limbs to theblaze, dreams of the chase, and bays delighted in his sleep. Nor can Ido more than dream and meditate and brood._

  _News of Fontenoy and the glory of Prince Maurice thrills my sluggishblood; again I taste the wild joys of conflict; the clashing steel, thebattle shouts, the cries of dying men---yea, even the death scream ofthose sorely stricken comes as a balm to soothe my droning age. Butthe youthful vigor is gone. This arm could scarcely wield a bodkin;the old friend of many campaigns rusts in its scabbard, and God knowsFrance had never more urgent need of keen and honest swords._

  _Thus run my thoughts while I sit here like some decrepit priest,bending over my task, for though but an indifferent clerk I desire toleave this narrative for my children's children._

  _My early life was spent, as my children already know, for the mostpart in the American Colonies. Of my father I knew little, he beingstationed at such remote frontier posts in the savage country that hewould not allow my mother and myself to accompany him. So we led asecluded life in the garrison at Quebec. After the news came of hisdeath somewhere out in the wilderness, my brave mother and I were leftentirely alone. I was far too young then to realize my loss, and thememory of those peaceful years in America with my patient, accomplishedmother remains to me now the very happiest of my life._

  _From her I learned to note and love the beauties of mountain and ofstream. The broad blue St. Lawrence and the mighty forests on itsbanks were a constant source of delight to my childish fancy, and thosememories cling to me, ineffaceable even by all these years of war andtumult._

  _When she died I drifted to our newer stations in the south, down thegreat river, and it is of that last year in Louisiana, while I was yetCaptain de Mouret of Bienville's Guards, that I would have my childrenknow._

  _Along the shore of Back Bay, on the southern coast of our Province ofLouisiana, the dense marsh grass grows far out into the water,trembling and throbbing with the ebb and flow of every tide._

  _Thicker than men at arms, it stands awhile erect where the shallow seawaves foam and fret; then climbing higher ground, it straggles away,thinner and thinner, in oaken-shaded solitudes long innocent of sun._

  _Beginning on the slopes, a vast mysterious forest, without village,path, or white inhabitant, stretches inland far and away beyond theutmost ken of man. There the towering pines range themselves inever-receding colonnades upon a carpet smooth and soft as ever hushedthe tread of Sultan's foot. Dripping from their topmost boughs thesunlight's splendor flickers on the floor, as if it stole throughchancel window of some cool cathedral where Nature in proud humilityworshiped at the foot of Nature's God._

  _It was in those wilds, somewhere, the fabled El Dorado lay; therebubbled the fountain of eternal youth: through that endless wildernessof forest, plain and hill flowed on in turbid majesty the waters of DeSoto's mighty grave._