The Black Wolfs Breed

The Black Wolf's Breed, by Harris Dickson

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Title: The Black Wolf's Breed A Story of France in the Old World and the New, happening in the Reign of Louis XIV
Author: Harris Dickson
Illustrator: C. M. Relyea
Release Date: January 11, 2007 [EBook #20330]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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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 and glitter under Louis XIV, in whose reign was builded, under the silver lilies, that empire--Louisiana--in the vague, dim valley of the Mississippi across the sea: these are the scenes wherein this drama shall 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 who fought best commanded most respect. It was the era of lusty men----the weak went to the wall.
King and courtier; soldier and diplomat; lass and lady; these are the people with whom this story deals. If, therefore, you find brave fighting and swords hanging too loosely in their sheaths; if honor clings 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 end their days in peace, yet it galls me grievously to sit idly here by the fire, in this year of grace 1746, while great things go on in the world about me.
The feeble hound at my feet, stretching his crippled limbs to the blaze, dreams of the chase, and bays delighted in his sleep. Nor can I do more than dream and meditate and brood.
News of Fontenoy and the glory of Prince Maurice thrills my sluggish blood; again I taste the wild joys of conflict; the clashing steel, the battle shouts, the cries of dying men---yea, even the death scream of those sorely stricken comes as a balm to soothe my droning age. But the youthful vigor is gone. This arm could scarcely wield a bodkin; the old friend of many campaigns rusts in its scabbard, and God knows France 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 to leave this narrative for my children's children.
My early life was spent, as my children already know, for the most part in the American Colonies. Of my father I knew little, he being stationed at such remote frontier posts in the savage country that he would not allow my mother and myself to accompany him. So we led a secluded life in the garrison at Quebec. After the news came of his death somewhere out in the wilderness, my brave mother and I were left entirely alone. I was far too young then to realize my loss, and the memory of those peaceful years in America with my patient, accomplished mother remains to me now the very happiest of my life.
From her I learned to note and love the beauties of mountain and of stream. The broad