Marguerite De Roberval: A Romance of the Days of Jacques Cartier

  CHAPTER VII

  Another week passed, and with the change of the moon, as the old sailorson board had prophesied, came also a change in the weather. The windrose steadily, and before long the staunch craft was creaking andgroaning as she climbed the ocean billows or slid swiftly down theirsteep sides. By the evening of the 24th the wind had increased to agale. All the upper sails had been hauled down, and the lower onesdoubly reefed; but still an occasional wave fell with a mighty crash onthe deck, swirled along the sides, and gurgled through the lee scuppers.

  At midnight Claude, true to his promise, went on deck. He had, ofcourse, no expectation of seeing Marguerite, but he had not failed tokeep his word, and be at the appointed spot each night.

  The storm was raging when he reached the deck. There was no rain, butthe sky was covered with flying clouds, through which the waning moonburst fitfully, only to be immediately swallowed up again. The hungrywaves rolled high above the little vessel, and seemed as if they wouldoverwhelm her; but she gallantly ploughed along, feeling her way like athing of life across the trackless waste of waters.

  A sailor passed Claude with a cheery "Good-night, Monsieur. A stormynight!"

  As Claude returned his salute he recognised the young Picard, BlaisePerron, whom he knew well, and who had often performed slight servicesfor him during his stay at De Roberval's castle. So great was theloneliness in which his life was plunged just now that he was gratefulfor the sound of a friendly voice, and returned the greeting with muchheartiness, adding a kindly word or two as he passed.

  He made his way with difficulty across the slippery deck. The cordagesang a wild song about him, the spray leaped stinging against his face,and the vessel groaned in every plank and spar.

  In the shelter of the forecastle there was comparative quiet and safety.A figure wrapped in a cloak was standing in the deepest shadow, andmoved towards him as he came up. He could hardly believe his senses. Itwas Marguerite!

  "My love!" he exclaimed, folding her tenderly in his arms, and drawingher farther back into the shelter. "That you should be here, and in sucha storm!"

  As he spoke, a wave struck the vessel amidships, sent the spray in ashower over them, and fell with a great thud at their feet.

  "That was a narrow escape," Claude went on. "Had we been a foot nearerthe stern we should have been dashed against the bulwarks, and the wholeship would have known of our meeting here. But what has brought you out,my darling? Is anything wrong? I shudder when I think of the risks youmust have run in getting here in this wind."

  "The storm is glorious, Claude, and a little salt water will not hurtme. I could not stay below. You will think me foolish, but I had a dreamabout you--such a dreadful dream that I felt as if I must come to seethat you were safe. I thought I saw you in the toils of a monstrousserpent. It had wound itself about you, and seemed to be crushing you inits folds. I tried to tear it off, but it seized you the closer; and asI stood back and gazed at it in horror it seemed to take the form andfeatures of that wretched creature in green who follows my uncle aboutall day like a whipped cur."

  "Sweetheart," said her lover, "it was a blessed dream, since it broughtyou to me. It gives me new life to see you. But I do not wonder that thesight of that fellow should give you nightmare. The first time I saw himI could not help christening him the sea-serpent. His baleful eye seemsto be always upon me. If I should meet him to-night I should be temptedto send him back to the ocean depths from whence he looks as if he hadbut lately come."

  "Dear, do not joke about him. I am not superstitious, but I fear thatman, and would have you be on your guard against him. It was to warn youabout him that I risked coming to you to-night."

  She was much agitated, and Claude soothed and comforted her, wrappingher cloak about her to shield her from the storm, and reassuring herwith promises and tender words.

  While this scene was taking place on deck, a very different one wasgoing on below, in Roberval's cabin. Gaillon, who must have been soconstituted that he could do without sleep, had seen Marguerite leaveher cabin and ascend the gangway. He knew that Claude had gone on deck,and there was no doubt that the lovers were together. Now was hischance. He stole to De Roberval's cabin, opened the door by some meansbest known to himself, and, entering, touched the sleeping nobleman onthe shoulder.

  Roberval was on his feet in an instant, and a dagger flashed atGaillon's throat. The man was prepared, however, and backed quicklytowards the door, where the light from the passage shone full upon hisface. Roberval uttered an oath when he saw who it was.

  "Dog of an assassin!" exclaimed he, "what brings you here?"

  "If your most noble highness will let me speak," said Gaillon, cringingobsequiously, "I have important tidings which will not keep tillmorning. Your niece is not in her room."

  "Villain!" roared De Roberval, "be careful what you say, or, by Heaven,I will run you through!"

  "Your niece, most noble Sieur, has left her cabin, and is now on deckwith her lover. They are in the habit of meeting thus at night. I wouldhave warned you before, but dreaded to call down your anger on my ownhead. Even now I would have kept silence, but the honour of your househangs in the balance."

  Roberval appeared scarcely to hear the latter part of this speech. Hehad turned his back on Gaillon, and was rapidly donning some clothes.In two minutes he was fully dressed, and, turning hastily round,exclaimed: "Who is the lookout to-night?"

  "Blaise Perron, the Picard, Sieur. He has seen them together beyond adoubt, and is now keeping watch for them against intruders."

  This was a lie, but Gaillon did not stick at trifles.

  "Get rid of him for me," said Roberval shortly. "I care not how."

  Gaillon chuckled to himself as he followed his master up the gangway.His schemes were turning out successful beyond his wildest hopes.

  "Let us steal along to windward, Sieur," he whispered. "They are on thelee side of the forecastle, and doubtless we shall come upon them in oneanother's arms."

  The noise of the wind and waves drowned their footsteps, and they wereable to approach unnoticed till they were within a few feet of thelovers. Claude had just succeeded in persuading Marguerite to go belowand try to sleep. He had taken her in his arms at parting, and she clungto him with an earnestness born of her forebodings. It was thus thatRoberval surprised them.

  The first intimation they had of his presence was an oath which soundedsuddenly out of the darkness. Claude leaped back and drew his rapier. DeRoberval stood before him with drawn sword. Unable to stand by andwitness a combat between her uncle and her lover, Marguerite threwherself between them.

  "Consider, I beg of you, Monsieur," said Claude, hurriedly; "yourniece's honour is at stake. If we attract the attention of the watchthe fair name of a De Roberval will be for ever sullied."

  Roberval lowered his weapon.

  "You say truly," he remarked grimly, "though the suggestion comes atrifle late, methinks. I should dishonour my sword to draw it on a liarand a coward. Handcuffs and the hold will be a more fitting fate forsuch as you."

  At these words even Claude's endurance gave way, and disregardingMarguerite's entreaties, he threw himself upon De Roberval. The scuffleattracted the watch, and several of the sailors came running up. In thedarkness and confusion it was impossible to distinguish anythingclearly, but Claude was soon overpowered, and De Roberval's voice madeitself heard above the roar of the elements, calling for manacles.Gaillon appeared with them as if by magic; and before the crew had timeto realise anything but the fact that their commander had beenassaulted, Claude's wrists were chained together, and he was powerless.As Gaillon finished adjusting the handcuffs, the young Picard beforementioned, who was the only other person to grasp the situation, threwhimself upon the spy, and clutched his throat. Almost as his fingersclosed they relaxed their grip again, and he fell headlong on the deck.A few moments he writhed in agony, and when he was raised it was foundthat he was quite dead, though no mark of violence could be found uponhim.

  "
It is a judgment of Heaven," said Gaillon, devoutly crossing himself.

  "A judgment of Hell, rather, from whence you came," muttered DeRoberval. "But you have done your work well. Heave the carrionoverboard," added he, giving the young sailor's body a contemptuouskick. "And now to the hold with that villain. And you," turning, to hisniece, "to your cabin with you. I shall have more to say to youto-morrow."

  The whole scene had passed so quickly that before the bewildered girlhad time to realise what had happened, she saw her lover being marchedbelow in chains. She would have rushed after him, but her uncle's stronghand restrained her, and she was forced to watch him disappear withoutbeing able even to bid him farewell.

  After this the days and weeks passed by, and Claude remained in hisprison, with no companions save the rats which swarmed about him. Hisfeet were fortunately free, or he might have been devoured. Already hisbody held the marks of their sharp and hungry teeth, where they hadattacked him while he slept. He grew thin and pale from the closeconfinement and the wretched food which was brought to him three times aday by the hands of the villain Gaillon. His heart was bitter withinhim, and he had almost abandoned hope. But for the knowledge that thevoyage must come to an end, and that some change must then take place inhis circumstances, he would have given way to despair.

  He was missed from the deck by those of the rough colonists who knew himby sight; but a rumour had gone about among the crew that he hadinsulted De Roberval's niece, and no one ventured to express pity forhis fate. The few men of gentle blood on board knew, or suspected, thetrue version of the story, but regard for Marguerite's good namecompelled them to keep silence.

  While Claude was pining in his prison Marguerite's heart was growinghard within her. She could no longer bring herself to respect her uncle.She shed no tears, nor would she listen to words of sympathy from herfriend Marie, or the old _bonne_; but her face grew pale and set, and aresolute expression formed itself about her mouth.

  The sailors revered her as a saint; and when she appeared on deck theroughest man took off his cap as she passed, and hushed the profanity onhis lips. Suspicions of the true state of the case were abroad, but noone dared to show sympathy with the prisoner. The men stood in great aweof De Roberval, and still more of the terrible Gaillon, who was dailyadvancing in favour with his master, whose devoted attendant he had nowbecome.

  Matters were still in this state, and De Roberval showed no signs ofrelenting, when, early in the month of June, the rugged shores ofNewfoundland loomed up before the grateful eyes of the crew. It was nottheir destination, but at least it was land; and although there werestill dangers to be passed, in those days it was the broad stretch ofthe ocean which tried the seamen's nerves. They hailed with joy thefirst glimpse of the New World after the terrible tedium of the voyage.

  The three vessels soon swept through the narrow entrance, and thesailors were delighted to see before them seventeen fishing-boats ridingsafely in the harbour. De Roberval cast anchor, intending to stock hisvessels with fish, and procure fresh water. But he had scarcelyfinished his preparations when a report ran through the ships that threeother vessels were entering the harbour. He knew that the Spaniards hadeyed with jealousy the expedition when it was being fitted out, andbelieved that the attack of Pamphilo de Narvaez upon him and his partyhad been intended to put an end to the venture. Thinking, therefore,that it might be an enemy who was approaching, he was about to order hismen to their guns, when the leading vessel unfurled the broad white flagstrewn with the _fleur-de-lis_ of France. His men, at the welcome sight,sent up a wild shout of joy which sounded through the harbour, and wasre-echoed from the fleet of fishermen. Whose could the ships be? HadKing Francis repented of his generosity, and sent a fleet to recall him?That could hardly be. One vessel would have been sufficient for thatpurpose. While he debated in his mind the probable destination of thefleet, the leading vessel swung round, her sails dropped, and as theanchor rattled down into the dark waters De Roberval recognised _LaGrande Hermine_. Cartier deserting his post? What could be the meaningof this?

  While the attention of every one on board the vessel was thus diverted,and not a soul was left below to observe her actions, Margueriteresolved to put into execution a plan she had long ago formed. She haddiscovered a loose board in the flooring of her cabin, and with the aidof Bastienne and Marie she now succeeded in removing it. Their unitedefforts disclosed a hole large enough for her to pass through. A hugerat rushed out as the plank was removed, causing the other two women toshriek aloud. Marguerite shuddered as she looked into the black depthsbelow, and thought of the horrors Claude must have endured all theseweeks. Unhesitatingly she lowered herself down on the rough barrels,boxes, and bags, and began feeling her way in the darkness, callingsoftly on her lover's name. For some time there was no response, but asshe reached a cleared space, the light from an opening in the deck aboverevealed Claude pacing restlessly to and fro in his narrow prison, hisears strained to catch the meaning of the sounds from above. She was byhis side in an instant.

  "Marguerite!"

  He uttered but the one word, and stood gazing at her, but withouttouching her. Coming suddenly upon him out of the darkness he took herfor a vision. But her arms were about his neck, and the warm pressure ofher cheek against his convinced him of the reality of her presence. Hecould not take her in his manacled arms; but she kissed the fetteredwrists, and wept to see the terrible difference the six weeks hadwrought in his once stalwart form. The strong young soldier himself, towhom the sudden shock of joy had come so unexpectedly after his long anddreary solitude, could not keep back the tears. Their words were few andbroken. Marguerite told him how she had found a way to reach him, andhow the other two women were keeping guard above till her return; and heshowed her the narrow space where he had walked up and down in thetwilight all these weary days, and the hard pallet where he had slept.Her tears flowed afresh at the sight. But the increasing noise on thedeck above, the sounds of heavy feet and of men shouting, recalled themto the present.

  "Where are we, dearest?" said Claude. "We cannot have reachedCharlesbourg Royal?"

  "No, would to Heaven that we had! It is Newfoundland, and my uncle hasanchored to procure fresh water. O Claude, I shudder to think what willbecome of us. My uncle is surely mad. His temper has become soungovernable that scarce a man on board dares to address him. I havethought sometimes that that wretch Gaillon, who is constantly inattendance upon him, must be keeping him under the influence of somedrug or charm which is surely sapping his intelligence. I tremble whenhe approaches, for I know not what fresh insult he may heap upon me."

  Claude ground his teeth.

  "If I were but free, and had the use of my hands for five minutes!" hemuttered. "Why did I submit to him for so long? But hark! there issurely something of unusual importance going on overhead."

  By this time a boat had put off from _La Grande Hermine_, and Cartierwas seen to enter it. Roberval stood on the poop, watching his approachin silence. Just at this moment some one touched his arm. It wasGaillon.

  "Pardon, Sieur," he murmured in the nobleman's ear, "but some one hasobtained access to the prisoner in the hold. I fear lest he may beplanning an escape."

  Roberval swore a fearful oath.

  "Here, Bruneau, Gachet!" he exclaimed to two of the roughest and mostvillainous-looking of the crew, "down into the hold with you, and fetchme hither the prisoner and whoever it is who is with him. They will lookwell from yonder yard-arm."

  He followed the men down the gangway, and stood waiting between deckswhile they descended into Claude's prison. Before the lovers couldseparate, one of the ruffians had rudely seized Marguerite by theshoulder. Claude raised his manacled arms and dealt him a blow whichsent him staggering, but was himself instantly overpowered and pinionedby the other man, Gachet. Bruneau, recovering himself, and stinging fromthe blow he had received, turned upon Marguerite, and grasping her armroughly, shouted: "Up with you to the deck, you hussy!"

  Roberval heard the words, and it
dawned upon him for the first time thatit was his niece who was below. He sprang forward in time to see her,white as death, shake the man off, and ascend the ladder alone. Besidehimself with rage as he was, he could not forget that she was a woman,and a De Roberval. Giving orders that Claude should be kept in hisprison, with frigid politeness he took her hand and conducted her to hercabin, where Marie and the old nurse, half frantic with fear at thesounds which reached them, were still watching beside the open space inthe floor.

  "So, Madame," said Roberval between his set teeth, and with a steelyglitter in his eyes, "so this is the ingenious means by which youcontrived to visit your paramour. We shall find a way to make both ofyou dearly repent your stolen interviews."

  He was gone before either of the women could utter a word, and theyheard his stern and imperious voice addressing the man who had so rudelyassaulted his niece.

  "You, Pierre Bruneau, villain and cut-throat dog, shall learn what it isto insult a De Roberval. To the yard-arm with him!" exclaimed he to themen who had gathered about the gangway. "Cartier shall see what sort ofdiscipline we keep."

  No one dared to disobey. Bruneau was hurried on deck, the noose was castabout his neck, and as Cartier drew near the vessel his astonished eyeswere greeted by the sight of the struggling form of the burly villain ashe swung aloft.

  As Cartier came on board his first words were:

  "The Sieur De Roberval gives me a ghastly welcome."

  "Such a welcome," returned De Roberval, "as awaits all who disobey myorders or insult my name. Why have you left Charlesbourg Royal?"

  "Before I answer that question, Monsieur, I must know whether your lastremark has reference to my having left my post without your orders?"

  "What you will," said De Roberval, haughtily.

  "Then, Sieur, I reserve the right to refuse an answer. I am my ownmaster on the high seas; and Jacques Cartier will brook insult from noman."

  His hand sought his sword as he spoke, and De Roberval's weapon flashedfrom its sheath.

  A quarrel was imminent; but Roberval's rage seemed to subside assuddenly as it had arisen.

  "Put up your sword," he said sternly. "We are the leaders, and thedeath of one or both of us would mean ruin to the enterprise."

  "So far as I am concerned, Sieur, it is ended already. I serve under noman, least of all under one who uses such terms as you have just appliedto me. I am not hasty to quarrel, but, being in, I will come outhonourably, or die."

  "Admirably said," replied De Roberval, "and Canada needs just such a manas yourself. I was hasty in my speech; but I had no thought that you haddisobeyed orders. I merely supposed you to have left Canada because mylong delay had forced you to conclude that I had given up theenterprise. You were too quick to misinterpret me. But why have you leftCharlesbourg?" enquired he, as Cartier somewhat reluctantly sheathed hissword.

  "Because, Sieur, we could do no more there. The natives were unfriendly,and our ammunition was well-nigh exhausted. Our men were openlymutinous; and I could do naught with the cut-throats from the prisons,half of whom deserted, and have been adopted by wandering bands ofIndians."

  Whatever De Roberval may have felt on hearing this news, he gave nosign.

  "Be not disheartened," he said. "I have arms in plenty, and ammunitionenough to conquer all the savages on the continent. Return to yourvessels, and get ready to sail back with us on the morrow. All will yetbe well."

  But Cartier had formed a quick resolve. He would not go back. He saw thewretched crew of criminals who lined the deck about him, and he knewthat Roberval's enterprise must end in failure. He determined to gaintime.

  "Be it so, Sieur," he replied. "To-morrow we will be ready for thereturn voyage. But where is our old friend, De Pontbriand? Have you notbrought him with you?"

  "He is on board," replied De Roberval, in an unmoved voice, "but he hasbeen ill, and in a high fever. Perfect quiet is ordered for him. Ishould be disobeying the physician's orders did I allow you to see him."

  Something in the metallic ring of his voice gave Cartier a cold shiverof dread, a menace of impending evil. It would have been useless toenquire further, however, and he returned to his ship to consult with LaPommeraye, his second in command, and with his other officers.