Marguerite De Roberval Part 10

"You are acting wisely, n.o.ble Sieur," he said. "I have long felt that De Pontbriand there in the hold was the gravest menace to the success of our colony. Already I have discovered several plots for his release, and I have long known that only his death could bring us safety. But do not proceed with his execution till the morrow. To-night I will sound the faithful, and have them ready to strike down any one offering the least resistance. Would it not be well to have all on board witness this meting-out of justice?"

"All," exclaimed De Roberval. "Every soul, including his paramour. Leave me now, and have everything in readiness by the morning."

When the first grey of dawn was beginning to chase away the mists of the night the bell on _L'Heureux_ began to toll out across the water. Its warning notes sent a thrill of expectancy through the ship. The majority of those on board knew the meaning of that solemn knell; and the rest, when, after the accustomed eight strokes which marked the end of the watch, the bell continued its measured clanging, were filled with a vague alarm of they knew not what. The fishermen in the harbour were roused by the sound, and the crews of the boats lined their rigging, prepared, after the ghastly spectacle which had greeted them on the arrival of _L'Heureux_, to behold some new example of De Roberval's discipline.

Soon every soul on board the vessel stood on the deck, with the exception of the three women, and De Roberval, noting their absence, went below himself, and roughly ordered them to dress and come above at once.

When all were a.s.sembled, De Roberval addressed them. His face was pale and set, and his eye glittered with a cold and cruel resolve.

"You have come," said he, "to see a crime receive its just punishment, and though shame has come upon my own kindred, my hand shall not relax.

Bring the prisoner on deck."

As Gaillon and two of the crew departed to fetch Claude, Pere Lebeau, who had witnessed with horror the development of events, hastened to Roberval's side, and with his hand on his arm besought him to consider.

"Your niece is guiltless, Monsieur," he cried. "Will you bring dishonour on your name, and murder an innocent man without a trial?"

De Roberval shook him angrily off, and bade him interfere no further, or he should share Claude's fate.

"I care not for myself," said the intrepid priest. "I cannot stand by and witness a murder in cold blood. Is there no brave man in all this throng who will help me to resist this tyrant?"

Paul d'Auxhillon, and the one or two other gentlemen on board, who now for the first time realised what was about to happen, sprang forward with drawn swords, and were joined by a couple of Roberval's Picard retainers. For a moment it looked as if Claude's fate might be averted.

But Gaillon had done his work well. At a signal from De Roberval, the men who were drawn up on both sides of the deck rushed forward; the half-dozen volunteers were quickly overpowered, and after a short struggle were pinioned and rendered helpless.

Just at this moment Gaillon appeared with the prisoner. The sight of his pale face and unkempt hair, his worn, almost emaciated limbs, and bruised and swollen wrists, awakened a murmur of sympathy even among the lawless wretches who composed the crew.

Marguerite, who had stood like one in a dream while these events were taking place, realised for the first time, at the sight of her lover, what Roberval's intentions were. Her proud spirit, which had so n.o.bly sustained her throughout the voyage, gave way at last, and she threw herself at her uncle's feet, beseeching him to have mercy.

Roberval vouchsafed her no answer, but, raising her with an iron grip, he bore her half-swooning to where Marie and Bastienne were cowering together at the side of the vessel.

"Do your duty," said he to Gaillon; "and if any man raises a word of protest he shall swing from the other end of the yard."

Gaillon needed no second bidding. The noose was swiftly thrown over Claude's neck; the rope was drawn tight, and the priest, on whom no man had ventured to lay a hand, stood holding the crucifix before his eyes, and murmuring the last offices of the Church. Just as the young man was about to be swung aloft, he turned with unflinching calmness to De Roberval, and with firm, unwavering tones said:

"The son of Louise d'Artignan curses you with his dying breath! May you perish miserably by your own murderous hand!"

De Roberval's whole expression changed on the instant from cold impa.s.siveness to wild fury. He made one step forward as if he himself would have ended Claude's life with a blow, then paused--and held up his hand.

"Stay, Gaillon," he thundered. "Take the dog down! Send him back to his kennel! Your mother's cursed eyes have saved you!" he hissed at Claude.

"I shall find another way to make you suffer."

He turned on his heel, and those nearest him heard him mutter "Louise d'Artignan!" under his breath. As the words left his lips he fell headlong on the deck, foaming at the mouth.

Gaillon sent his prisoner below, drew a phial from his pocket, and forced a few drops between the n.o.bleman's tightly clenched teeth. Then he carried him to his berth, and remained by his side, watching and tending him alone; while on deck every man drew his breath more freely, and whispered words of astonishment pa.s.sed from lip to lip.

CHAPTER IX

All that day and the following night _L'Heureux_ and her consorts lay at anchor. Towards afternoon Roberval recovered sufficiently to issue commands, which Gaillon transmitted to the crew. So subdued were the men by the strange scenes they had witnessed, and so much in awe did they stand of Roberval and the terrible Gaillon, that there was none of the disorder which might naturally have been expected. Jehan Alfonse's place had been filled by an experienced and resolute seaman named Jacques Herbert, in whom Roberval had perfect confidence. Under his direction the men returned to their occupations; the prisoners of the morning were released; and soon no trace was visible of the extraordinary events which had taken place. Claude remained in the hold, and Marguerite was too ill to leave her cabin.

The next morning, when Roberval came on deck, a strong southerly wind was sweeping across the harbour. Herbert was at once ordered to get the vessel ready for sea. Crew and sailing-master were alike eager to leave the place which had been the scene of so many horrors, and willing hands soon had the sails unfurled, the anchor on the cat-head and the helm hard down, as the vessel swung round and sped away for the broad Atlantic.

"To the north," said De Roberval, as Herbert came to him to learn which direction he should take. "It is the shorter course, if the more dangerous. We will follow in the tracks of Jehan Alfonse. And I may want to touch at the barren lands of Labrador. Gold is ever found in regions of barrenness, and gold is needed for our colony."

Herbert was a rugged sailor, who thought more of a bit of salt beef and a bottle of brandy than of ingots of gold. Gold, to him, was only good for the spending; and what use it would be in the New World, where there was nothing to buy that could not be had for a few gla.s.s beads and a leaden trinket or two, was more than his intellect could conceive. He shrugged his shoulders at the n.o.bleman's whim, as he deemed it, but answered a cheerful "Ay, ay, Monsieur." And as the vessels stood out past the headland, and on towards the white stretch of rolling waters, his trumpet voice rang out: "Starboard your helm! 'Tend to the sheets!"

In a moment the gallant craft was sweeping on her northward way, with her sails swelling before the following breeze, riding over the summits of the chasing waves. All night she sailed, and all through the following day, and still the rugged sh.o.r.es of Newfoundland stood on their left. On the third day a small, misty cloud appeared on the horizon ahead. At first, the seamen thought it was another ship, but one, more keen-sighted than the others, declared it was an island.

"An island?" said a hardy fisherman who had made many voyages to the New World for fish since Columbus discovered it, "then it must be the 'Isle of Demons.' I have been on the lookout for it. The air has for some hours been hot and stifling."

"Nonsense, Laurent! It is your imagination."

"Steer away from it," insisted the sailor. "Let us hug the main sh.o.r.e. I know the spot; no vessel ever sails near it. Several did in early times, but the demons pounced upon them, shattered their crafts on the rocks, and carried off the crews to their haunts."

Others had heard of it too, and a thrill of superst.i.tious awe spread among the crew. As the distant land drew nearer, lips ever polluted with profanity, hearts black with crime, called on the saints to save and protect them; and even the sceptical Herbert, as he gazed on the dark rock crowned with curling mists, fancied with the rest that he could see weird, awful shapes hovering about the sh.o.r.e. The horror of the place seized him. He rushed to the helm, pressed it hard down, and endeavoured to give the dreaded island as wide a berth as possible.

At this moment Roberval appeared on the scene to enquire into the cause of the disturbance.

"What means this?" exclaimed he to Herbert.

"The Isle of Demons," muttered the now thoroughly alarmed sailor. "Can you not hear their fierce voices clamouring after us?"

"The Isle of Demons! What care I for all the demons in h.e.l.l? Back to your course at once; we have lost too much time already."

"But, Monsieur," said the old fisherman who had first spoken, "they have been known to utterly destroy vessels and men e'er this. Guillaume de Noue dared to defy them, and attempted to sail close to the island, but e'er his ship could reach an anchorage, she sank without a warning, bearing the entire crew down with her, excepting Guillaume, who was borne aloft by the demons, and carried to their inland abodes."

"And who," replied De Roberval, sarcastically, "can vouch for the tale, seeing all the crew perished, and the brave captain was transported to the lower world? You will have to invent some better story, good Laurent."

"Pardon, Monsieur, but I can answer for its truth. I was with Guillaume, sailing the _Belle Marie_. We were following hard after him when his vessel went down like lead, and I saw with mine own eyes good Master Guillaume borne aloft by the devils. There was no mistaking him; his red hose and scarlet hat were the only ones on board his ship. I would have attempted to rescue him, but my crew, who also witnessed the sight, fell upon me, seized the helm, and rested nor day nor night till we were safely in the harbour of St Malo, and not a man of them could ever again be persuaded to enter a craft bound for the New World."

"Pish!" said Roberval, scornfully. "Port your helm, Herbert, and steer for that island. I am master on this expedition, and if there be any demons on the land they must pay homage to me. But methinks we shall find neither the red hose of your friend, nor the abode of any demons, but a few redskins who have been blown ash.o.r.e here from Newfoundland, and dare not return."

"But, Sieur----" began the trembling Herbert.

"But not me," said De Roberval. "Port your helm, or I run you through!"

and he threateningly drew his rapier. In an instant the course of the vessel was changed, and, to the consternation of the sailors, bore down upon the haunted island. The black waters grew blacker as they drew near, and each moment they expected to find their ship sinking beneath them. The lead was thrown, but no anchorage could be found; and it was not till they were within a couple of hundred yards of the sh.o.r.e that the welcome sound of the rattling chain and dropping anchor was heard.

The land was indeed uninviting. Barren, sterile, brown as an autumn field; grey cliffs rose on all sides, the tops of which could not be discerned, for a heavy fog hung upon them and revealed only the dark base. Gulls and terns flew screaming overhead, and swooped about the strange vessel which had dared invade the sacred precincts of their island. The great waves, rolling in on the iron-bound sh.o.r.e, kept up a continuous artillery, as the mighty boulders ground along the stony beach. Dull, hollow groans issued from the many caves which time had worn in the cliffs; and the hissing of the waters, the booming of the rocks, the perpetual bellow of the waves on the sh.o.r.e, and the wild shrieks of the birds, all made it seem to the terrified seamen that they had indeed reached the abode of the Prince of Evil.

But two men were in no way affected by the scene or the uproar--Michel Gaillon and De Roberval. The latter had formed a sudden determination.

His niece and her companions must be punished. Kill them with his own hand he could not, and to put them out of the way, without making a public example of them, would be revenge without purpose; for the man, despite his mad barbarity, was convinced that he was working for great and n.o.ble ends. Now a glorious opportunity was given him to teach a salutary lesson. He would land the women on this desolate spot, giving them provisions for a year, and before that time he could return for them and bring them to his colony. This would surely establish his authority, and be a warning to all wrong-doers for the future.

He turned to Gaillon, who stood near him, smiling at the terrors of the crew.

"Get the boat ready, and order the women to prepare to land. I am going to give them a holiday on the island."