Marguerite De Roberval Part 6

And so it happened that Claude spent a large part of the winter in Picardy, watched over and waited upon, as his strength slowly returned, by the fair hands of Marguerite de Roberval and her vivacious friend and companion, Marie de Vignan.

CHAPTER VI

Winter went swiftly, and towards the spring Claude's strength came slowly back to him. The physician who waited on him, however, ordered perfect rest during the summer months; and so, when news came that Cartier had his five s.h.i.+ps all ready for sea, stored with provisions and fully manned, he had reluctantly to consent to remain behind in France.

But he was not to remain alone. De Roberval could not go to make a permanent colonisation in America without abundant firearms, artillery, and munitions of war. But the gay life of the Court had exhausted the royal treasury, and for the moment it seemed as if all his preparations had been in vain. King Francis, however, was as eager to colonise the New World as was Roberval himself, and he despatched a messenger to St Malo, commanding Cartier to start with what preparations he had made, and promising to send Roberval shortly after with three s.h.i.+ps fully equipped with powder to store a magazine, b.a.l.l.s to last for years, and guns sufficient and strong enough to ably protect the destined colony.

De Roberval was not in St Malo when the news arrived, but La Pommeraye was, and the chance to bear the message to Picardy himself was too good to be lost.

On reaching the castle he found, to his great disappointment, that Marguerite had been for some time in Paris, while Claude had long before returned to his own home in Rouen. De Roberval was still there, however, completing his final preparations for departure. He went into a white rage at the news of the enforced delay; but there was no help for it. So he sent Charles back to tell Cartier to start at once, and to expect him in the autumn. In the meantime he was to plant seed, build his forts, and make ready platforms for heavy pieces and a well-protected powder magazine.

It so happened that Marie was still at the castle. Marguerite had gone to an aunt in Paris, and her friend was to join her with De Roberval as soon as the latter had finally wound up his affairs and arranged for the management of his estate.

During the few days which Charles spent in Picardy he was thrown a good deal with Mdlle. de Vignan, and with an almost boyish impulse he took her into his confidence, and told her his seemingly hopeless love for Marguerite. In his enthusiasm he scarcely noticed how little encouragement she gave him, or else he interpreted her silence as a favourable sign. But when he was gone, the large-hearted and impressionable girl stood looking after him till he and his horse were a mere speck in the distance, and then she went to her own room, shut herself up, and wept bitterly.

One week later Cartier was on his way to Hochelaga, and Charles, sunk in reverie, stood by his side on the deck of _La Grande Hermine_, and, with eyes fixed on the sh.o.r.es they were leaving, heard not a word that Cartier uttered. The New World had lost its charms for him. His soul would know no content till he was once more back in France, or at least till he was once more within reach of Marguerite de Roberval.

Through May and June the vessels swept across the ocean, and without mishap entered the Gulf of St Lawrence, and sailed up the broad river of Hochelaga. The explorers landed at Cap Rouge, and began to clear the forest, sow turnip seed, and build forts. When the work was well under way, leaving Vicomte de Beaupre in charge at Cap Rouge, Cartier and La Pommeraye went on a voyage of exploration into the interior of the country, hoping on their return to find De Roberval at the fort.

All this time De Roberval was busy rus.h.i.+ng up and down France; but the King was slow in opening the nation's purse, and winter came without any preparations having been made to follow Cartier. Roberval chafed under the disappointment, but was powerless to do anything.

During the summer he had formed the sudden and surprising resolution of taking his niece and ward to Canada with him. The announcement of this plan occasioned a good deal of astonishment, but Roberval would listen to no remonstrances. Special accommodation would have to be arranged for them on board his s.h.i.+p, and they must learn to put up with hards.h.i.+ps, and to accustom themselves to the life of colonists. It might be years before his return to France, and he had fully decided not to leave them behind. Whatever his purpose may really have been, he had evidently made up his mind, and was not to be turned aside from his determination.

The girls themselves asked nothing better. Full of the spirit of youth and adventure, they looked forward with delight to the prospect of a share in an expedition on which the eyes and hopes of half France were centred, and eagerly they set about making their preparations for departure.

In the meantime, however, one day in the early part of November, De Roberval was surprised by a request from Claude de Pontbriand--now fully restored to health--for permission to pay his addresses to Marguerite.

His rejection of the proposal was so prompt, and couched in such emphatic terms, that Claude was utterly taken aback. He was poor, and had hesitated long to declare his love, supposing that his poverty would naturally be an objection to him in Roberval's eyes; but in respect of birth and position he was fully Marguerite's equal, and now that she was about to accompany her uncle to Canada, where, in a new sphere of life, all would be placed upon a more equal footing, he had gained courage to offer himself as her suitor. But De Roberval not only refused to listen to him, but dismissed him in such haughty terms that the young man's pride rebelled, and he demanded an explanation. High words ensued, and a quarrel was only averted by Claude's diplomacy and presence of mind in recollecting that in the event of a duel his case would indeed be hopeless. But he was at a loss for an explanation of the rude reception with which his proposal had been met.

Marguerite, however, had a key to the enigma. She had heard from her old nurse how, years before, her uncle had been madly infatuated with Claude's mother, and how that n.o.ble lady had refused his hand, and had married instead the poor but handsome young Captain Maurice de Pontbriand. The bitter grudge which Roberval owed the name had seemingly come to life again at the idea of uniting one of his family with the son of his successful rival. His temper, too, was irritated by the protracted delay in getting his expedition under way, and by the many hara.s.sments with which he was forced to contend. The discovery that Claude had already won his niece's affections added fuel to the fire of his wrath, and he forbade all further interviews or communications between the lovers.

Marguerite had so long implicitly yielded to the strong will of her uncle--whom she revered as a father, having known no other--that she never thought of attempting disobedience. She wrote to Claude, who would have persuaded her to meet him by stealth, begging him to wait, even if she had to go to America without him. For, since this quarrel with De Roberval, it would be impossible for Claude to take pa.s.sage in the same s.h.i.+p, but he could easily follow her. In the New World all the conditions of life would be changed, and, once there, they might hope to win her uncle's consent to their union.

Claude, though ill-content with this arrangement, saw nothing for it but to bide his time. He made no further effort to see Marguerite for the present, but kept a careful watch over De Roberval's movements, that he might know to a certainty when he intended to sail.

Winter came, and still the King did nothing. De Roberval was in Paris with his household, and Claude had taken up his quarters in the same city. At length tidings came which made De Roberval's heart bound with hope once more. The King had at last roused himself; nay, he had already purchased three s.h.i.+ps--three n.o.ble vessels--and they even now lay in the harbour of La Roch.e.l.le, ready for Roberval to equip and man. This was late in February. All through March the n.o.bleman superintended the storing of the powder, the loading of the guns, and the procuring of the crews. This last was no easy matter. But few of the hardy French sailors would venture on the voyage, and in despair Roberval was compelled to get together his crews and colonists almost entirely from the prisons.

Early in April everything was completed; and one bright morning the three vessels stole out through the surrounding islands, caught the last glimpse of the lantern tower, and sailed away for America. Marguerite and Marie, with the faithful Bastienne, stood on the deck of De Roberval's s.h.i.+p, gazing back at the sh.o.r.es of La Belle France. A cloud seemed to hang over their departure, and it had none of the joyous excitement they had antic.i.p.ated. Marguerite was torn asunder between her love for Claude and her ideas of duty to her uncle. A message from De Pontbriand had a.s.sured her that he intended to join the expedition, and she supposed him to have managed to embark on one of the other s.h.i.+ps; but her heart was heavy within her at the thought of her uncle's vengeance when he should find it out. She could not even be certain that he had embarked at all, and she was leaving France, perhaps for ever, without a farewell word from his lips.

Marie had her own inward perplexities. In the New World for which they were bound they would be certain to encounter La Pommeraye, and the secret she had so faithfully kept for him weighed heavily on her mind.

She had several times been on the point of telling Marguerite, but for some reason or other she shrank from uttering his name. Her feelings towards him had undergone a change, which had the effect of making her shun all mention of the man whose praises had once been perpetually on her lips. She foresaw that nothing but unhappiness for herself could result from meeting him again, and yet she could not restrain a throb of the heart when his stalwart form and handsome features rose before her.

The two girls stood in silence, their eyes fixed on the fast-receding sh.o.r.e. Old Bastienne, beside them, was dissolved in tears. She would not have deserted her young mistress; but at her age to leave her native land and face the perils of a new and unknown country was a sore trial.

As the beloved sh.o.r.es faded into a blue haze on the horizon, a familiar step was heard on the deck approaching the mournful little group.

Marguerite turned, with a sudden thrill at her heart, and beheld De Pontbriand.

Astonishment left her no words with which to greet him. Marie recovered herself first.

"M. de Pontbriand!" she exclaimed, "how did you get here?"

"Easily enough," replied Claude. "I simply came on board last night, and kept out of sight till this moment. Now that I am here, and we are so far from land, the Sieur de Roberval can hardly refuse me accommodation. I suppose he will scarcely go the length of throwing me overboard."

"You do not know my uncle, Claude," said Marguerite, anxiously. "I tremble for your first meeting with him. He is not used to being thwarted. Pray Heaven you and he may not quarrel any further. He is a dangerous man, if once his will is opposed."

Almost as she spoke De Roberval appeared on deck and at once came towards them. Then followed a stormy scene. Claude begged for an interview in De Roberval's private cabin. Alone with the indignant n.o.bleman, he tried to calm his wrath, but explanations and persuasions were alike in vain. At last, anxious on Marguerite's account, and fearing lest her uncle might suspect her of complicity in a plot to secure his presence on board, and wreak his vengeance on her as well, Claude resolved on a compromise.

"Hear me, Sieur," he said firmly, in a voice which commanded attention.

"I love your niece, as you know, and I would follow her though you took her to the end of the world. But for her sake, and to prove to you that she is innocent of all connivance at my being here, I will avoid her society for the rest of the voyage. It will be enough to see her at a distance, and to know that she is safe. You need fear no further intrusion from me, at all events until the New World is reached. I give you my word."

De Roberval's rage had so completely mastered him that speech seemed to have almost deserted him. His words came thickly.

"Go, sir," he said at last, pointing to the door, "and take heed how you break your promise. If you dare to address my niece as a lover again on this voyage, you die. And when we reach the New World I will take excellent care that you are sent about your business. Remember what I say. If I hear that you have disobeyed me I will, despite your n.o.ble blood, hang you to the yard-arm, as the first example of the fate which will surely overtake the man who dares to thwart a De Roberval."

With great difficulty Claude restrained himself under this insulting language, which nothing but his anxiety for Marguerite could have induced him to bear. He knew that De Roberval was quite capable of executing his threats; and he was sufficiently cool to reflect that if he provoked him farther Marguerite's position would be infinitely worse, while there was no hope that anything could be accomplished by force. He therefore compelled himself to bow in silence, and took his departure.

As he left the cabin, he noticed a sleek, s.h.i.+ftless-looking individual, with spy stamped on every line of his face, standing by the open gangway. He had a sickly-green complexion, and, as if to match its hue, he was clad in a shabby green jerkin, rough green cap, green doublet, and hose of the same colour. It was Michel Gaillon, the first criminal to die on Canadian soil. He had so far escaped the hand of the law, but was, even as he stood there, being hunted high and low for a brutal murder. He carried no rapier. Had he possessed such a weapon he would probably have feared to draw it lest he might injure himself; but as a poisoner he was without a peer in France. A crime had been brought home to him; he saw that it would cost him his neck; and he had contrived to stow himself away on board _L'Heureux_, and was now on his way to explain his presence to De Roberval, trusting to luck and his sharp wits to win his way into the good graces of that n.o.bleman.

He had heard every word which had pa.s.sed, and he saw at once that he would have a field for his diabolical machinations. Could Claude have seen the leer with which the ghastly apparition followed him as he pa.s.sed, he would have shuddered with a sense of approaching danger. He did not look back, however, and the Man in Green, having requested an audience with De Roberval, was admitted to the cabin.

De Roberval's hand went to his sword as he beheld the extraordinary figure and sinister countenance of his visitor.

"Who are you, and what brings you here?" said he sternly. "You are not one of my crew."

"May it please you, most n.o.ble Sieur," said the man, bowing low, "I have come to offer my services as physician to your expedition. I am well versed in drugs, and with the knife no man in France is more skilful. I have restored life to the Duc d'Orleans, when the Court physician gave him up; and----"

"Enough!" said De Roberval, who had not removed his keen gaze from the man's face for an instant. "Enough! I have heard of you. You are Gaillon, the poisoner!"

The man leaped back trembling as he heard his own name.

"I knew you the instant my eyes fell upon you," pursued De Roberval.

"You have come on board to escape the fate which awaits you in France.

If I did my duty I should order you to be thrown overboard this moment."

The wretch stood cowering.

"Most n.o.ble Sieur," he faltered, "I have fled from France to lead a new life in a new world."

"Silence, liar!" thundered De Roberval. "You have fled from France to escape death for the murder of Paul d'Auban. You see I know your character. But it has occurred to me," he went on, with a grim smile, "that I shall need an executioner in my colony before many months, and you would probably answer my purpose. Go!" he added, his brow contracting with sudden anger, "leave my sight, and look that you do not attempt any of your schemes while you are on board this vessel. As long as you do as I command you, you need fear nothing; but disobey me, and I will wind a devil's cravat round your neck, and be doing G.o.d a service by sending you from His blessed earth."

The astonished criminal slunk from the room. As he ascended the gangway he reflected to himself that in leaving his pursuers in La Roch.e.l.le he seemed to have leaped from the frying-pan into the fire. But he saw his way clearly before him. He would in the meantime obey Roberval's lightest whim; and when an opportunity presented itself he would so ingratiate himself into the good opinion of the n.o.bleman as to be made his confidant. He had unlimited confidence in his own powers, and an ambition which knew no bounds. Fate seemed to favour him. Already he had overheard an interview which had put him in possession of some of Roberval's most intimate affairs. He would bide his time, and wait for a chance to make use of his knowledge.

Some days pa.s.sed without event. Claude kept carefully to the letter of his promise, and avoided as much as possible the society of the two girls. He shared the quarters of an old school-friend, Paul d'Auxhillon, and rarely went on deck when it was at all probable that the women would be there.

They had been steering westward over moderately calm seas for nearly a week, when, on a glorious moonlight night, the breeze stiffened, and the little vessel began to pitch on the rising waves. The cabin was close at all times, but at night Claude nearly always spent most of his time on deck. On this particular night he had no desire for sleep, and midnight found him still pacing to and fro, watching the glitter of the moonlight on the dancing waters.

Just about twelve o'clock Marguerite, oppressed by the close air between decks, and rendered dizzy by the slight pitching of the vessel, stole softly from her cabin, without disturbing Marie, and sought the open air. She had not been long on deck before she became aware of the presence of a man who was not one of the common sailors. For a moment she thought the motionless figure with its back towards her was her uncle; but a second glance told her it was De Pontbriand. She moved noiselessly towards him, as he stood gazing out on the broad moonlit expanse, his thoughts occupied with the bitter fate that held him so near his love, and yet so far apart from her, and, gently touching his shoulder, she breathed his name.