"He hath taken the oath?" asks His Royal Highness.
"He is taking it to-night; but," laughs Sir John, "we thought he was a good Englishman once before."
"Your company used him ill. You must keep him from going over to the French again."
"Till he undo the evil he has done—till he capture back all that he took from us—then," says Sir John cautiously, "then we must consider whether it be politic to keep a gamester in the company."
"Anyway," adds His Highness, "France will not take him back."
And the door closed on the councillors while I awaited Radisson in the anteroom. A moment later Pierre Radisson came out with eyes alight and face elate.
"I've signed to sail in three days," he announced. "Do you go with me or no?"
Two memories came back: one of a face between a westering sun and a golden sea, and I hesitated; the other, of a cold, pallid, disdainful look from the royal box.
"I go."
And entering the council chamber, I signed the papers without one glance at the terms. Gentlemen sat all about the long table, and at the head was the governor of the company—the Duke of York, talking freely with M. de Radisson.