"No, he has gone as a prisoner, under your name, with this man. Our negro fishermen accompany them to the Cayman's Creek, where the emissary will embark for the Barbadoes in one of our boats with the chevalier."
The duke could hardly believe what he heard. "Gone under my name!" cried he. "But this emissary, discovering his mistake, will be capable of killing the chevalier. By heavens! I cannot allow that! Too much blood, oh my God! has already been spilled for me."
"Blood! oh, do not fear that; the chevalier will run no danger. In spite of my desire to avert the danger that threatened from ourselves, I would never have exposed this generous man to certain destruction."
"But, unhappy woman," cried the duke, "you do not know the terrible importance of the secret of state which the chevalier is now possessed of?"
"My God! what do you mean?"
"They are capable of killing him."
"Oh, what have I done? Where are you going?" cried the young wife, seeing the duke preparing to leave the room.
"I am going to join them and save this unfortunate man. I will take some blacks with me. The Gascon has hardly an hour's advance of me."
"James, I implore you, do not expose yourself."
"What! cowardly abandon this man who has devoted himself to me? I give him up to the resentment of William's emissary? never! Ah, you do not know, unhappy child, that certain sacrifices impose on one gratitude as dolorous as remorse. Go, I pray you, tell Mirette to order some slaves to be in readiness to follow me at once. Thanks to the tide, the chevalier cannot put to sea before daybreak, I can then overtake him."