Maitre Nicolay looked at the sky.
"There is wind enough when we once get well beyond the town; but unless we get a good start they will overtake us in boats. Is it a state affair, Maitre Perrot? For I own to you I don't like running my head against the state."
"I will tell you frankly, captain. I am the Marquis de Pignerolles. This is my daughter. The king wants her to marry a man she does not like, and I am running away with her, to save her from being shut up in a convent till she agrees."
"And this one?" Maitre Nicolay said, pointing to Rupert.
"That is the gentleman whom both I and my daughter like better than the king's choice."
"That is all right," Maitre Nicolay said. "There is no hanging matter in that. But look, sir; if you should be late, and they come up with us in boats, or warn the forts at the entrance, mind, we cannot fight; you must send us all below, with your swords and pistols, you see, and batten us down, so that we shan't be responsible, else I could never show my face in a French port again.
"Ah! Here come four of the men; yes, and two more after them. That is good.
"Now," he said, when the men came up, "not a question, not a word. There is money, but it has to be earned. Now set to work. Loosen the sails, and get all ready for casting off."
In a quarter of an hour from the moment the party had reached the Belle Jeanne eight men had arrived, and although these were but half her crew, the captain, who had been throwing himself heart and soul in the work, declared that he would wait for no more. The last rope was thrown off, and the lugger dropped out into the stream.
It was running rapidly out; and as the wind caught the sails, the Belle Jeanne began to move, standing down towards the sea.