"O, dat's noting," she said. "I don't want you to be my fader. But, all de same, I tink you one very nice man; an' you safe my life; an' I sall not forget—nevare; an' I weesh—. Sall I tell you what I weesh?"
"Yes, yes," said Zac, eagerly, with a strange thrill of excitement.
Margot threw a quick look around.
"Dees Monsieur de Cazeneau," said she, drawing nearer to Zac, and speaking in a low, quick voice, "I 'fraid of heem. Dere is danjaire for my mademoiselle. He is a bad man. He haf a plot—a plan. You moos safe us. Dees Monsieur Motier is no good. You haf safe us from death; you moos safe us from dees danjaire."
"How?" asked Zac, who took in at once the meaning of Margot's words, though not fully understanding them.
"I will tell. Dess Monsieur de Cazeneau wish to get us to Louisbourg, where he will ruin us all—dat is, de ole count and de mademoiselle. You moos turn about, and take us to Boston."
"Take you to Boston! But this schooner is engaged to go to Louisbourg with Mr. Motier."
Margot shook her head.
"You moos do it," said she, "or we sall be ruin. You moos tell Monsieur Motier—"
Zac now began questioning her further; but Margot could not remain any longer; she therefore hurried away, with the promise to see him again and explain more about it; and Zac was left alone with his own thoughts, not knowing exactly what he could say to Claude, or how he could make up, out of Margot's scanty information, a story which might offer sufficient ground for a change in the purpose of the voyage.