"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 noble 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, shiftless-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 nobleman.
He had heard every word which had passed, 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 passed, 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 noble 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."