"Dog of an assassin!" exclaimed he, "what brings you here?"
"If your most noble highness will let me speak," said Gaillon, cringing obsequiously, "I have important tidings which will not keep till morning. Your niece is not in her room."
"Villain!" roared De Roberval, "be careful what you say, or, by Heaven, I will run you through!"
"Your niece, most noble Sieur, has left her cabin, and is now on deck with her lover. They are in the habit of meeting thus at night. I would have warned you before, but dreaded to call down your anger on my own head. Even now I would have kept silence, but the honour of your house hangs in the balance."
Roberval appeared scarcely to hear the latter part of this speech. He had turned his back on Gaillon, and was rapidly donning some clothes. In two minutes he was fully dressed, and, turning hastily round, exclaimed: "Who is the lookout to-night?"
"Blaise Perron, the Picard, Sieur. He has seen them together beyond a doubt, and is now keeping watch for them against intruders."
This was a lie, but Gaillon did not stick at trifles.
"Get rid of him for me," said Roberval shortly. "I care not how."
Gaillon chuckled to himself as he followed his master up the gangway. His schemes were turning out successful beyond his wildest hopes.
"Let us steal along to windward, Sieur," he whispered. "They are on the lee side of the forecastle, and doubtless we shall come upon them in one another's arms."