A quarrel was imminent; but Roberval's rage seemed to subside as suddenly as it had arisen.
"Put up your sword," he said sternly. "We are the leaders, and the death of one or both of us would mean ruin to the enterprise."
"So far as I am concerned, Sieur, it is ended already. I serve under no man, least of all under one who uses such terms as you have just applied to me. I am not hasty to quarrel, but, being in, I will come out honourably, or die."
"Admirably said," replied De Roberval, "and Canada needs just such a man as yourself. I was hasty in my speech; but I had no thought that you had disobeyed orders. I merely supposed you to have left Canada because my long delay had forced you to conclude that I had given up the enterprise. You were too quick to misinterpret me. But why have you left Charlesbourg?" enquired he, as Cartier somewhat reluctantly sheathed his sword.
"Because, Sieur, we could do no more there. The natives were unfriendly, and our ammunition was well-nigh exhausted. Our men were openly mutinous; and I could do naught with the cut-throats from the prisons, half of whom deserted, and have been adopted by wandering bands of Indians."
Whatever De Roberval may have felt on hearing this news, he gave no sign.
"Be not disheartened," he said. "I have arms in plenty, and ammunition enough to conquer all the savages on the continent. Return to your vessels, and get ready to sail back with us on the morrow. All will yet be well."
But Cartier had formed a quick resolve. He would not go back. He saw the wretched crew of criminals who lined the deck about him, and he knew that Roberval's enterprise must end in failure. He determined to gain time.
"Be it so, Sieur," he replied. "To-morrow we will be ready for the return voyage. But where is our old friend, De Pontbriand? Have you not brought him with you?"