“Very well; now, as it is doubtful who are certainly the friends of Laudonniere, it is agreed that we must move against him secretly. Is there any difficulty in this? There are several ways of getting rid of an enemy without lifting dagger or pistol. Is not the magician here—the chemist, La Roquette?—has he no knowledge of certain poisons, which, once mingled in the drink of a captain, can shut his eyes as effectually as if it were done with bullet or steel? And if this fails, are there not other modes of contriving an accident? I have a plan now, which, with your leave, I think the very thing for our purpose. Laudonniere’s quarters, as you all know, stand apart from all the rest, with the exception of the little building occupied by the division of Le Genré, with which it is connected by the old bath-room. This bath-room is abandoned since Laudonniere has taken to the river. Suppose Le Genré here should, for safe-keeping, put a keg of gunpowder under the captain’s quarters? and suppose farther, that, by the merest mischance, he should suffer a train of powder to follow his footsteps, as he crawls from one apartment to the other; and suppose again, that, while Laudonniere sleeps, some careless person should suffer a coal of fire to rest, only for a moment, upon the train in the bath-house. By my life, I think such an accident would spare us the necessity of attempting the life of our beloved captain. It would be a sort of providential interposition.”
“Say no more! It shall be done!” said Le Genré. “I will do it!”
“Ay, should the other measure fail; but I am for trying the poison first;” said Fourneaux, “for such an explosion would send a few fragments of timber about other ears than those of the captain. He takes his coffee at sunrise. Can we not drug it?”
“Let that be my task;” said old Bon Pre, who had hitherto taken little part in this conference.
“You are the very man,” said Fourneaux. “He takes his coffee from your hands. La Roquette will provide the poison.”
“When shall this be done?” demanded Le Genré. “We can do nothing to-night. It will require time to-morrow to prepare the train.”
“Ay, that is your part; but may not Bon Pre do his to-morrow? and should he fail——”
“Why should he fail?” demanded La Roquette. “Let him but dress his coffee with my spices, and he cannot fail.”
“Yes,” replied Bon Pre, “but it is not always that Laudonniere drinks his coffee. If he happens to be asleep when I bring it, I do not wake him, but put it on the table by his bedside, and, very frequently, if it is cold when he wakes, he leaves it untasted.”