Marguerite De Roberval: A Romance of the Days of Jacques Cartier

by Thomas Guthrie Marquis

  CHAPTER IX

  All that day and the following night _L'Heureux_ and her consorts lay atanchor. Towards afternoon Roberval recovered sufficiently to issuecommands, which Gaillon transmitted to the crew. So subdued were the menby the strange scenes they had witnessed, and so much in awe did theystand of Roberval and the terrible Gaillon, that there was none of thedisorder which might naturally have been expected. Jehan Alfonse's placehad been filled by an experienced and resolute seaman named JacquesHerbert, in whom Roberval had perfect confidence. Under his directionthe men returned to their occupations; the prisoners of the morning werereleased; and soon no trace was visible of the extraordinary eventswhich had taken place. Claude remained in the hold, and Marguerite wastoo ill to leave her cabin.

  The next morning, when Roberval came on deck, a strong southerly windwas sweeping across the harbour. Herbert was at once ordered to get thevessel ready for sea. Crew and sailing-master were alike eager to leavethe place which had been the scene of so many horrors, and willing handssoon had the sails unfurled, the anchor on the cat-head and the helmhard down, as the vessel swung round and sped away for the broadAtlantic.

  "To the north," said De Roberval, as Herbert came to him to learn whichdirection he should take. "It is the shorter course, if the moredangerous. We will follow in the tracks of Jehan Alfonse. And I may wantto touch at the barren lands of Labrador. Gold is ever found in regionsof barrenness, and gold is needed for our colony."

  Herbert was a rugged sailor, who thought more of a bit of salt beef anda bottle of brandy than of ingots of gold. Gold, to him, was only goodfor the spending; and what use it would be in the New World, where therewas nothing to buy that could not be had for a few glass beads and aleaden trinket or two, was more than his intellect could conceive. Heshrugged his shoulders at the nobleman's whim, as he deemed it, butanswered a cheerful "Ay, ay, Monsieur." And as the vessels stood outpast the headland, and on towards the white stretch of rolling waters,his trumpet voice rang out: "Starboard your helm! 'Tend to the sheets!"

  In a moment the gallant craft was sweeping on her northward way, withher sails swelling before the following breeze, riding over the summitsof the chasing waves. All night she sailed, and all through thefollowing day, and still the rugged shores of Newfoundland stood ontheir left. On the third day a small, misty cloud appeared on thehorizon ahead. At first, the seamen thought it was another ship, butone, more keen-sighted than the others, declared it was an island.

  "An island?" said a hardy fisherman who had made many voyages to the NewWorld for fish since Columbus discovered it, "then it must be the 'Isleof Demons.' I have been on the lookout for it. The air has for somehours been hot and stifling."

  "Nonsense, Laurent! It is your imagination."

  "Steer away from it," insisted the sailor. "Let us hug the main shore. Iknow the spot; no vessel ever sails near it. Several did in early times,but the demons pounced upon them, shattered their crafts on the rocks,and carried off the crews to their haunts."

  Others had heard of it too, and a thrill of superstitious awe spreadamong the crew. As the distant land drew nearer, lips ever polluted withprofanity, hearts black with crime, called on the saints to save andprotect them; and even the sceptical Herbert, as he gazed on the darkrock crowned with curling mists, fancied with the rest that he could seeweird, awful shapes hovering about the shore. The horror of the placeseized him. He rushed to the helm, pressed it hard down, and endeavouredto give the dreaded island as wide a berth as possible.

  At this moment Roberval appeared on the scene to enquire into the causeof the disturbance.

  "What means this?" exclaimed he to Herbert.

  "The Isle of Demons," muttered the now thoroughly alarmed sailor. "Canyou not hear their fierce voices clamouring after us?"

  "The Isle of Demons! What care I for all the demons in hell? Back toyour course at once; we have lost too much time already."

  "But, Monsieur," said the old fisherman who had first spoken, "they havebeen known to utterly destroy vessels and men e'er this. Guillaume deNoue dared to defy them, and attempted to sail close to the island, bute'er his ship could reach an anchorage, she sank without a warning,bearing the entire crew down with her, excepting Guillaume, who wasborne aloft by the demons, and carried to their inland abodes."

  "And who," replied De Roberval, sarcastically, "can vouch for the tale,seeing all the crew perished, and the brave captain was transported tothe lower world? You will have to invent some better story, goodLaurent."

  "Pardon, Monsieur, but I can answer for its truth. I was with Guillaume,sailing the _Belle Marie_. We were following hard after him when hisvessel went down like lead, and I saw with mine own eyes good MasterGuillaume borne aloft by the devils. There was no mistaking him; his redhose and scarlet hat were the only ones on board his ship. I would haveattempted to rescue him, but my crew, who also witnessed the sight, fellupon me, seized the helm, and rested nor day nor night till we weresafely in the harbour of St Malo, and not a man of them could ever againbe persuaded to enter a craft bound for the New World."

  "Pish!" said Roberval, scornfully. "Port your helm, Herbert, and steerfor that island. I am master on this expedition, and if there be anydemons on the land they must pay homage to me. But methinks we shallfind neither the red hose of your friend, nor the abode of any demons,but a few redskins who have been blown ashore here from Newfoundland,and dare not return."

  "But, Sieur----" began the trembling Herbert.

  "But not me," said De Roberval. "Port your helm, or I run you through!"and he threateningly drew his rapier. In an instant the course of thevessel was changed, and, to the consternation of the sailors, bore downupon the haunted island. The black waters grew blacker as they drewnear, and each moment they expected to find their ship sinking beneaththem. The lead was thrown, but no anchorage could be found; and it wasnot till they were within a couple of hundred yards of the shore thatthe welcome sound of the rattling chain and dropping anchor was heard.

  The land was indeed uninviting. Barren, sterile, brown as an autumnfield; grey cliffs rose on all sides, the tops of which could not bediscerned, for a heavy fog hung upon them and revealed only the darkbase. Gulls and terns flew screaming overhead, and swooped about thestrange vessel which had dared invade the sacred precincts of theirisland. The great waves, rolling in on the iron-bound shore, kept up acontinuous artillery, as the mighty boulders ground along the stonybeach. Dull, hollow groans issued from the many caves which time hadworn in the cliffs; and the hissing of the waters, the booming of therocks, the perpetual bellow of the waves on the shore, and the wildshrieks of the birds, all made it seem to the terrified seamen that theyhad indeed reached the abode of the Prince of Evil.

  But two men were in no way affected by the scene or the uproar--MichelGaillon and De Roberval. The latter had formed a sudden determination.His niece and her companions must be punished. Kill them with his ownhand he could not, and to put them out of the way, without making apublic example of them, would be revenge without purpose; for the man,despite his mad barbarity, was convinced that he was working for greatand noble ends. Now a glorious opportunity was given him to teach asalutary lesson. He would land the women on this desolate spot, givingthem provisions for a year, and before that time he could return forthem and bring them to his colony. This would surely establish hisauthority, and be a warning to all wrong-doers for the future.

  He turned to Gaillon, who stood near him, smiling at the terrors of thecrew.

  "Get the boat ready, and order the women to prepare to land. I am goingto give them a holiday on the island."

  This was a project after Gaillon's own heart. He rubbed his hands withfiendish delight, and set about giving the necessary orders. A boat wassoon lowered, and filled with provisions, clothing, and ammunition inplenty. Gaillon and two or three of the desperadoes whom he hadcompletely under his control, pulled ashore and landed their cargo.Roberval himself superintended the selection from the ship's stores, andthrice did he order the boa
t to return, each time with as large a loadas it could carry.

  All this time the rest of the crew stood gaping with astonishment,unable to imagine what Roberval's intentions might be, but ready, at theslightest addition to their superstitious fears, to fly into openmutiny.

  At last the boat returned from her third trip. Roberval, in themeantime, had ordered the women to get ready to go on shore, and theynow came on deck, bewildered with surprise, and uncertain what fatemight be in store for them. Roberval commanded them to enter the boat,which was now alongside. A murmur of dismay and sympathy went round thevessel, as the full horror of his project dawned upon the crew; but noman dared to interfere, save Pere Lebeau. Undaunted by his rebuff of afew days before, the priest stepped up to De Roberval, and fixing hiseyes full upon him, he exclaimed:

  "Sieur, beware what you do! What are your intentions towards thesehelpless women who have no other protector but yourself? You cannot beso lost to all sense of honour and chivalry as to abandon them to perishon this desolate shore! How can you expect the blessing of God upon thisenterprise if you wilfully do this great wrong? Take care lest theChurch should refuse to pardon you, and should cast from her fold theman who could be guilty of so monstrous a crime."

  For a moment Roberval's gaze shifted under the scathing indignation ofthe priest, then, drawing him hastily aside, he muttered in anundertone:

  "Spare your wrath, good Father; I but mean to teach them a lesson. Iwill return for them in good time--I swear it. It is but a necessarydiscipline that I would give them, so that they may learn to obey me forthe future."

  "They will die of terror!" said the priest. "You have heard the legendsof the demons who haunt the island; and how do you know to what perilsyou are subjecting them from the savages, if not indeed from evilspirits?"

  "There are no signs of habitation in the island," said De Roberval,impatiently. "My men have explored it thoroughly. No Indians have everbeen there, and a good fright will do them no harm. Demons," he went on,raising his voice so that all could hear, "what care I for demons? Ourblessed Lord cast seven of them forth out of Mary Magdalene, andmethinks that this strumpet and her companions have each seventy timesseven still in their disobedient bodies. But ashore they shall go. Pleadnot for them; your prayers will be in vain."

  The priest would have spoken further, but Marguerite, who now understoodher uncle's design, came forward with the courage and dignity whichseldom failed her, and, with head erect and unwavering voice, saidcalmly:

  "Distress yourself no longer on our account, good Father. I welcome withjoy any fate which will deliver me from the tender mercies of a tyrant.This, then," and she turned her clear gaze upon her uncle, "is thefather's care you show an orphan child? This is the protection youextend to that other fatherless and motherless girl so lately left inyour charge? Can it be that a De Roberval has sunk to so ignoble abreach of honour and faith? I pray God," she went on more softly, "thatHe may drive out the evil spirit which has possessed you, and restoreyour noble and generous nature. You are no longer the uncle I onceloved."

  She ceased speaking, and quietly allowed herself to be lowered into theboat. Marie, weeping bitterly, followed her, and finally old Bastienne,filling the air with sobs and lamentations, was deposited beside hermistress. The men took up their oars, and waited the signal fordeparture.

  Roberval was gloomily pacing the deck. His niece's words had gone home,and he was on the point of relenting. But he had already allowed hisweakness to turn him once from his purpose, and to fail again, in sightof his assembled crew, was too great a humiliation to be thought of. Hehardened his heart, and said sternly to Gaillon:

  "See them safely landed; take care that they want for nothing, andreturn quickly. We must be out of this before darkness falls. The windis rising, and I should not care to be caught on this shore should astorm come up."

  The boat made a hurried final trip, and the three women were put off onthe desolate beach. The oarsmen needed not Gaillon's words: "Back now,with might and main," to hasten them on their return journey. Theypulled for dear life; and through the overhanging mist they seemed tosee the shapes of the demons dancing weirdly down to seize their prey.Once back in the vessel the anchor was hurriedly raised, and all handseagerly assisted in the work of getting under way once more.

  But while this was taking place Roberval's heart had devised a yet morecruel vengeance.

  "Bring the prisoner on deck," he exclaimed, "and let him see the resultsof his disobedience."

  When Claude stood beside him on the high poop, he ordered him to look atthe island, where the three women stood together on the beach. The longconfinement in the semi-darkness of the hold had affected Claude'seyesight, and for a moment, as he gazed across the lines of the gleamingwaves, he could see nothing. But just as the returning boat reached theship's side, and the men hastily came on board, he caught sight of thegroup upon the shore.

  "O just God!" he cried, "can this be permitted?"

  "Thus," replied De Roberval, "a just God has made me the instrument tochastise vice. Behold, young man, the work of your hands!"

  "Were my hands free," said De Pontbriand, fiercely, "I would become aninstrument of God to rid the world of the basest liar and tyrant whoever served his master, the Devil."

  "I will be generous," said De Roberval. "Free the dog's hands, and lethim wave a last adieu to his paramour."

  The rusty lock turned, the manacles fell upon the deck, and Claude stoodfree. But free on an ocean prison, with enemies on all sides! He gaveone glance round, met the cruel eyes of Gaillon close behind him, andlike a flash plunged headlong into the ocean.

  "Shoot the villain down!" shouted De Roberval.

  One of the men seized an arquebuse, and levelled it at the strugglingform in the water. He pulled the trigger, but no sooner did the powdersplutter in the pan than the gun burst in his hands, and a piece of themetal, entering his brain, laid him dead on the deck.

  "The demons, the demons!" exclaimed the panic-stricken crew. "Thedemons claim the swimmer for their own!"

  "Let him go!" said De Roberval. "He is too weak to reach the shore. Hehas saved me the trouble of ending his life, as I should sooner or laterhave had to do. Now for Charlesbourg Royal. No man will venture toresist my will in future."

  The anchor was already raised, and in a few moments _L'Heureux_ began toforge ahead, and to widen the space between her and the accursed island.

  As Claude had stood on the poop he was plainly visible to the watcherson the shore. They saw him leap into the sea, and heard the report ofthe arquebuse. Their hearts stood still with fear: but they strainedtheir eyes eagerly across the dazzling surface of the water. Could hehave escaped? Yes, there on the summit of a wave, in the wake of therapidly retreating vessel, they saw him struggling. He was swimming. Hewas making for the shore. God help him! Holy Mother help him! BlessedJesu, guide him and give him strength!

  Old Bastienne's sobs had given place to fervent ejaculations of prayer;and as she prayed she held before her the cross which King Francis hadbestowed upon De Roberval--the precious relic said to have beenfashioned from a fragment of the true cross of our Lord.

  Bastienne was a pious soul, and, moreover, a quick-witted one. She hadheard the legends of the island, which had passed among the sailors, andwhen she grasped the fact that they were to be put ashore, she madesome excuse to return below, crept into De Roberval's cabin, and stolethe precious relic from its case, concealing it carefully in her bodice.No evil spirit could come near the place where this blessed piece ofwood might be; with this in their possession they were safe from all thepowers of darkness. She now held the cross aloft, believing that itwould give the swimmer power to reach the shore.

  Weakened by his long imprisonment, his arms almost useless through lackof employment, his strength sapped for want of proper nourishment, DePontbriand was manfully struggling with the salt, green waves. His headwas sinking lower and lower, a deadly numbness was seizing his limbs,and his heart was almost failing him wh
en his half-closed eyes caughtthe gleam of the golden cross, as the setting sun fell upon it, heldhigh in the air by Bastienne. He made no further effort to swim. A goodhundred yards intervened between him and the shore. He must husband hisstrength. The waves, he knew, would carry him ashore; and with justenough motion in his limbs to keep him afloat, he allowed himself to beborne along. But the northern water was chilling him to the marrow; andalthough he could plainly see the women on the beach, and could heartheir prayers and cries of encouragement, he felt himself sinking, andDe Roberval's prophecy seemed about to be realised. When within fortyfeet of the shore his chilled limbs relaxed, his eyes closed, and hedisappeared beneath the surface of the water.

  But Bastienne had all her wits about her. In her young days she hadplunged into the Somme as joyously as the bravest Picard lads, and oldas she was her limbs were still strong and sturdy. Without a moment'shesitation, when she saw Claude's strength leave him, she plunged intothe water, struck out boldly in his direction, and, just as he sank fromsight, her strong arm grasped him. With all her remaining strength shedragged him after her to the shore, and Marguerite and Marie rushed intothe water to their waists to help her with her burden.

  Far off in the retreating ship the watchers believed that he had beengiven a prey to the demons. Passing a headland they came upon afull-grown seal, which slid from the rocks into the sea, presenting tothem its half-human face. Believing it to be a demon, they crossedthemselves in terror, and as Claude disappeared from their sight theywere convinced that it had gone in search of him, and dragged him downinto the infernal world.

  Meanwhile, Marguerite sat on the shore, with Claude's pale face in herhands, kissing his lips and eyes, and praying the Holy Virgin to restorehim, and not to take her last hope from her.