"You must have been mistaken," he said to Claude. "There certainly
cannot have been anyone here. At all events," he went on, "the affair
must now be considered at an end. De Pontbriand, you must get into no
quarrels. We shall have need of all our good men if we embark upon this
Canadian expedition, which I have now in mind."

"Good, good!" cried Cartier, tossing his cap in the air like a
schoolboy. "Up with your sword, Claude, and let us get our old friend to
join us; we shall have need of him. And, La Pommeraye, beware of
bringing down on you the wrath of your friends. It is easy to fight
enemies, but he who makes an enemy of his friend loses something he can
never regain. To-morrow, then, let us meet and talk over our plans."

In a few minutes the group had separated. Cartier and De Pontbriand
escorted Roberval to his home, while La Pommeraye turned his footsteps
away from the city, and towards the broad, moonlit fields. He was
restless and disturbed. The image of Marguerite de Roberval haunted his
brain, and he could not get rid of an uneasy impression that Claude's
eagerness to defend her honour had something more behind it than mere
chivalrous gallantry. Then, too, how came she so suddenly upon the scene
of the conflict? and whither had she disappeared? He walked all night,
not caring whither, absorbed in pondering over the mysterious
circumstances which surrounded the beautiful girl who had made so strong
an impression on his imagination; and the first faint streak of dawn
found him back at the spot where the fight had taken place. Looking idly
over the wall his eye caught the gleam of De Roberval's sword full
fifteen feet below the surface of the clear water. No one was about. In
a moment he was stripped. He took one quick plunge, and the next
instant the sword was in his hand. When he returned to the city, he
waited till it was full day, and then with eager steps proceeded to the
house whither he had borne the unconscious form of Marguerite two nights
before. Hammering on the door, he waited, uncertain what to say or do,
and timid as a schoolboy for the first time in his life. The old, crusty
servant who opened the door, curtly informed him that his master was
still in bed.

"Tell him," he said, "that Charles de la Pommeraye wishes to see him in
his own room if possible."

In a moment the servant returned, and, guiding him through a long and
dark hall, brought him to a chamber hung with trophies of the figh