France," observed Villegagnon.

"Nay, nay, my friend," said the priest, putting his hand on the
captain's arm; "remember that the means sanctifies the end. We can
allow no Calvinists to exist, either here or abroad. They would be
continually coming back with their pestiferous doctrines, or, finding
themselves in the majority, would speedily put an end to our holy
Church. They must be extirpated, root and branch."

"I have no wish to support the Protestants, as thou knowest right well,
reverend father," answered the captain; "but they are countrymen, and
fight well, and labour well, and count among their number the cleverest
mechanics in France. I know not how it is, but it seems to me that
everywhere the most intelligent men have become Calvinists."

"Their father Satan gives them wisdom. Take care, captain, that you are
not carried away by their doctrines. The true faith will triumph,
depend on that," said the priest, frowning as he spoke.

"Your arguments are conclusive. It will not be my fault if the plan
miscarries," answered Villegagnon. "I will keep on the mask till I feel
myself strong enough to throw it off."

"You will do well. Do not be in a hurry. We must get as many of these
pestiferous sectarians into the net as possible."

Further conversation of the same character was held between the two
worthies for some time. Nigel had found himself most unintentionally
acting the part of an eavesdropper. He had at first felt inclined to
start up and make the captain and priest aware of his presence; but as
the conversation went on he felt that he was justified in thus learning
the character of the leader of the expedition, whose evil intentions he
hoped he might be the means of counteracting. He determined, therefore,
to appear to be fast asleep should they, on quitting the room, discover
him.

As he saw them rise, he closed his eyes. He heard their footsteps as
they approached the door. Just then the light which Villegagnon carried
fell upon him.

"I had no idea that anyone was in the room," whispered the captain,
holding the lamp towards Nigel.

"Who is he?" asked the priest, in a low voice.

"A young pig of a Scotchman, whom the admiral insisted on my taking on
board as an officer."

"Should he have overheard what was said, he might interfere with our
proceedings," observed the priest. "Your dagger would most speedily
settle the question, and prevent mischief."

"I am not fond of kill