t if a breeze sprang up
Cartier meant to take advantage of it, and steal out of the harbour.

One singer after another grew weary, and towards midnight only a few
intermittent notes broke the stillness. Soon all was silent as the
grave, save for the occasional cry of some animal prowling in search of
food upon the shore.

About one in the morning a gentle breeze swept across the water from the
land. A silent signal passed between Cartier's vessels, and instantly
dark forms moved hither and thither about their decks. No sound was
heard, but preparations were being made to sail immediately. It was
impossible to raise the anchors without alarming De Roberval; so the
cables were quietly slipped, the sails were as quietly hoisted, and the
three vessels swung round simultaneously, swept within a hundred yards
of De Roberval's ship, and bore away for the harbour mouth. The lookout
saw them, but, half asleep and deeming them part of the fishing fleet,
said not a word.

In the meantime Marguerite, worn out with all she had undergone during
the day, had fallen into an uneasy sleep, broken by troubled dreams.
After the scene with her uncle, which had ended in the hanging of the
ill-fated Bruneau, she had sent for her confessor, the good Pere Lebeau,
the only priest on board _L'Heureux_. This good man, by using his
influence with De Roberval, had gained admission to Claude's prison, and
had repeatedly visited him, administering comfort and consolation, and
encouraging him to wait with hope and patience for the end of the
voyage. It so happened that he had left the ship in one of the boats
which had put off to procure fresh water; and so was not present during
the stormy scene in the hold, or the interview between Cartier and
Roberval which followed. On his return, however, he received from the
lips of Marguerite a full account of all that had taken place. He
remained with her some time, consoling and reassuring her, and left her
somewhat comforted by his promises to see De Roberval, and endeavour
once more to convince him of the mistaken course he was pursuing.

After dark, Marguerite, with Mdlle. De Vignan and old Bastienne, stole
on deck for a breath of fresh air, and to gaze with wistful eyes on
Cartier's ships. The body of Bruneau still swung from the yards, a
ghastly vision in the dim twilight. They shuddered as they saw it.

"But courage, Marguerite," whispered Marie. "Cartier is close at hand,
and he and La Pommeraye wi