her with an iron grip,
he bore her half-swooning to where Marie and Bastienne were cowering
together at the side of the vessel.

"Do your duty," said he to Gaillon; "and if any man raises a word of
protest he shall swing from the other end of the yard."

Gaillon needed no second bidding. The noose was swiftly thrown over
Claude's neck; the rope was drawn tight, and the priest, on whom no man
had ventured to lay a hand, stood holding the crucifix before his eyes,
and murmuring the last offices of the Church. Just as the young man was
about to be swung aloft, he turned with unflinching calmness to De
Roberval, and with firm, unwavering tones said:

"The son of Louise d'Artignan curses you with his dying breath! May you
perish miserably by your own murderous hand!"

De Roberval's whole expression changed on the instant from cold
impassiveness to wild fury. He made one step forward as if he himself
would have ended Claude's life with a blow, then paused--and held up his
hand.

"Stay, Gaillon," he thundered. "Take the dog down! Send him back to his
kennel! Your mother's cursed eyes have saved you!" he hissed at Claude.
"I shall find another way to make you suffer."

He turned on his heel, and those nearest him heard him mutter "Louise
d'Artignan!" under his breath. As the words left his lips he fell
headlong on the deck, foaming at the mouth.

Gaillon sent his prisoner below, drew a phial from his pocket, and
forced a few drops between the nobleman's tightly clenched teeth. Then
he carried him to his berth, and remained by his side, watching and
tending him alone; while on deck every man drew his breath more freely,
and whispered words of astonishment passed from lip to lip.

CHAPTER IX

All that day and the following night _L'Heureux_ and her consorts lay at
anchor. Towards afternoon Roberval recovered sufficiently to issue
commands, which Gaillon transmitted to the crew. So subdued were the men
by the strange scenes they had witnessed, and so much in awe did they
stand of Roberval and the terrible Gaillon, that there was none of the
disorder which might naturally have been expected. Jehan Alfonse's place
had been filled by an experienced and resolute seaman named Jacques
Herbert, in whom Roberval had perfect confidence. Under his direction
the men returned to their occupations; the prisoners of the morning were
released; and soon no trace was visible of the extraordinary events
which had taken place. Cl