University of Virginia Library

3. CHAPTER III.

Alphonse D'Erlach was one of those remarkable persons
who seem, in periods of great excitement, to be entirely superior
to its influence. He appeared to be entirely without emotions.
Though a mere youth, not yet firm in physical manhood, he was,
in morals, endowed with a strength, a hardihood and maturity,
which do not often fall to the lot of middle age. In times of
difficulty, he possessed a coolness which enabled him to contemplate
deliberately the approach of danger, and he was utterly beyond

surprises. His conference with old Bon Pre, when they
met again that night was remarkably illustrative of these characteristics.

“What shall we do?” demanded the old man.

“Your part is easily done,” was the reply—“you are simply
to do nothing—to forbear doing. I understand your purpose in
volunteering to do the poisoning. I will see Laudonniere in an
hour. You will prepare the coffee—nay, let Fourneaux, or that
fool of a magician himself, introduce the poison. Laudonniere
will sleep, you understand.”

“But, Le Genré—the gunpowder!”

“I will see to that.”

“What will you do?”

“Nay, time must find the answer. I am not resolved; but, at
all events, for the present, Laudonniere must know nothing. He
must remain in ignorance.”

“Why?”

“For the best reason in the world. Did he guess what we
know, he would be for arming himself and all around him—creating
a confusion under the name of law—attempting arrests, and
so proceeding as to give opportunities to the conspirators to do
that boldly, which they are now content to do basely. I think we
shall thwart them with their own weapons. Let us separate now.
I will see Laudonniere but a few moments before I sleep.”

“Can you sleep to-night? I cannot! I shall hardly be able
to sleep till the affair is over. I do not think, honestly speaking,
that I have slept a good hour for the last week. I am certainly
not conscious of having done so.”

“Nature provides for all such cases. For my part I never
want sleep—I always have it. I can sleep in a storm and enjoy

it just as well. The uproar of winds and seas never troubles me.
If it does, it is only to lull me into sleep again. I am a philosopher
without knowing it, and by accident. But come—we must
part.”

The chamber of D'Erlach was in the same building with that
of Laudonniere. They slept in adjoining apartments. D'Erlach
purposely made some noise in approaching his, and Laudonniere
cried out,

“Who is there?—Alphonse?”

“The same, sir.”

“Come in—where have you been at this hour; is it not very
late?”

“Almost time for waking—an hour probably from dawn, though
I know not exactly. But, suffer me to extinguish this light. We
can talk as well in the dark.”

“What have you to say?” demanded Laudonniere, half rising
at this preliminary.

“I have been getting some new lessons in chess from old Marchand.”

“Ah! what new lesson?” asked Laudonniere, whose passion
for the game had prompted D'Erlach with the suggestion he made
use of.

“Marchand, sir, is a most wonderful player. I have seen a
great many persons skilled at the game, not to speak of yourself,
and I am sure there is no one who can stand him. He absolutely
laughs at my opposition. I wish you could play with him, sir.”

“I should like it, Alphonse,” replied the other, “but you
know my position. This man, Marchand, is a turbulent person;
scarcely respectful to me, and, if there be, as you think, a conspiracy
on foot against me, he is at the head of it, be sure.”

“Not so;” said the other, quietly, but decisively; “not so.
His bluntness is that of an honest man. His turbulence is that
of self-esteem. He is above a base action, and, secure in his own
character, he defies the scrutiny of superiority. I think you mistake
him; at all events it is necessary that you should know him
in chess. I am anxious to see you and him in conflict; and, if
you will permit me, he shall bring his own men—for he will play
with no other—he has his notions on the point—here, to-morrow
night, when you will discover that he is not only a great player
but a good fellow.”

“You are a singular person, Alphonse;” said Laudonniere,
smiling. “What should put chess into your head at such a time,
particularly when you say there is such danger?”

“The man who can play chess when danger threatens is the
very man to discover it; and the conspirator is never more likely
to become resolved in his purpose than when he finds his destined
victim in a state of anxiety. I should rather my enemy see me
at chess—provided I can see him—than that he should find me
putting my arms in readiness. They may be conveniently under
the table, while the chess-board is upon it; and while I am moving
my pawn with one hand, I can prepare my pistol with the other.
But, sir, with your further permission, I will bring Challus and
Le Moyne to see the match. They are both passionately fond of
the game, and Le Moyne plays well, though nothing to compare
either with yourself or Marchand.”

“By the way, Alphonse, how is Le Moyne getting on with his
pictures? It certainly was a strange idea of the Admiral, that of
sending out, with such an expedition, painters of pictures and such
persons. I can see the use of a mineralogist and botanist, but—
these painters!'

“Le Moyne has made some very lovely pictures of the country.
His landscapes are to the life, and he has that rare knowledge of
the painter, which enables him to choose his point of view happily,
and tells him how much to take in, and how much to leave out.
The Admiral will be able to form a better idea of the country from
the pictures of Le Moyne, than he will from the pebbles of Delille
or the dried flowers and leaves of Serrier. Le Moyne shows him
the rivers and the trees, the valleys and the hills; and, if his pictures
get safely to France, the people there will envy us the paradise
here which we are so little able to enjoy.”

Laudonniere heard the youth with half-shut eyes, and the dialogue
languished on the part of the former; but D'Erlach seemed
resolute to keep him wakeful, and suggested continually new provocatives
to conversation, until his superior, absolutely worn out
with exhaustion, bade him go to sleep himself or suffer him to do
so. Alphonse smiled, and left the room perfectly satisfied, as he
beheld the faint streakings of daylight gliding through the interstices
between the logs of which the building was composed. In
less than an hour, hearing a sound as of one entering, he hastily
went out of his chamber, for he had neither undressed himself nor
slept, and met Bon Pre, with the salver of coffee, about to go into
the chamber of Laudonniere.

“Well, is it spiced? Has La Roquette furnished the drug?”

“His own hands put it in.”

“Very well; let us in together. Laudonniere is not likely to
awaken soon, and I will remain with him 'till he does. If the
coffee cools, and he offers not to drink, well. I will say nothing
It is best that he should know nothing 'till all's over.

“But the rest!” said Bon Pre, in a whisper.

“We must manage that, also, quite as well as this.”

“If you should want help?”

“We must find it. But the thing must go forward to the end.
Remember that! This scoundrel must be suffered to burn his
fingers.”

“Can you contrive it—you, alone?”

“I think so; but, Bon Pre, you are here, and Challus, and
Le Moyne, and Beauvais and Marchand, and, perhaps, one or two
more—true men upon whom we can rely—and these, mark me,
must be in readiness. Of this you shall learn hereafter.”

They entered the chamber of Laudonniere. He still slept.
Bon Pre placed the vessel of coffee beside him and disappeared.
D'Erlach seated himself at a little distance from the couch.
When Laudonniere wakened the liquor was cold. He laid it down
again.

“What! you here, Alphonse; but you have been to bed?”

“I do not sleep as soundly as you. I left my chamber as old
Bon Pre brought your coffee, and entered with him. You do not
drink?”

“The coffee is cold.”

“It spoils your breakfast, too, I imagine. You do not eat
heartily at breakfast.”

“No; dinner is my meal. But, Alphonse—did I dream, or
did we not have some conversation about Marchand and chessplaying
last night?”

“We did! This morning rather.”

“Is he the great player you describe him?”

“He is. I can think of none better.”

“Well—saucy as he is, I must meet him.”

“You permitted me to arrange for it, to-night. I had your consent
to bring some amateurs.”

“Yes, I do recollect something of it—Le Moyne and—”

“Challus.”

“Very well—let them come; but they must be patient. If
Marchand is such a player, I must be cool and cautious. I must
beat him.”

“You will, but you will work for it. Marchand will keep you
busy. And now, sir, there is another matter which I beg leave to
bring to your remembrance. You remember the cypress canoe
that lies upon the river banks, three miles or more above. It was
claimed by the old chief Satouriova. We shall want it here for various,
and, perhaps, important uses, when the ship sails. She will
take most of your boats with her. Let me recommend that you
send a detachment for this boat to-day. It should be an armed
detachment, for the old chief is most certainly our enemy, and may
be in the neighborhood. I would send Lieutenant Le Genré, as
he lacks employment. I would give him his choice of six or eight
companions, as, if he does not choose his own men, he might be
apt to tyrannize over those who are friendly to you. Perhaps it
would be better to give your orders early, that he should start at
noon, as, at mid-day, the tide will serve for bringing the boat up
without toil.”

“Why, Alphonse, you are very nice in your details. But, you
are right, and the arrangement is a good one.”

“The sooner Le Genré receives his orders the more time for
preparations;” said the youth indifferently.

“He shall have them as soon as I go below.”

By this time Laudonniere was dressed and they descended the
court together.

“Has he drunk,” asked Le Genré anxiously, with Forneaux and
La Roquette on each side, as they beheld Bon Pre descending

from the chamber of Laudonniere with the vessel in his hand.
The old man raised the silver lid of the coffee-pot, and showed the
contents.

“Diable!” was the half-suppressed exclamation of La Roquette.

“Enough, comrade!” said Le Genré, in a whisper—“it remains
for me.”

They separated, and entered, from different points, the area
where Laudonniere stood.

“Lieutenant;” said the latter, as Le Genré appeared in sight—
“Take six men at noon and go up to the bluff of the old chief
Satouriova and bring away the cypress canoe of which we took possession
some time since. Launch her and bring her up. The tide
will serve at that hour. Let your men be armed to the teeth, and
keep on your guard, for you may meet the old savage on your
way.

Le Genré touched his hat and retired.

“It is well, said he to Fourneaux, whom he had chosen as one
of his companions, “that the commission did not send me off at
once. I must make my preparation quickly and before I go.”

Unseen and unsuspected, Alphonse D'Erlach was conscious all
the while that the enemy was busy. But Laudonniere saw nothing
to suspect, either in his countenance, or in the proceedings of the
conspirator. At noon, Le Genré commenced his march, the only
toils of which were over, when once the canoe was in their possession.
The vessel was amply large to carry twenty soldiers as well
as six, and the tide alone would bring them to the fortress in an
hour or two.

The labors of Alphonse began as soon as Le Genré had disappeared
with his party. The six men whom he had taken with

him, were his confederates. The object of the youth was to operate
in security, free from their surveillance. Still, his proceedings
were conducted with great caution. Laudonniere neither
suspected his industry nor its object. Arms and ammunition
were accumulated in his chamber. Beauvais, and one or two
brave and trusty friends, were placed there without the privity of
any one, and the chess-party, including Marchand, Le Moyne and
Challus, were properly apprized of the arrangements for the game
between the former and Laudonniere. They were all amateurs,
and there was good wine to be had on such occasions. They did
not refuse. Alphonse took pains to noise about the expected
meeting, and its object, and showed his own interest by betting
freely upon his captain. He soon found those who were willing
to risk their gold upon Marchand; and the lively Frenchmen of
La Caroline, were very soon all agog for the approaching contest.
But the labors of the youth did not cease here. He explored the
cellar of the building in which he and Laudonniere slept, and
there, as he expected, the arrangements had been already made
for sending the Chief and himself by the shortest possible road
to heaven. A keg of powder had been wedged in beneath the
beams, with a train, following which, on hands and knees, Alphonse
was conducted under the old bath-house, till he found
himself beneath that of Le Genré. He did not disturb the train.
He simply withdrew the keg of powder, carefully putting back, in
the manner he found them, the old boxes and piles of wood, with
which the incendiary had wedged it between the beams. This
done, he rolled the keg before him over the path, by which it had
evidently come, beneath the bath-house, and to that of Le Genré.
Here he left it, still connected with the train of powder, but
rather less distant from the match than Le Genré had ever contemplated.
Perhaps, he sprinkled the train anew with fresh
powder—it is certain that he went away secure and satisfied, long
before Le Genré returned from his expedition, with the canoe of
Satouriova.