"You do not speak! Beware, René Laudonniere. We have no tender mercies! We are no children! We are ready for any crime. We have already incurred the worst penalties, and have nothing to fear. But you can serve us, living, quite as effectually as if dead. We do not want your miserable fortress. We are not for founding colonies. It is your ships that we will take, and your commission. We will spare your life for these. Beware! Let your answer square with your necessities." "Genevois!" said the prisoner, "even this shall be pardoned--you shall all be pardoned--if you will forego your present purpose." "Pshaw!" exclaimed the person addressed. "This to me! I scorn your pardon as I do your person! Speak to what concerns you, and what is left for you to do. Speak, and quickly, too, for the dawn must not find us here." "I will not sign!" said the prisoner, doggedly. "Then you die!" and the dagger was uplifted. "Strike--why do you stop?" exclaimed Fourneaux; "we can slay him, and forge the paper." His threatening looks and attitude, with the stern air which overspread the visage of Genevois, and, indeed, of all around him contributed to overcome the resolution of the wretched commander. Besides, a moment's reflection served to satisfy him, that the conspirators, having gone too far to recede, would not scruple at the further crime which they threatened. "Will my life be spared if I sign? Have I _your_ oath, Stephen Le Genevois? I trust none other." "By G--d and the Blessed Saviour! as I hope to be saved, René Laudonniere, you shall have your life and freedom!" "Undo my hands and give me the paper." "The right hand only," said Fourneaux, with his accustomed timidity. "Pshaw, unbind him!" exclaimed Genevois; "unbind him, wholly. There, René Laudonniere, you are free!" "I cannot forgive you, Genevois; you have disgraced me forever," said the miserable man, as he dashed his signature upon the paper. "You will survive it, _mon ami_," replied the other, with something like contempt upon his features. "You are not the man to fret yourself into fever, because of your hurts of honor. And now must you go with us to the ships. We will muffle your jaws once more." "You will not carry me with you," demanded the commander, with something like trepidation in his accents. "No! You were but an incumbrance. We will only take you to the ships, and keep you safe until we are ready to cast off. To your feet, men, and get your weapons ready. Softly, softly--we need rouse no other sleepers. Onward,--the night goes!--away!" XV. THE MUTINEERS AT SEA. HISTORICAL SUMMARY.