On the 3d day of July, 1608, Champlain laid the foundation of Quebec. The name which he gave to it had been applied to it by the savages long before. It is derived from the Algonquin word _quebio_, or _quebec_, signifying a _narrowing_, and was descriptive of the form which the river takes at that place, to which we have already referred. A few days after their arrival, an event occurred of exciting interest to Champlain and his little colony. One of their number, Jean du Val, an abandoned wretch, who possessed a large share of that strange magnetic power which some men have over the minds of others, had so skilfully practised upon the credulity of his comrades that he had drawn them all into a scheme which, aside from its atrocity, was weak and ill-contrived at every point. It was nothing less than a plan to assassinate Champlain, seize the property belonging to the expedition, and sell it to the Basque fur-traders at Tadoussac, under the hallucination that they should be enriched by the pillage. They had even entered into a solemn compact, and whoever revealed the secret was to be visited by instant death. Their purpose was to seize Champlain in an unguarded moment and strangle him, or to shoot him in the confusion of a false alarm to be raised in the night by themselves. But before the plan was fully ripe for execution, a barque unexpectedly arrived from Tadoussac with an instalment of utensils and provisions for the colony. One of the men, Antoine Natel, who had entered into the conspiracy with reluctance, and had been restrained from a disclosure by fear, summoned courage to reveal the plot to the pilot of the boat, first securing from him the assurance that he should be shielded from the vengeance of his fellow-conspirators. The secret was forthwith made known to Champlain, who, by a stroke of finesse, placed himself beyond danger before he slept. At his suggestion, the four leading spirits of the plot were invited by one of the sailors to a social repast on the barque, at which two bottles of wine which he pretended had been given him at Tadoussac were to be uncorked. In the midst of the festivities, the "four worthy heads of the conspiracy," as Champlain satirically calls them, were suddenly clapped into irons. It was now late in the evening, but Champlain nevertheless summoned all the rest of the men into his presence, and offered them a full pardon, on condition that they would disclose the whole scheme and the motives which had induced them to engage in it. This they were eager to do, as they now began to comprehend the dangerous compact into which they had entered, and the peril which threatened their own lives. These preliminary investigations rendered it obvious to Champlain that grave consequences must follow, and he therefore proceeded with great caution.