I have donewith her; and the race from which she came disowns her forever."Thus it was done. Etienne was released from his chains and sent on shore.An arquebus and ammunition were given him; and resisting the impulse tosend his first shot through the heart of his tyrant, he landed, and thelast glimpse seen of the group as the _Grande Hermine_ sailed away,was the figure of Marguerite sobbing on his shoulder, and of the unhappynurse, now somewhat plethoric, and certainly not the person to be selectedas a pioneer, sitting upon a rock, weeping profusely. The ship's sailsfilled, the angry Roberval never looked back on his deserted niece, andthe night closed down upon the lonely Isle of Demons, now newly occupiedby three unexpected settlers, two of whom at least were happy in eachother.A few boxes of biscuits, a few bottles of wine, had been put on shorewith them, enough to feed them for a few weeks. They had brought flint andsteel to strike fire, and some ammunition. The chief penalty of the crimedid not lie, after all, in the cold and the starvation and the wild beastsand the possible visits of pirates; it lay in the fact that it was theIsland of Demons where they were to be left; and in that superstitious agethis meant everything that was terrible. For the first few nights of theirstay, they fancied that they heard superhuman voices in every wind thatblew, every branch that creaked against another branch; and they heard, atany rate, more substantial sounds from the nightly wolves or from thebears which ice-floes had floated to that northern isle.
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