De Perpignan remained on the aftercastle, leaning on his cane and contemplated what had befallen him that day. The two seamen manning the whipstaff left him to his thoughts. The seas continued to build and presented a stark picture of God's power. The symbolism was lost on the bishop as he seethed about his ill-treatment by the captain. Down on the main deck, a few hardy passengers braved the elements to get some fresh air. Down below, most of the passengers were regretting the extra portions they'd eaten earlier. Eventually, only two men remained on deck. They had been fishermen in their youth and were enjoying the evening.
De Perpignan finally tired of the relentless waves and decided to turn in. He hobbled across the deck and started to descend the ladder. Just then, the ship lurched as it sank into a deeper trough. His grip on the railing slipped and he was pitched onto the ship's rail. He still held his cane and couldn't get a grip with his free hand.
Across the deck the two passengers saw his plight. As the younger one started to go to the bishop's aid, the older man held him back. "Didn't you listen to the sermon today? He made a big deal that the Lord would raise up the righteous. Since he seems to think he's so righteous, he should have no problem raising himself back on deck."
The bishop's struggles caused him to slide further overboard. The only thing holding him was a large splinter that had caught on his stole. As the two watched, the splinter broke and the bishop plunged headfirst overboard without a sound. "Well, I guess he wasn't as righteous as he thought he was. That was definitely a downward direction. The devil seems to have taken his own." With that, the two decided to retire before someone noticed the bishop's absence.
The next morning, after breakfast, Father Valmont went to the bishop's cabin to see how he was feeling. The seas were still running high, with a near gale force wind. Many of the settlers were below decks, sick in their hammocks. He assumed the bishop was suffering from mal de mere too. He was shocked to find the cabin empty, the cot unused. He immediately went to Father Brussard's small cabin to see if the bishop might have stayed there overnight. Brussard was awake but under the weather. He was also alone. Valmont grabbed him and pulled him to the door. "The bishop is missing!" Brussard shook his head in confusion. Valmont dragged him across the hall and showed him the empty cabin. "We must notify the captain and have him organize a search." Brussard fumbled on a pair of slippers and then followed Father Valmont to the captain's cabin. His thoughts were centered on how soon he could be assigned to the bishopric office.
De Bussy was seated at his desk, updating his daily log when Father Valmont knocked. He set down his quill, after wiping it dry and answered, "Come in!" He was surprised by Valmont's appearance. "Not bad news, I hope."
"I don't know. The bishop is missing! His bed is unslept in and neither Brussard nor I have seen him since we retired to our quarters last night." Brussard arrived just then and his nod confirmed Valmont's statement. His green tinge showed that the bishop wasn't his highest priority at the moment.
De Bussy rang for his clerk. "Summon the officers. It seems the bishop is missing. Have the watch officer summon the off duty watches." After the clerk left, he spoke to both priests quietly. "I'll have the ship searched completely, but I hold little hope. He may be sick or injured someplace." After a pause he finished the thought, "Or his body is someplace out of sight. Though it's more likely he went overboard in the storm.
"I'll have the crew look for signs on what happened. After yesterday's incident, it's possible foul play is involved. I'll question anyone who may have been involved or seen something."
Two hours later, after a search that left no area unchecked, the only sign found was a small shred of cloth on the ship's rail. It appeared to have been caught on a splinter and ripped off a cloth similar in color to the cape the bishop had been wearing. The two helmsmen were questioned intensively, but all they could remember was that the bishop had spent some time on deck with Father Brussard. They remembered the priest leaving by himself, and the bishop remaining by the railing, staring out at the seas. They thought he left a short time later and they heard and saw nothing afterward. The passengers were questioned. The two that had witnessed the accident swore they heard nothing while on deck. No one asked if they had seen anything. De Bussy suspected one of the settlers may have had something to do with the disappearance, but the physical evidence of the cloth seemed to point toward an accident. Since nothing could be proven either way, de Bussy opted for the less controversial answer.
That evening, after supper, the two priests held a brief memorial service for the Bishop de Perpignan. Only the captain and the off-duty officers attended.
The next day, de Bussy rendezvoused with Admiral Duquesne's ship and had himself rowed over to deliver the news in person. The admiral shrugged the news off. "I'm surprised he lasted as long as he did. From what you say, if he'd been on my ship, I would have heaved him overboard myself. With the injuries he had, an accident is quite likely. You did all you can do. Just make sure to write up a detailed report that I can send to the cardinal when I get a chance. There's no hurry. We have weeks before we even make landfall."
De Bussy heaved a mental sigh of relief. With de Perpignan's connections to Monsieur Gaston, the admiral could have chosen to sacrifice him to deflect criticism. He boarded his boat and returned to the Grande Dame.
The Bahama Islands, May, 1634
The opportunities were there for the taking. Michel Mousnier leaned back in his chair at the wardroom table and surveyed his fellow leaders of the fleet. It promised to be an interesting day. What little breeze reached the room brought a hint of another warm day ahead. Admiral Duquesne had summoned the leaders to a final meeting, while the fleet took on water and finished minor repairs from the crossing. Amazingly, no ships had been lost. The only episode of note had been the death of Bishop de Perpignan. Michel smiled at that, since it removed Monsieur Gaston's most visible supporter in the expedition as well as someone who could have upset his plans. It had the added benefit of providing an unexpected ally. Father Brussard should prove most beneficial in the plans that were unfolding. His ambition should be easily channeled. Admiral Duquesne had given every indication that he would leave all political decisions to Mousnier and Champlain, once landfall was made. The Calverts were an enigma. They had remained apart from the rest of the fleet and seemed anxious to head north. The two frigates they were taking with them would be missed, but they should settle the issues with the northern colonies. He just had to make sure the Calverts sailed soon.
That left Champlain. Samuel seemed to have regained his old vitality as they sailed west. He was like a schoolboy going to meet his first love. The warm weather did seem to be affecting him. If Champlain could just be convinced to honor his commitment to sail for Jamestown, the southern colony would be left in Michel's care. Duquesne rapped on the table to get everyone's attention.
"I'll try to keep this brief. The day promises to be another hot one and the ships are just about ready to sail. I'm sure most of you have some last minute details to attend to." He turned to Captain Villareal. "Were you able to repair that leak that was causing so much concern? I don't want you sailing to New Amsterdam with questions on your ship's seaworthiness."
Michel held his breath. He'd heard of the problem and he wanted Villareal out of the way. Villareal nodded. "My carpenter located the problem. A butt joint had sprung. He's replaced the board and its tight now." Michel stifled a grin. With Villareal assigned to the New Amsterdam expedition, his only opposition in the fleet was now out of the picture. Villareal had made no bones that he favored Gaston.