"It was Alain Le Gallais," answered Pierre in a low voice.

"It was Alain Le Gallais? Write, Master Greffier, the prisoner says that the letters were carried by one Alain Le Gallais. You are sure of that, Benoist?"

"As sure as my name is Peter." A c.o.c.k crew in the yard of the castle.

The coincidence did not seem to strike any of the party in the room.

"By what route did Le Gallais go?"

"He went by Boulay Bay."

"By what conveyance?"

"By Lesbirel's lugger."

"When did he go last?"

"This is the fourth day."

Carteret compared these replies with some that lay before him, and proceeded:--

"Do you know when he will return?"

"I cannot know; but I can divine. The wind is changing; if he landed at Southampton on Monday night he would be in London in twenty-four hours, riding on the horses of the Parliament. Riding back in the same way he might be back in Boulay Bay, with a fair wind, some time to-morrow."

"_C'est a.s.sez_," said the Governor, "take the prisoner away; but not to his former quarters. Lodge him in Prynne's old cell."

As the prisoner was being removed, in obedience to these orders, he was seen to limp heavily, and there was a bandage on one of his legs.

"March, comrade," said one of his guards, when they were in the corridor.

"My leg was hurt, John Le Gros, when I tried to escape last night."

"Not so badly but you can walk if you like," and the militia-man emphasised his words by a slight thrust with the point of his weapon.

To which of the parties in the island Master Benoist was faithful, the muse that presides over this history declines to reveal: perhaps he was an impartial traitor to both. It became presently clear that, in any case, his lameness was little more than a feint. During that same night he made a rope of his bedding, and letting himself down from the window of his cell at high water, swam like a fish to the unwatched sh.o.r.e of Anneport, and so effected his escape. It was long ere he was again heard of by the Jersey authorities; but there is no record to show that he was either mourned or missed.

For the next three nights a party of soldiers--not militia-men, but Cornishmen of the Royal body-guard--occupied a hut on the landing-place at Boulay Bay, belonging to Lesbirel, the man whose lugger was known to be employed in the communication between the Parliamentary party in the island and their English allies. The third night being dark and stormy, the patrol was suspended by orders of the sergeant in command, and the men devoted themselves to the indoor pleasures afforded by cards, tobacco, and cider. But others were less careful of personal comfort. On the western point of the cliff over their heads (the "Belle Hougue") a beacon was burning, of whose existence the sergeant and his men were unaware. A man watched by the fire, keeping it alive by constant care and attention, or rekindling it from time to time, when it was overcome by the wind and rain. The soldiers in their hut did not see the light; but it was seen by the crew of a lugger, driving through the waves of the flowing tide before a rough but favouring gale. Accordingly, putting the helm down, their steersman drove the craft clear of the threatened danger that was prepared for the occupants below, and made her touch the land in the adjacent bay of Bonne Nuit, hid from observation by the interposing cliffs. Leaping to the sh.o.r.e, Alain Le Gallais, who was the sole pa.s.senger, climbing the western heights, made his way by paths with which he was well acquainted from his youth, to the manor-house of his exiled friend the Seigneur of Maufant.

It was near midnight when he arrived. All was dark. The yard-dog, roused by his familiar footsteps, shook himself and sate down without raising any alarm: nay, when Alain lifted the latch and pa.s.sed through the outer gate of the court-yard, the animal rose once more, and advanced to meet Alain, fawning and wagging his tail. Alain was not sorry that the ladies were asleep. Perhaps the readers of his verses may not have understood that he was a poet; but, be it remembered, those verses were in a language not native to the writer. Those who are able to understand such fragments of his patois-poetry as still survive, declare that it is marked by tenderness and _verve_; even if this be not so, a man may lack the power of expression and yet have the poet's temper; Alain was certainly of a deep and sensitive nature; he thought that he had borne much from Marguerite, with whom he was now really angry; it was therefore of set purpose that he had chosen this hour to visit the manor instead of waiting till the morning. Depositing a letter with which Lempriere had entrusted him in a cornbin of the stable which Mdme. de Maufant had instructed him to use in such cases, he went his way without disturbing any of the inmates of the house.

His intention was to pa.s.s the rest of the night in the barn of a farm called La Rosiere, where he would be safe from pursuit for the moment, and in the morning could join a party of the "well-affected," who were in the habit of meeting in the neighbouring parish of S. Lawrence. Man proposes; but his purpose was destined to failure. The sky had cleared in the sudden way so common at midnight in these islands. The guard at Lesbirel's, turning out to patrol, had at last caught sight of the fire burning on the point above them. Taking alarm, the sergeant, who was an intelligent and aspiring soldier, guessed that something was amiss, and set off at the head of his men to search for the escaped prey. Taking the road to the manor, where he had reason to believe Lempriere's messenger would be found, and spreading his men among the shadows of the bordering walls and hedges, he came upon the fugitive in a lane. To his challenge, "Who goes there?" he received for answer a pistol-shot, which laid him low in the mire of the lane, with a great flesh wound in the right shoulder; but the soldiers hearing the report ran up from both sides. Le Gallais was overpowered and secured after a brief resistance.

"Search him and take him to the governor," said the wounded sergeant, as he swooned from loss of blood.

The following morning found Sir George and his clerk in their old places in the Gorey Castle. Pale and draggled, Le Gallais confronted his examiners with such firmness as he could gather from a good cause.

"You have nothing against me, Messire de Carteret," he said firmly.

"If I have not I shall soon make it," said the governor fiercely.

"Whence were you coming when you pistolled my sergeant?"

"I was going to join my company of militia, in order to be present at morning exercise," answered the prisoner, undauntedly. "Your sergeant laid hands on me without warrant or warning on a public thoroughfare, and I shot him in self-defence. What would you have done in my place?"

"Insolence will not avail you. If you would save yourself from the gallows, you have but one way. You must make a clean breast of it."

Le Gallais made no answer, but stooping down, drew a letter out of his boot and threw it on the table. The governor started as he read the address:--

"For the honoured hands of Sir George Carteret, Knight and Baronet, these."

He cut the string and opened the missive. After reading a few lines he looked up.

"Clear the room," he said; and as the clerk and guards obeyed, he added, in a changed tone:--

"Be seated, M. Le Gallais!

"This letter, as you probably know, is from Mr. Prynne, of the Parliament. Why did you not bring it to me at once?"

"I should have done so," answered Le Gallais.

"It contains matter of the utmost moment," added the governor, after finishing the perusal. "Are you aware of its contents?"

"Of its general purport, yes," answered Le Gallais. "The emissaries of Queen Henrietta are due from S. Malo this day. They will not go to you (unless they are forced) nor yet to Mr. Secretary Nicholas. They are the bringers of a secret communication from the queen mother to her son. You see, sir, that I may be trusted."

"By the faith of a gentleman, it is too strong," cried the governor, in an impa.s.sioned voice. "Was ever honour or grat.i.tude known among that family? But I care not. Your friends, M. Le Gallais, are my enemies. If Whitelock and company send to this island all the rebels outside the gates of h.e.l.l I will fight them. You may depart and take them that message from me."

Le Gallais did not move. "But in case of a French force landing--?"

"In that case, sir," answered the governor, and his voice rose to a quarter-deck shout. "In that case it would be 'up with the red cross ensign and England for ever!'"

Le Gallais rose and in a gentler tone echoed the cry, sharing the generous impulse.

"Now go," said the governor, more gently, "go to the b.u.t.tery and get thyself refreshed. I know what a sailor's appet.i.te can be. No words; you came from England last night. G.o.d bless England and all her friends!"

So saying the governor departed, and in a few minutes more was seen to mount his horse at the fort gate and gallop towards S. Helier, followed by a single orderly.

Immediately on arriving at the town, Sir George's first care was to send his follower to the Denonciateur and order him to summon an extraordinary meeting of the States. After which be went on to the Castle and demanded an immediate audience of the King.

Charles was sitting in his chamber, indolently tr.i.m.m.i.n.g his nails. A tall swash-buckler, with a red nose and a black patch over his eye, was with him, also seated and conversing with familiar earnestness, as the governor entered.

"How now?" asked the King, with some show of energy; "To what are we indebted for the honour of this sudden visit? Were you not told, Sir George, that we were giving private audience to Major Querto?"

"Faith I was, Sir," answered Carteret, with a seaman's bluntness. "But, under your pardon, I am Lieutenant-Governor of this island and Castle; I know the matter on which Major Querto hath audience, and it is not one that ought to be debated in my absence."

Charles looked at Carteret with a mixture of impatience and _ennui_. But the Governor was not a man to be daunted by looks; and with Charles, the last speaker usually prevailed, unless he was much less energetic than in the present instance.

"If there be any man more ready to lay down life in your Majesty's service than George Carteret, I willingly leave you in his hands. But your Majesty knows that there is not. I am here to claim that the message from the Queen be laid before the States. We are your Majesty's to deal with; but if we are to help, we must know in what our help is required."

Charles gave way before a will far stronger and a principle far higher than his own.