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A Ladder of Swords

Chapter 6 No.6

Word Count: 3629    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

or's men. She had not sought to show her presence; she had seen him-that was comfort to her heart; and she would not mar the memory of that last night

face and hear his voice, she must needs deal kindly by him.

erted her head as tho

owed by the wood of the great elm-trees, billowed away till it was lost in faint reverberation in th

laintive, peaceful sense which the sound of the vesper-bell had thrown over Angèle's sad reflections passed away, and the thought smote her that, were it not for such as this black-toothed priest, Michel would not now be on his way to England, a prisoner. To her this vesper-bell was the symbol of tyranny and hate. It was fighting, it was martyrdom, it was exile, it was the Medici. All that she had borne, all that her father had borne, the thought of the home lost, the mother dead before her time, the name ruined, the heritage disposs

life, her father's faith, and because they had suffered and her lover had suffered. Her mind had been convinced, her loyalty had been unwavering, her words for the great cause had measured well with her deeds. But new senses were suddenly born in her, new eyes were given to her m

rms, O Lord, and save me when falling. A poor Samaritan am I. Give me the water that shall be a well of water springing up to everlasting life, that I thirst not in the fever of doing. Give me the manna of life to e

pped. Through the wood came the salt savor of the sea on the cool sunset air. She threw back her head and walked swiftly towards it, her heart beating hard, her

ng stood a man who waved a hand up towards her, then gave a peculiar call. She stared with amazement: it was Buonespoir the pirate. What did this mean? Had God sent this man to her, by his

her to England to follow the footsteps of Michel de la Forêt, who even

upon the shore, g

you, lady!

ou hither, fri

she was not thinking that this was one who superstitiously swore by the little finger of St. Peter, but only tha

Even to fetch to the Seigneur of Rozel, a friend of mine by eve

cellar of the Seigneur of St. Ouen's, where they had been reserved for a certain ro

and?" she asked, putting

gon of St. Ouen's best wine, and for an instant he did not take in the question; but he stared at her now

me, Buonespoi

-?" he qu

Engl

self to

to the

St. Ouen's and others have writ me down a pirate to her. She would not pardon th

èle, and hastily she told him of what had happe

ked, scowling hard in his

ith me-I will

think you, can I stay here unharmed? I was si

ht?" sh

"What, think you, could you and your father do alone in England? And with me it were worse than al

st in God,"

tioned-"for London, not f

," she

hty matter," he added; "but they su

she answered, sad

your father and I to the seigneur. If you can fetch your father by your pot-of

nswered, and again touched h

I will join you on the stroke of twe

aster. Two of them had served with Francis Drake in that good ship of his lying even now not far from Elizabeth's palace at Greenwich. The third was a rogue who had been banished from Jersey for an habitual

m and Angèle. "Kiss dirt, and know where duty lies. The lady's word on my ship is law till we anchor at

It flashed through Angèle's mind even as she answered the gurgling salutations of the triumvirate that they had been got together for no gentle summer sailing in the Channel. Her conscience smote her that she should use such churls; but she gave it comfort by the thought that while serving her they could do naught worse; and her caus

ad, as a fishwife carries a tray of ormers, a basket full of flagons of muscadella; and he did not lower the basket when he was shown into the room where the Seigneur of Rozel was sitting before a trencher of spiced veal and a great pot of ale. Lempr

ead?" he roared again, as Buonespo

nespoir, and lowered t

losely at it, then burst into laughter, and splutt

Eat, my noble lord of the sea and master of the cellar!" he gurgled out, and, tipping the flagon of muscadella, took a long draught. "God-a-me

r, and Lemprière burst forth into song, in the

he did hun

, come and ki

spring-time

olly shut

s was a b

all the da

ly she wa

would e'

ed in Dol

s he did h

, come and ki

rth where du

Dolly co

od is the p

where the

my Dolly

ould stay

t with Do

come and ki

xertion, mopped his forehead, th

a filly's flank!" and in spluttering words, twice bracketed in muscadella, he told of Michel

d Buonespoir, and forthwith told of his meeti

ed Lemprière, amazed. "They

t in his hand, he stuffed it into his mouth and chewed till the grease came out of

ing and laying a finger beside his nose. "Hush!" he said, again, an

e Queen, and bring thee back to Jersey, a thorn in the side of De Carteret forever! He'll look upon

ir gifts were not imitative. They were of a day when men held their lives as lightly as many men hold their honor now, when championsh

a pirate, too, no doubt; and had Buonespoir been born as high as the seigneur, he would have carried himself with the same rough sense of honor, with as ripe a vanity, have been as na?ve, as sincere,

me fifty halberdiers suddenly appeared upon the Couperon. They had at once set sail, and got away even before the sailors had reached the shore. As they had rounded the point, where they were hid from view, Abednego dropped overboard and

lt tightly about him, turned to the seigneur and said: "I will take m

answered the little man, who h

un for it, flying dot-a

d now, even as several figures appeared at a little distance in

ED TO THE PRIMIN

door and the jamb. 'Tis but a hundred yards to safety.

walked on in the order indicated, as De Ca

rgeant of the halberdie

en the sergeant of the men-at-arms recognized

spoir the pirate,"

ur, fronting the halberdiers, Bu

of St. Ouen's,

chapel and quickened his footsteps, the others but a step behind. The sergeant of the halberdiers was in a quandary. He longed to shoot, but dared not, and while he was making up his mi

s heard to open and shut, and the seigneur laughed loudly. The halberdiers ran round the chapel. There stoo

shouted Buonespoir, and the brig

llness, in which the approaching fo

" Buonespo

ur, and waved off the pikes of the hal

an old statute. The other perquages had been taken away, but this one of Rozel remained, a concession made by Henry VIII. to the father of this Raoul Lemprière. The privilege ha

gh it was ten years since it had been used; and no man, not eve

eir prey, prowling on their steps and cursing the Seigneur of Rozel for his gift of sanctuary-for the Seigneur of St. Ouen's and the royal

t called Verclut, and set sail for England, just seven hours after

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