The Battle Of The Strong [A Romance of Two Kingdoms], Volume 1.

in despair, beginning to wind in again the coil of disaster which had spun out through the helpless fing

St. Michael's Basin to those provinces where the war of the Vendee was soon to strike Fra

e hour of trouble, came, transport after transport, into the harbour of St. Heliers, they began to see visions and dream dreams. One peasant heard the witches singing a chorus of carnage at Rocbert; another saw, towards the Minquiers, a great army like a mirage upon the sea; others declared that certain French refugees in the island had th

sixteenth of December 1792, the gay morning was suddenly overcast, and a black curtain was drawn over the bright sun, the people of J

f notes and gold, which might, perchance, come with them safe through any cataclysm, or start them again in business in another world. Some began fearfully to sing hymns, and a few to swear free

ts. They gathered most where met the Rue d'Driere and the Rue d'Egypte. He

A carpenter, hearing her terrified exclamations, put on his sabots also, stooped whimpering to the stream running from the Rue d'Egypte, and began to wash his face. A dozen of his neighbours did the same. Some of the women, however, went on kn

one was shouting command to imaginary militia; there an aged crone was offering, without price, simnels and black butter, as a sort of propitiation for an imperfect past; and from a window a notorious evil-liver was frenziedly crying that she had heard

t me to proclaim liberty to the captives, and t

hrew up his arms towards the ominous gloom, and with blatant fury ordered open the priso

n'ale- drive out the devils! Free the prisoners-the poor vaurie

They crowded under the archway, overpowered the terror-stricken jail

to wear pattens in church, some profaner peasant who had not doffed his hat to the Connetable, or some slip-sh

h round forehead. The hair, a beautiful silver grey which time only had powdered, was tied in a queue behind. The little gentleman's hand was as thin and fine as a lady's, his s

icular sort of wisdom, difficult to define and impossible to imitate. He held in his hand a tiny cane of the sort carried at the court of Louis Quinze. Louis

prison and looked serenely on

ingers. "You do not seek me. I-I have no claim upon your kindness;

m some dusky wood in a painting by Claude. In the instant's pause the Chevalier Orvilliers du Champsavoys de Beaumanoir took from his pocket a

d he; "clear sun again was set for ten minutes

edly they wanted naught of him, and therefore he did not take their pres

! Away with him to the sea!" shouted the fan

o a man!" cried a drunke

l of fire at the b

he wheel of fire'll turn

as he, he grasped the gold- headed cane as one might cling to life, and declared that he was no witch, but a poor

g a little from the sun, and dread of the Judgment Day was declining; but as the pendulum swung back towards normal life again, it c

is had crossed the strait to the island the year before, to work in the harvest fields for a lesser wage than the Jersiais, and this little French gentleman must be held responsible for that. The weapon missed the Chevalier, but laid low a

lace. The Chevalier evidently knew her, for even in his hard case he smiled; and then

rough the open window of a house and forced his way through the crowd, roughly knocking from under them the feet of two or three ruffians who opposed him. He reproached the crowd, he berated them, he handle

y, that the Last Day was yet to face; the gaping, empty prison; the open windows crowded with excited faces; the church bel

watching the affray. She was leaning across the lower closed half of the door, her hands in apprehensive excitement clasp

entions, and this man, Maitre Ranulph Delagarde, was the cause of it-that was all the

he hus. Three or four men rushed forward on Ranulph. He hurled them back. Others came on with weapons. The girl fled f

ck- smith's hammer to meet the onset. "Stop, or I'll fire!" she

ere was silence-the levelled musket had a deadly look, and the girl seemed determined. Her finge

prison archway came running an officer of the King's navy with a company of sailors. The officer, with draw

tened to say that he was not at all hurt. With a droll composure he offered snuff to the officer, who decl

s breath-"I'd know her anywhere. Death and Beauty, w

" said he good-humoured

p d'Avranche, of

the Battle of Jersey, events, travel, and responsibility had altered him vastly. Ranulph had changed only in growing very tall and athle

ords that d'Avranche had said to her years before, when she was

lings moved one way or another. Then she grew suddenly serious, for the memory of the hour when he saved her from the scimit

dered them off to their homes. When they hesitated (for they were slow to acknowledge any authority save their own sacred Royal Court) the sailors advanced on them with drawn cutlasse

d turn, Monsieur d'Av

e Philip," said d'Avranche, sm

nt now," answ

as he held out his hand. Turning to the Chevalier, he said: "Monsieur, I congratulate you on having such a champion"-wi

ly bow, the three-cornered hat under his arm, the right foot forward, the thin fingers making a graceful salutation. "But I-I think -I real

nteniers are too free with their jailing here. I'l

d dubiously. "But, as a poin

our, I think you ought to breakfast. A

o spread itself abroad. It was like a second dawn after a painful night. It tinged the face of the girl; it burnished the wonderful red-b

aid to himself as their eyes

Philip d'Avranche had saved the girl from death. It galled him that then and now this young gallant should

says you must breakfast with us. Oh, but come you must, or we shall be offended!" sh

Louis Quinze cane, and taking a step towards the sombre prison archway. But Ranulph interfere

n also, Sieur

quavering voice came another,

ome, without asking,

Ranulph said cheerily, his heart beating more q