nd the Seigneur, to give them heart,
promised a shilling, a capon, and a gallon of beer to each, if the
rescue was made. Again and again the two men seemed to sink beneath the
sea, and again and again they came to the surface and battled further,
torn, battered, and bloody, but not beaten. Cries of "We're coming,
gentles, we're coming!" from the Seigneur of Rozel, came ringing through
the surf to the dulled ears of the drowning men, and they struggled on.

There never was a more gallant rescue. Almost at their last gasp the two
were rescued.

"Mistress Aubert sends you welcome, sir, if you be Michel de la Foret,"
said Lempriere of Rozel, and offered the fugitive his horn of liquor as
he lay blown and beaten in the boat.

"I am he," De la Foret answered. "I owe you my life, Monsieur," he
added.

Lempriere laughed. "You owe it to the lady; and I doubt you can properly
pay the debt," he answered, with a toss of the head; for had not the
lady refused him, the Seigneur of Rozel, six feet six in height, and all
else in proportion, while this gentleman was scarce six feet.

"We can have no quarrel upon the point," answered De la Foret, reaching
out his hand; "you have at least done tough work for her, and if I
cannot pay in gold, I can in kind. It was a generous deed, and it has
made a friend for ever of Michel de la Foret."

"Raoul Lempriere of Rozel they call me, Michel de la Foret, and by Rollo
the Duke, but I'll take your word in the way of friendship, as the lady
yonder takes it for riper fruit! Though, faith, 'tis fruit of a short
summer, to my thinking."

All this while Buonespoir the pirate, his face covered with blood, had
been swearing by the little finger of St. Peter that each Jerseyman
there should have the half of a keg of rum. He went so far in gratitude
as to offer the price of ten sheep which he had once secretly raided
from the Seigneur of Rozel and sold in France; for which he had been
seized on his later return to the island, and had escaped without
punishment.

Hearing, Lempriere of Rozel roared at him in anger: "Durst speak to me!
For every fleece you thieved I'll have you flayed with bow-strings if
ever I sight your face within my boundaries."

"Then I'll fetch and carry no more for M'sieu' of Rozel," said
Buonespoir, in an offended tone, but grinning under his reddish beard.

"When didst fetch and carry for me, varlet?" Lempriere roared again.

"When the Seigneur of Rozel fell from his hors