ut knew the sacredness of this perquage, though it
was ten years since it had been used; and no man, not even the Governor
himself, dare lift his hand to one upon that road.

So it was that Buonespoir and Abednego, two fugitives from justice,
walked quietly to the sea down the perquage, halberdiers, balked of
their 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
Court had promised each halberdier three shillings and all the ale he
could drink at a sitting, if Buonespoir was brought in alive or dead.

In peace and safety the three boarded the Honeyflower off the point
called Verclut, and set sail for England, just seven hours after Michel
de la Foret had gone his way upon the Channel, a prisoner.

CHAPTER VII

A fortnight later, of a Sunday morning, the Lord Chamberlain of England
was disturbed out of his usual equanimity. As he was treading the rushes
in the presence-chamber of the Royal Palace at Greenwich, his eye busy
in inspection--for the Queen would soon pass on her way to chapel--his
head nodding right and left to archbishop, bishop, councillors of state,
courtiers, and officers of the crown, he heard a rude noise at the door
leading into the ante-chapel, where the Queen received petitions from
the people. Hurrying thither in shocked anxiety, he found a curled
gentleman of the guard, resplendent in red velvet and gold chains, in
peevish argument with a boisterous Seigneur of a bronzed good-humoured
face, who urged his entrance to the presence-chamber.

The Lord Chamberlain swept down upon the pair like a flamingo with wings
outspread. "God's death, what means this turmoil? Her Majesty comes
hither!" he cried, and scowled upon the intruder, who now stepped back
a little, treading on the toes of a huge sailor with a small head and
bushy red hair and beard.

"Because her Majesty comes I come also," the Seigneur interposed
grandly.

"What is your name and quality?"

"Yours first, and I shall know how to answer."

"I am the Lord Chamberlain of England."

"And I, my lord, am Lempriere, Seigneur of Rozel--and butler to the
Queen."

"Where is Rozel?" asked my Lord Chamberlain.

The face of the Seigneur suddenly flushed, his mouth swelled, and then
burst.

"Where is Rozel!" he cried in a voice of rage. "Where is Rozel! Have
you heard of Hugh Pawlett," he asked, with a huge contempt--"of Governor
Hugh Pawlett?" Th