were heavy or
light," replied Detricand, lifting a shoulder ironically.

"And a friend to Jersey at the same time, eh?" was the sneering reply.

Detricand was in the humour to tell the truth even to this man who
hated him. He was giving himself the luxury of auricular confession.
But Philip did not see that when once such a man has stood in his own
pillory, sat in his own stocks, voluntarily paid the piper, he will take
no after insult.

Detricand still would not be tempted out of his composure. "No," he
answered, "I've been an enemy to Jersey too, both by act and example;
but people here have been kind enough to forget the act, and the example
I set is not unique."

"You've never thought that you've outstayed your welcome, eh?"

"As to that, every country is free to whoever wills, if one cares to
pay the entrance fee and can endure the entertainment. One hasn't to
apologise for living in a country. You probably get no better treatment
than you deserve, and no worse. One thing balances another."

The man's cool impeachment and defence of himself irritated Philip, the
more so because Guida was present, and this gentlemanly vagrant had him
at advantage.

"You paid no entrance fee here; you stole in through a hole in the wall.
You should have been hanged."

"Monsieur d'Avranche!" said Guida reproachfully, turning round from the
fire.

Detricand's answer came biting and dry. "You are an officer of your
King, as was I. You should know that hanging the invaders of Jersey
would have been butchery. We were soldiers of France; we had the
distinction of being prisoners of war, monsieur."

This shot went home. Philip had been touched in that nerve called
military honour. He got to his feet. "You are right," he answered
with reluctant frankness. "Our grudge is not individual, it is against
France, and we'll pay it soon with good interest, monsieur."

"The individual grudge will not be lost sight of in the general, I
hope?" rejoined Detricand with cool suggestion, his clear, persistent
grey eye looking straight into Philip's.

"I shall do you that honour," said Philip with mistaken disdain.

Detricand bowed low. "You will always find me in the suite of the Prince
of Vaufontaine, monsieur, and ready to be so distinguished by you."
Turning to Guida, he added: "Mademoiselle will perhaps do me the honour
to notice me again one day?" then, with a mocking nod to Philip, he left
the house.

Guida and Philip stood looking