y. "A day of
triumph may be a day of doom when God pleases. And how does this event
touch us, thinkest thou, Alain?"

"Why thus," replied the young man. "The general is not a man to bear
with our lieutenant-governor's oppressions and piracies for ever. Like
Satan in the Apocalypse, Carteret hath great wrath, because he knoweth
that his time is short. For Admiral Blake hath been collecting his ships
at Portsmouth, and our informant says that they were to sail to-day,
eighty vessels of war. They carry a strong force of _fantassins_,
pikemen, and arquebussiers, with the new snaphaunces devised in the low
countries. Their commander is Major-General Haine, Prynne is there as
commissioner, and, best of all, Michael Lempriere is on board!"

Rose looked at him with swimming eyes.

"And Michael Lempriere comes as bailiff. He said that he would. And
then, when your fortunes are once more high, and you have no further
need of me ..."

Alain faltered and looked down. But for that gesture even his despondent
mind might have been roused by the look that Marguerite cast upon him.
But the dart was parried by the shield of an obstinate depression.

"I have arranged," he pursued, "with Sir George. You know that last
year he sent out a ship of five guns to America, laden with passengers,
all sorts of grain, and tools for husbandry. She was lost, being
captured (that is to say) off the Isle of Wight by Captain Green, of the
Commonwealth's navy. The stores were confiscated, but most of the
passengers came back to the island, and have been here ever since
awaiting a fresh opportunity for New Jersey. It will come soon, and I
sail with the next venture."

"With the next fiddlestick," broke in Rose. "Speak to the silly fellow,
Marguerite. This is the last time of asking."

Whatever may be thought of Alain's project of emigration, his
information was true enough. Cromwell had determined to put a stop to
the trouble caused by the present doings in Jersey. Yet he had no desire
to repeat the severities of Ireland. The Jersey cavaliers were good
Protestants, there had been no massacres, and their cause was warmly
supported by Prynne--a man with whom the general could not wholly
sympathise, but with whom he could still less afford to break on what
appeared to him a not very important difference. Left to himself, he
would not probably have been as stern with Jersey as he had been with
the blood-stained Rapparees and their allies, solicited by