Charles gave way before a will far stronger and a principle far higher than his own.

“Go, Major,” he said, with an expressive look and gesture.  “Let Messieurs les Etats know of our Mother’s message.  Sir George! be pleased to bring Major Querto into your assembly.  And, I pray you, bid some one send me here Tom Elliott,” added the King, in a more natural tone of voice. “A bientot! Sir George.”  He waved his visitors out and resumed the care of his finger-ends, neglected in the excitement of the discussion.

Carteret, accompanied by Major Querto, repaired to the mainland.  They proceeded together to the Market-place (now the Royal Square) and entered the newly-built Cohue or Court-house, where the States were assembling.  Seven of the Jurats (or Justices) were already collected, in their scarlet robes of office:  Sir Philip de Carteret, Seigneur of S. Owen (the Lieutenant-Bailiff); Amice de Carteret, Seigneur of Trinity; Francis de Carteret, Joshua de Carteret, Elias Dumaresq, Philip le Geyt, and John Pipon.  These, in official tranquillity—­as became their high dignity—­took seats on the dais, to the right and left of the Governor’s chair.  Below them gradually gathered the officers of the Crown, the Procureur du Roy, or Attorney-General (another de Carteret), and the Viscount, or Sheriff, Mr. Lawrence Hamptonne.  In the body of the hall sate the Constables of the parishes, and some of the Rectors.  The townsmen swarmed into the unoccupied space beyond the gangway.  When the hall was full, the usher, having placed the silver mace on the table, thrice proclaimed silence.  Then Sir George—­who united the little-compatible offices of Bailiff and Lieutenant-Governor—­arose from his central seat and presented the Major who stood beside it.

“M. le Lieutenant-Bailly, and Messieurs les Etats!” he said, “I have called you together to consider a message from the Queen:  this gentleman here will impart it to you, Major Querto, of his Majesty’s army.”

The Major’s face assumed the colour of his nose.

“I am a rough soldier,” he muttered, in English, “and little used to address such an august assembly as I see here; least of all in a foreign language.”

“English, English,” cried a dozen voices.  But Querto was silent, and looked at the Governor with a scared and anxious gaze.

“Since our guest is so modest,” resumed Carteret, “it is necessary that I should speak for him.  The question is simple.  Her Majesty, with her constant care for the subjects of her son, has heard with dismay that the rebels in England are projecting a descent upon Jersey.  At the same time, Castle Cornet, in Guernsey, will be attacked by sea.  Sir Baldwin Wake, with your active aid, has hitherto held out against the Roundheads of that island; and surely since the time of Troy has seldom been so long a siege, so stout a defence.  But, with the Roundheads assaulting him by land, and Blake’s squadron by sea—­Gentlemen, I know Blake and his brave seamen—­what can Wake and a hundred half-starved men avail?  To guard us against all these dangers, and against the loss of all the profits that we now have from our letters-of-marque in the Channel, her Majesty has been pleased to devise a means of succour.”