“It is not often that a poor gentleman hath even such refreshment as this,” he said presently, after lighting a pipe of tobacco.  The words were hardly courteous, but the speaker had not been bred in courtesy.  “We had short commons in Exeter, but then there was none of the citizens fared better than we.  Here in Jersey Mr. Lieutenant takes good care that they who have keep and they who want go on lacking.  Yet methinks he might find it worth his while to take care for something else.”

“What, mean you, major?” demanded the Jerseyman.

“Marry this,” answered his companion, “that there be some among your friends who do not choose to starve while there are pistoles to be won by a brave action.  Hark ye, captain, are you well affected or no?  You need have no fear, sir, in telling me.  I am not strait-laced, and I can keep counsel.

“Dost thou call to mind a certain evening in London when you and Mr. Lempriere were walking home together, and a warning was uttered in your ears?”

“Was it thou that played the raven?  Didst thou think that we were of your side?”

“Of my side, quotha.  Why, man, do you think me one to take sides?  O, lord Sir, sides are for the quality.  Dick Querto is of his own side, no other.  Now, see here, Captain le Gallais, mayhap you know one Pierre Benoist that was then in limbo?”

“Aye, do I, and what of him?”

“Why, marry this; that he is at large, and hath a lure for your young Charlie there that will bring him from his perch on the rock yonder, and mew the tercel in London town.  What think ye the Parliament will deem a meet reward for the men who bring them such a prize as that?”

Le Gallais was aghast.  He was asked to consent to a plot to kidnap the king, and convey him into the hands of those who had taken his father’s anointed head from his shoulders.  A plot to be carried out in Jersey, and by the aid of Jerseymen!  Alain was not a blind royalist, as we have seen, but he had not learned, either from Prynne or from Lempriere, either that Jersey could exist without a King of England or that treachery was a necessary part of the work of liberty.  At the same time the ruffian before him must not be prematurely alarmed.  So he played his part as best he might.

“I must think of it,” he said, “the enterprise is bold.  Tell me no more of your projects,” he added, with a sudden shame, as the swashbuckler was about to enter into details.  “I cannot now take part in your work, for reasons.”

“All the better,” said the bravo, “but see that you betray me not.  The fewer of us the larger the share; but you were best not betray me.”

“Threats are not needed, major,” answered the Jerseyman, “I am no traitor.”

Le Gallais paid the reckoning and sauntered off, a prey to contending thoughts.  That the cruel plot should come to nought, if its frustration were within his means, he unhesitatingly resolved.  That Querto’s confidence—­unasked though it had been—­should be used against himself, was equally unwelcome to Alain’s sense of honour.