As they looked out to sea a small barque was seen standing in; by the help of field-glasses, it was observed that she flew the French flag.  At the same instant the Castle guns saluted.

“Lo you, now!” pursued the commander, “there comes to them a promise of help from France.  As the Lord liveth, it must be prevented!  I must recall our cruisers from Guernsey; that castle shall be breached and stormed on Monday.  And then on their own heads be the blood of Sir George and of those that hold with him!”

“Under your favour, sir,” said Prynne, “I think it shall not need.”  He exchanged a hurried whisper with Lempriere.  “What flag is that which you see flying on the Castle staff?”

“It is not a flag of truce,” shouted Haine.  “God do so to me and more also if I make them not like unto Oreb and Zeb!”

The text seemed to relieve the veteran like an execration.

“What mean you by your flag, Mr. Prynne?  I am not to take my orders from you, sir, I hope.”

“It is the flag of England,” answered the politician, “of your country and of theirs—­the red cross of S. George.  The Royal Ensign has been hauled down; do you not see?  God save England!”

With the impulse of Latin manners, Lempriere held out his arms, and Le Gallais fell upon his breast.  Meanwhile a drummer from the Castle was seen to ascend the bill, bearing a white pennon at the end of a lance, which he planted on the ground when he came within sight, and beat the chamade upon his instrument.

The messenger being brought before the Brigadier, handed him a small packet.  Among them was a short note to the address of Captain Le Gallais, in which Carteret, reminding the militia officer of their past relations, invited him to plead his cause and that of the garrison with Lempriere and Prynne.  This note Le Gallais, after attentive perusal, handed to Lempriere, who read it over, and waited in silence until Haine had finished his own despatch.  He then addressed the Brigadier, and pleaded strongly the cause of his countrymen, concluded with these words: 

“Carteret, sir, was a sentinel; he hath but done his duty to his master.  So long as he was not relieved, he could not honestly leave or surrender that which he was placed to guard.  Why he now lowers his arms he hath made plain I doubt not, to your Honour.”

“Why, yes, Mr. Bailiff; for the matter of that, he hath put a fair case.  Yonder barque, it seems, brought him cold comfort.  As for that thing they call their ‘King,’ he is lost.  He can only offer them aid on condition of delivering the island to the French.  Not that Mazarin dares affront us by sending a French army to occupy the Castle in the name of his King, and risk the giving us battle.  Far from that, he hath a conjunction of counsels with the Lord General, and they understand one another.  Nevertheless, there is ever a rabble of Irish cut-throats, Flemish mercenaries, and such-like, and no lack of Maulevriers to be their leaders.”