“Sir,” said the bewildered exile, “you have spoken hardly, but, I believe, with a meaning kinder than seemed:  a good intent makes amends for a harsh manner, and a bitter drink may strengthen the heart, as has this day been done to mine by the mingled counsel and reproof that have been poured out for me.  I seek not to pry into your affairs of State, and what I have heard Le Gallais hath heard also.  I therefore make no scrutiny as touching the means to be employed; the end we will take thankfully according as promised.  If the Parliament and the Lord General be so minded, I make no doubt but we shall return to our home.  But as regards the word you seek from me, I would fain know to what it shall relate.  You seek, I presume, to make conditions with me:  let me know, in the hearing of my friend, what they be.  That we of the island shall be true and faithful servants to the Commonwealth of England, not seeking to intermeddle in matters that may be beyond our concernment, I would gladly undertake for myself and for all with whom my wishes may have weight:  but methinks it shall hardly need.  And perchance your Honour may intend to glance at some more private matter?”

“I do so,” answered the politician.  “I have never hidden from you the love that I bore for good Sir Philip living, nor how dear I hold his memory now that he is dead.  I would not that any who were of his party should suffer damage when the cause shall prosper in the island.  You have heard of Cromwell’s present doings in Ireland:  all the world knows what things are being wrought in that unhappy country, where the Lord Ormonde hath been another Cartwright and hath met with an overthrow the like of which I pretell for his Jersey antitype.  Cartwright is as unbending and will hold out to the last.

“Mont Orgueil, indeed, can make no opposition to a regular siege:  we are not now in the days of Du Guesclin.  But it may be otherwise with Elizabeth Castle.  Like her whose name she bears that fortress is a virgin, and not without a struggle will she yield.  Cromwell loves not such defences.  Let us be there when the hour comes, and let us combine to keep the garrison from perishing by the swords of our friends.”

“Gladly will I do my best in aid of mercy,” answered Lempriere, looking much relieved by the nature of the request.  “If that be all that your Honour hath to ask, I can have no hesitancy in giving a hearty and honest pledge in such behalf.  Jersey is no Corsica; and we love not revenge, do we, Alain?”

Alain readily endorsing his chief’s assertion, Prynne continued:—­

“It is not all.  I have to pray you for the Lieutenant himself; misguided and grasping as you deem him, he is of my deceased friend’s name and blood.”

“Alack, Mr. Prynne!” answered Lempriere, “have you quite forgotten what I owe to that blood and name?  And I speak not in this for myself only.  There are the spirits of the Bandinels before me; unhappy victims of George Carteret’s revenge.  There is the shade of my friend Maximilian Messervy, judged by an unlawful and corrupt Court, executed under warrant of one who had no warrant for himself.”