Hearing, Lempriere of Rozel roared at him in anger: "Durst speak to me! For every fleece you thieved I'll have you flayed with bow-strings if ever I sight your face within my boundaries."
"Then I'll fetch and carry no more for M'sieu' of Rozel," said Buonespoir, in an offended tone, but grinning under his reddish beard.
"When didst fetch and carry for me, varlet?" Lempriere roared again.
"When the Seigneur of Rozel fell from his horse, overslung with sack, the night of the royal Duke's visit, and the footpads were on him, I carried him on my back to the lodge of Rozel Manor. The footpads had scores to settle with the great Rozel."
For a moment the Seigneur stared, then roared again, but this time with laughter.
"By the devil and Rollo, I have sworn to this hour that there was no man in the isle could have carried me on his shoulders. And I was right, for Jersiais you're none, neither by adoption nor grace, but a citizen of the sea."
He laughed again as a wave swept over them, drenching them, and a sudden squall of wind came out of the north. "There's no better head in the isle than mine for measurement and thinking, and I swore no man under eighteen stone could carry me, and I am twenty-five--I take you to be nineteen stone, eh?"
"Nineteen, less two ounces," grinned Buonespoir.
"I'll laugh De Carteret of St. Ouen's out of his stockings over this," answered Lempriere. "Trust me for knowing weights and measures! Look you, varlet, thy sins be forgiven thee. I care not about the fleeces, if there be no more stealing. St. Ouen's has no head--I said no one man in Jersey could have done it--I'm heavier by three stone than any man in the island." Thereafter there was little speaking among them, for the danger was greater as they neared the shore. The wind and the sea were against them; the tide, however, was in their favour. Others besides M. Aubert offered up prayers for the safe-landing of the rescued and rescuers. Presently an ancient fisherman broke out into a rude sailor's chanty, and every voice, even those of the two Huguenots, took it up: "When the Four Winds, the Wrestlers, strive with the Sun, When the Sun is slain in the dark; When the stars burn out, and the night cries To the blind sea-reapers, and they rise, And the water-ways are stark-- God save us when the reapers reap! When the ships sweep in with the tide to the shore, And the little white boats return no more; When the reapers reap, Lord give Thy sailors sleep, If Thou cast us not upon the shore, To bless Thee evermore: To walk in Thy sight as heretofore Though the way of the Lord be steep! By Thy grace, Show Thy face, Lord of the land and the deep!"