and master of the cellar," he gurgled
out, and, tipping the flagon of muscadella, took a long draught.
"God-a-mercy--but it has saved my life," he gasped in satisfaction as
he lay back in his great chair, and put his feet on the bench whereon
Buonespoir sat.

They raised their flagons and toasted each other, and Lempriere burst
forth into song, in the refrain of which Buonespoir joined boisterously:

"King Rufus he did hunt the deer,
With a hey ho, come and kiss me, Dolly!
It was the spring-time of the year,
Hey ho, Dolly shut her eyes!
King Rufus was a bully boy,
He hunted all the day for joy,
Sweet Dolly she was ever coy:
And who would e'er be wise
That looked in Dolly's eyes?

"King Rufus he did have his day,
With a hey ho, come and kiss me, Dolly!
So get ye forth where dun deer play--
Hey ho, Dolly comes again!
The greenwood is the place for me,
For that is where the dun deer be,
'Tis where my Dolly comes to me:
And who would stay at home,
That might with Dolly roam?
Sing hey ho, come and kiss me, Dolly!"

Lempriere, perspiring with the exertion, mopped his forehead, then
lapsed into a plaintive mood.

"I've had naught but trouble of late," he wheezed. "Trouble, trouble,
trouble, like gnats on a filly's flank!" and in spluttering words, twice
bracketed in muscadella, he told of Michel de la Foret's arrest, and of
his purpose to go to England if he could get a boat to take him.

"'Tis that same business brings me here," said Buonespoir, and forthwith
told of his meeting with Angele and what was then agreed upon.

"You to go to England!" cried Lempriere amazed. "They want you for
Tyburn there."

"They want me for the gallows here," said Buonespoir. Rolling a piece
of spiced meat in his hand, he stuffed it into his mouth and chewed
till the grease came out of his eyes, and took eagerly from a servant a
flagon of malmsey and a dish of ormers.

"Hush, chew thy tongue a minute!" said the Seigneur, suddenly starting
and laying a finger beside his nose. "Hush!" he said again, and looked
into the flicker of the candle by him with half-shut eyes.

"May I have no rushes for a bed, and die like a rat in a moat, if I
don't get thy pardon too of the Queen, and bring thee back to Jersey,
a thorn in the side of De Carteret for ever! He'll look upon thee
as