ship!" He laughed again till the tears came. "Son of Peter,
but it is droll that--a farce au diable! They have humour, these
fisher-folk, eh, gunner?"

"Mattingley will fight you just the same," answered Ranulph coolly.

"Oh ho, you know these people, my gunner?" asked Richambeau.

"All my life," answered Ranulph, "and, by your leave, I will tell you
how."

Not waiting for permission, after the manner of his country, he told
Richambeau of his Jersey birth and bringing up, and how he was the
victim of the pressgang.

"Very good," said Richambeau. "You Jersey folk were once Frenchmen, and
now that you're French again, you shall do something for the flag. You
see that 12-pounder yonder to the right? Very well, dismount it. Then
we'll send in a flag of truce, and parley with this Mattingley, for
his jests are worth attention and politeness. There's a fellow at the
gun--no, he has gone. Dismount the right-hand gun at one shot. Ready
now. Get a good range."

The whole matter went through Ranulph's mind as the captain spoke. If he
refused to fire, he would be strung up to the yardarm; if he fired and
missed, perhaps other gunners would fire, and once started they might
raze the fishing-post. If he dismounted the gun, the matter would
probably remain only a jest, for such as yet Richambeau regarded it.

Ranulph ordered the tackle and breechings cast away, had off the apron,
pricked a cartridge, primed, bruised the priming, and covered the vent.
Then he took his range steadily, quietly. There was a brisk wind
blowing from the south--he must allow for that; but the wind was stopped
somewhat in its course by the Perch Rock--he must allow for that.

All was ready. Suddenly a girl came running round the corner of the
building.

It was Carterette. She was making for the right-hand gun. Ranulph
started, the hand that held the match trembled.

"Fire, you fool, or you'll kill the girl!" cried Richambeau.

Ranulph laid a hand on himself as it were. Every nerve in his body
tingled, his legs trembled, but his eye was steady. He took the sight
once more coolly, then blew on the match. Now the girl was within thirty
feet of the gun.

He quickly blew on the match again, and fired. When the smoke cleared
away he saw that the gun was dismounted, and not ten feet from it stood
Carterette looking at it dazedly.

He heard a laugh behind him. There was Richambeau walking away,
telescope under arm, even as the other 12-pounder on sh