y's women by sea, under
the charge of Master Hobbs, a shipmaster at Weymouth, who traded with
Bordeaux for wine, and could easily put in near La Sablerie, and bring
off the lady and child, and, if she wished it, the pastor to whom such a
debt of gratitude was owing.

Berenger was delighted with the notion of the sea rather than the land
journey; but he pointed out at once that this would remove all objection
to his going in person. He had often been out whole nights with the
fishermen, and knew that a sea-voyage would be better for his health
than anything,--certainly better than pining and languishing at home,
as he had done for months. He could not bear to think of separation
from Eustacie an hour longer than needful; nay, she had been cruelly
entreated enough already; and as long as he could keep his feet, it was
absolutely due to her that he should not let others, instead of himself,
go in search of her. It would be almost death to him to stay at home.

Lord Walwyn looked at the pallid, wasted face, with all its marks
of suffering and intense eagerness of expression, increased by the
difficulty of utterance and need of subduing agitation. He felt that the
long-misunderstood patience and endurance had earned something; and he
knew, too, that for all his grandson's submission and respect, the
boy, as a husband and father, had rights and duties that would assert
themselves manfully if opposed. It was true that the sea-voyage obviated
many difficulties, and it was better to consent with a good grace than
drive one hitherto so dutiful to rebellion. He did then consent, and was
rewarded by the lightning flash of joy and gratitude in the bright
blue eyes, and the fervent pressure and kiss of his hand, as Berenger
exclaimed, 'Ah! sir, Eustacie will be such a daughter to you. You should
have seen how the Admiral liked her!'

The news of Lord Walwyn's consent raised much commotion in the family.
Dame Annora was sure her poor son would be murdered outright this time,
and that nobody cared because he was only HER son; and she strove hard
to stir up Sir Marmaduke to remonstrate with her father; but the good
knight had never disputed a judgment of 'my Lord's' in his whole life,
and had even received his first wife from his hands, when forsaken by
the gay Annora. So she could only ride over the Combe, be silenced by
her father, as effectually as if Jupiter had nodded, and bewail and
murmur to her mother till she lashed Lady Walw