way to the growing
importance of S. Helier, protected by its virgin Castle. Hence the
place, though not quite in ruins, had sunk to a minor and subordinate
character; the Hall, in which the States had once assembled, was
neglected and dirty; the chambers formerly appropriated to the Governor
and his family were used as cells, or not used at all; the garden was
unweeded; and Mont Orgueil in general had sunk to be a prison and a
watch-tower. None the less proudly did it rise--as it does still--with a
protecting air above its little town and port, and look defiance upon
the opposite shores of Normandy.

In a narrow guard-room on the South side of this castle, a few days
later than the visit of La Cloche to the King, the Lieutenant-Governor
was sitting at a heavy oaken table, with his steel cap before him and
his basket-hilted sword hung by the belt from the back of his carven
chair. A writer sate at the left-hand side of the same table, and
between them lay militia muster-rolls and other papers. At the further
end of the room, between two halberdiers in scarlet doublets, stood a
tall Jerseyman in squalid garments, his legs in fetters, his wrists in
manacles. Keen little grey eyes peered through the neglected black hair
that fell over his narrow brow; and his iron-grey beard showed signs of
long neglect.

"Now, Pierre Benoist," said Sir George, "for the last time I give you
warning. If you do not speak, freely and to the purpose, it will be the
worse for you. There be those who can tell me what I desire to know. As
for you, I shall deliver you to the Provost-Sergeant, who will need no
words from me to tell him how to deal with you. I ask you, is Michael
Lempriere in correspondence with Henry Dumaresq?"

"_Palfrancordi!_ Messire; you press me hard," said the prisoner, but his
eye was scarcely that of a pressed man. "When you examined me a week ago
in secret I think I answered that. I know of no letters that have passed
between M. de Samares and M. de Maufant. That is," he added hastily, as
the Governor began to look impatient, "I have carried none myself."

"Who has?" asked the Governor.

The Greffier, at a signal from Carteret, plunged his pen into the ink;
the halberdiers shifted their legs and leaned upon their weapons; the
prisoner moistened his lips with his tongue.

"Speak, Benoist; who carried the letters?"

"It was Alain Le Gallais," answered Pierre in a low voice.

"It was Alain Le Gallais? Write, Master G