ught for hours past,
but this sudden reminder brought my mind round to him, and me to my feet,
with a jerk.

He was my father--I could not doubt it, though belief was horrible. He was
a scoundrel beyond most. He lay there stricken by my hand. His life was
sought by the law, and would certainly be forfeited if he was found. I must
find George Hamon at once.

"Are they fighting still at Dixcart?" I asked the Guernsey man.

"There was firing over yonder as we came along," he said, pointing to the
south-west. "But it is finished now."

"That was their chief attack. The Senechal was shot at Eperquerie. George
Hamon is in charge at Dixcart. We had better see how they have fared."

"Allons! I know Hamon."

He left four of his comrades to guard the prisoners, and the rest of us set
off by the way I had already passed twice that night, and came down over
Hog's Back into Dixcart.

They heard us coming, and George Hamon's quick order to his men to stand by
told me all was well, and a shout from myself set his mind at rest.

"Mon Dieu! Phil, my boy, but I'm glad to see you safe and sound. You've
been on my mind since ever you left. Who are--Why--Krok--and Henri Tourtel?
Nom d'Gyu! Where do you come from?"

"From Herm last. We came across after those black devils. Old Carre said
they would take a bite at you as they passed. We landed on the other side,
and scrambled up a deuce of a cliff, and got to the tunnel there just in
the nick of time. Young Carre here was fighting a dozen of them and a
carronade single-handed."

"Bon Gyu, Phil! We're well through with it. I oughtn't to have let you go
alone, but you were gone before I knew, and we had all we could manage
here. There are ten of them dead, and the rest are in our hands--about
twenty, I think--and every man of them damaged. They fought like devils."

"Many of ours hurt?" I asked.

"We've not come out whole, but there's no one killed. Where's your
grandfather?"

"Wounded on Herm, but not seriously, M. Tourtel says."

"Seen anything of Torode himself, Hamon?" asked Tourtel.

"Haven't you got him? Better look if he's among our lot. You would know him
better than we would. They're all down yonder. I must go and see after
Amice Le Couteur. We left him bleeding at Eperquerie. Get anything you want
from our people, Tourtel. Krok, you come along with us;" and we set off
over the hill past La Jaspellerie to get to La Vauroque.

"Phil, my son," he said in my ear, "your