Michel and Angele | Page 8

helplessly, Angele saw the tall figure of the Seigneur of Rozel. He had

been watching the scene for some time. Now he came quickly to her.
"Is it the very man?" he asked her, jerking a finger towards the
struggling figures in the sea.
"Yes, oh yes," she replied, nodding her head piteously. "God tells my
heart it is."
Her father drew near and interposed.
"Let us kneel and pray for two dying men," said he, and straightway
knelt upon the sand.
"By St. Martin, we've better medicine than that, apothecary!" said
Lempriere of Rozel loudly, and, turning round, summoned two
serving-men. "Launch my strong boat," he added. "We will pick these
gentlemen from the brine, or know the end of it all."
The men hurried gloomily to the long-boat, ran her down to the shore
and into the surf.
"You are going--you are going to save him, dear Seigneur?" asked the
girl tremulously.
"To save him--that's to be seen, mistress," answered Lempriere, and
advanced to the fishermen. By dint of hard words, and as hearty
encouragement and promises, he got a half-dozen strong sailors to man
the boat.
A moment after, they were all in. At a motion from the Seigneur, the
boat was shot out into the surf, and a cheer from the shore gave heart to
De la Foret and Buonespoir, who were being driven upon the rocks.
The Jerseymen rowed gallantly; and the Seigneur, to give them heart,
promised a shilling, a capon, and a gallon of beer to each, if the rescue
was made. Again and again the two men seemed to sink beneath the sea,
and again and again they came to the surface and battled further, torn,
battered, and bloody, but not beaten. Cries of "We're coming, gentles,

we're coming!" from the Seigneur of Rozel, came ringing through the
surf to the dulled ears of the drowning men, and they struggled on.
There never was a more gallant rescue. Almost at their last gasp the
two were rescued.
"Mistress Aubert sends you welcome, sir, if you be Michel de la Foret,"
said Lempriere of Rozel, and offered the fugitive his horn of liquor as
he lay blown and beaten in the boat.
"I am he," De la Foret answered. "I owe you my life, Monsieur," he
added.
Lempriere laughed. "You owe it to the lady; and I doubt you can
properly pay the debt," he answered, with a toss of the head; for had not
the lady refused him, the Seigneur of Rozel, six feet six in height, and
all else in proportion, while this gentleman was scarce six feet.
"We can have no quarrel upon the point," answered De la Foret,
reaching out his hand; "you have at least done tough work for her, and
if I cannot pay in gold, I can in kind. It was a generous deed, and it has
made a friend for ever of Michel de la Foret."
"Raoul Lempriere of Rozel they call me, Michel de la Foret, and by
Rollo the Duke, but I'll take your word in the way of friendship, as the
lady yonder takes it for riper fruit! Though, faith, 'tis fruit of a short
summer, to my thinking."
All this while Buonespoir the pirate, his face covered with blood, had
been swearing by the little finger of St. Peter that each Jerseyman there
should have the half of a keg of rum. He went so far in gratitude as to
offer the price of ten sheep which he had once secretly raided from the
Seigneur of Rozel and sold in France; for which he had been seized on
his later return to the island, and had escaped without punishment.
Hearing, Lempriere of Rozel roared at him in anger: "Durst speak to
me! For every fleece you thieved I'll have you flayed with bow-strings
if ever I sight your face within my boundaries."

"Then I'll fetch and carry no more for M'sieu' of Rozel," said
Buonespoir, in an offended tone, but grinning under his reddish beard.
"When didst fetch and carry for me, varlet?" Lempriere roared again.
"When the Seigneur of Rozel fell from his horse, overslung with sack,
the night of the royal Duke's visit, and the footpads were on him, I
carried him on my back to the lodge of Rozel Manor. The footpads had
scores to settle with the great Rozel."
For a moment the Seigneur stared, then roared again, but this time with
laughter.
"By the devil and Rollo, I have sworn to this hour that there was no
man in the isle could have carried me on his shoulders. And I was right,
for Jersiais you're none, neither by adoption nor grace, but a citizen of
the sea."
He laughed again as a wave swept over them, drenching them, and