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She turned and saw nearing the shore from the Rue d'Egypte a half-dozen sailors, singing cheerily: "Get you on, get you on, get you on, Get you on to your fo'c'stle'ome; Leave your lassies, leave your beer, For the bugle what you 'ear Pipes you on to your fo'c'stle 'ome 'Ome 'ome 'ome, Pipes you on to your fo'c'stle 'ome." Guida drew near.
She had not seen him once since that great day when they had visited the Ecrehos. The house of Elie Mattingley the smuggler stood in the Rue d'Egypte, not far east of the Vier Prison. It had belonged to a jurat of repute, who parted with it to Mattingley not long before he died.
Something in her words had ruled him to her own calmness, and at that moment he had the first flash of understanding of her nature and its true relation to his own. Passing through the Rue d'Egypte this day he met Dormy Jamais. Forgetful of everything save that this quaint foolish figure had interested him when a boy, he called him by name; but Dormy Jamais swerved away, eyeing him askance.
She turned and saw nearing the shore from the Rue d'Egypte a half-dozen sailors, singing cheerily: "Get you on, get you on, get you on, Get you on to your fo'c'stle'ome; Leave your lassies, leave your beer, For the bugle what you 'ear Pipes you on to your fo'c'stle 'ome 'Ome 'ome 'ome, Pipes you on to your fo'c'stle 'ome." Guida drew near.
He himself had told his tale to the soldiers: how he had heard the baker and the Frenchman talking at the shop in the Rue d'Egypte. Yes, but suppose the French were driven out, and the baker taken prisoner and should reveal his father's complicity! And suppose people asked why he himself did not go at once to the Hospital Barracks in the town and to the Governor, and afterwards to Gorey?
They parted with another handshake, Detricand making his way into the Rue d'Egypte, and towards the Place du Vier Prison. Ranulph stood looking dazedly at the crowd before him, misery, revolt, and bitterness in his heart.
The same slight, mischievous smile crossed her lips now as eleven years ago in the Rue d'Egypte, and recalling that moment, she replied: "Yes, sir Philip!" At that instant the figure of a man appeared on the shingle beneath, looking up towards them. They did not see him. Guida's hand was still in Philip's. The man looked at them for a moment, then started and turned away. It was Ranulph Delagarde.
Dormy Jamais nodded his head, grunted, and, turning on his heel with Ranulph, clattered up the street. The lad sprang ahead of him, and ran swiftly up the Rue d'Egypte, into the Vier Marchi, and on over the Town Hill along the road to Grouville.
A carpenter, hearing her terrified exclamations, put on his sabots also, stooped whimpering to the stream running from the Rue d'Egypte, and began to wash his face. A dozen of his neighbours did the same. Some of the women, however, went on knitting hard, as they gabbled prayers and looked at the fast-blackening sun. Knitting was to Jersey women, like breathing or tale-bearing, life itself.
Politique plus fin que General Eubile, Bien plus ambitieux que Louis dit le Grand. Pour être Roi d'Egypte, il croit
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