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Ranulph's desertion was discovered. The fight was begun between a single Jersey shipwright and a French war-ship. His strength, however, could not last much longer. Every muscle of his body had been strained and tortured, and even this lighter task tried him beyond endurance. His legs stiffened against the ledge of rock, the tension numbed his arms. He wondered how near Alixandre was to the top.
At that moment, Mattingley now issued from a wooden fishing-shed with Sebastian Alixandre and three others armed with muskets, and passed to the little fort on which flew the British and Jersey flags. Ranulph heard a guffaw behind. Richambeau, the captain, confronted him. "That's a big splutter in a little pot, gunner," said he. He put his telescope to his eye.
He approached a group of bourgeois, who seemed to him to be discussing his piece. This is the fragment of conversation which he caught, "You know, Master Cheneteau, the Hotel de Navarre, which belonged to Monsieur de Nemours?" "Yes, opposite the Chapelle de Braque." "Well, the treasury has just let it to Guillaume Alixandre, historian, for six hivres, eight sols, parisian, a year."
"My poor scarecrow!" she repeated, and she tenderly wiped the blood from his face where his hands had touched it. Meanwhile bugle-calls and cries of command came up to them, and in the first light of morning they could see French officers and sailors, Mattingley, Alixandre, and others, hurrying to and fro.
He was to have his boat waiting to respond to a signal from the shore, and to make sail for France, where he and his father were to be landed. There he was to give Mattingley, Alixandre, and Carterette his craft to fare across the seas to the great fishing-ground of Gaspe in Canada.
Malo, and, all that came after until this very day. "Go along with Carterette," said Mattingley. "Alixandre is at the house; he'll help you away into the woods." As Ranulph hurried away with Carterette, he told her his design. Suddenly she stopped short, "Ranulph Delagarde," she said vehemently, "you can't climb Perch Rock. No one has ever done it, and you must not try.
"Sebastian Alixandre is he there? Why does he want to come?" "That is no matter," she called softly. "He is coming. He has the rope round his waist. Pull away!" It was better, Ranulph thought to himself, that he should be on Perch Rock alone, but the terrible strain had bewildered him, and he could make no protest now. "Don't start yet," he called down; "I'll pull when all's ready."
It dropped almost at Carterette's feet. She tied to the end of it three loose ropes she had brought from the Post. He drew them up quickly, tied them together firmly, and let the great coil down. Ranulph's bundle, a tent and many things Carterette had brought were drawn up. "Ranulph! Ranulph!" came Carterette's voice again. "Garcon Carterette!" "You must help Sebastian Alixandre up," she said.
As he stood watching and leaning on ma couzaine, a sailor near him said that the bay and the rock were called Perce. Perce Bay that was the exact point for which Elie Mattingley and Carterette had sailed with Sebastian Alixandre. How strange it was! He had bidden Carterette good-bye for ever, yet fate had now brought him to the very spot whither she had gone.
He was to have his boat waiting to respond to a signal from the shore, and to make sail for France, where he and his father were to be landed. There he was to give Mattingley, Alixandre, and Carterette his craft to fare across the seas to the great fishing-ground of Gaspe in Canada.
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