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Updated: June 17, 2025
The Governor greeted De la Foret with a sour smile, read to him the Queen's writ, and politely begged his company towards Mont Orgueil Castle. "I'll fetch other commands from her Majesty, or write me down a pedlar of St. Ouen's follies," the Seigneur said from his doorway, as the Governor and De la Foret bade him good-bye and took the road to the Castle. Michel de la Foret was gone, a prisoner.
"When kings shall favour, ladies call My service to their side; When roses grow upon the wall Of life, with love inside; I'll get me home with joy to be In my heart's own good company!" "Oh, fool, oh, beneficent fool, well done! 'Tis a song for a man 'twould shame De Carteret of St. Ouen's to his knees," cried Lempriere. "Oh, benignant fool, well done!
"When kings shall favour, ladies call My service to their side; When roses grow upon the wall Of life, with love inside; I'll get me home with joy to be In my heart's own good company!" "Oh, fool, oh, beneficent fool, well done! 'Tis a song for a man 'twould shame De Carteret of St. Ouen's to his knees," cried Lempriere. "Oh, benignant fool, well done!
"To England." "And myself to Tyburn?" "Nay, to the Queen." "'Tis the same thing. Head of Abel! Elizabeth hath heard of me. The Seigneur of St. Ouen's and others have writ me down a pirate to her. She would not pardon the muscadella," he added, with another laugh, looking down where the flagons lay.
Ouen's brought him to task for harbouring and comforting the despised Huguenots; for when De Carteret railed he was envious. So henceforth Lempriere played Lord Protector with still more boisterous unction.
Ouen's Bay, l'Etacq, Plemont, dropped behind them as they sailed. They drew on to where the rocks of the Paternosters foamed to the unquiet sea. Far over between the Nez du Guet and the sprawling granite pack of the Dirouilles, was the Admiralty yacht winging to the nor'-west. Beyond it again lay the coast of France, the tall white cliffs, the dark blue smoky curve ending in Cap de la Hague.
Ouen's muscadella, brought secretly to him by his unchanging friend, Lempriere, so hastening the end. The Comtesse de Montgomery, who lived in a cottage near by, came constantly to the little house on the hillside by Rozel Bay. She had never loved her own children more than she did the brown-haired child with the deep-blue eyes, which was the one pledge of the great happiness of Michel and Angele.
My estate is none worse than any in the whole islands; I have more horses and dogs than any gentleman of my acres; and I am more in favour at court than De Carteret of St. Ouen's. I am the Queen's butler, and I am the first that royal favour granted to set up three dove-cotes, one by St. Aubin's, one by St.
Her commands are here." Pawlett tapped the letter with his finger. "I'm butler to the Queen, and she will list to me. I'll not smirk and caper like St. Ouen's; I'll bear me like a man not speaking for himself. I'll speak as Harry her father spoke straight to the purpose.... No, no, no, I'm not to be wheedled, even by a Pawlett, and you shall not ask me.
"Muscadella," said Buonespoir, and lowered the basket to the table. Lempriere seized a flagon, drew it forth, looked closely at it, then burst into laughter, and spluttered: "St. Ouen's muscadella, by the hand of Rufus!" Seizing Buonespoir by the shoulders, he forced him down upon a bench at the table, and pushed the trencher of spiced meat against his chest.
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