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Updated: June 8, 2025
He was to come along with the Sénéchal in a quarter of an hour " But Nance had fallen on her knees and buried her face in the bed-clothes, lest any but God should see it in the rapture of its breaking. "Dieu merci! Dieu merci! Dieu merci!" she was crying, though none of them heard it. And "Thank God!" said Stephen Gard with fervour for Bernel, and for himself, but most of all for Nance.
Such were Etienne Chevalier, Treasurer of France; Pierre de Brézé, of a noble Angevin family, and Sénéchal of Normandy after the expulsion of the English; and Jacques Cœur, the king’s superintendent of Finance, whose house at Bourges, with its angel-ceiled chapel, still delights the traveller.
He felt her quivering in his arms again as he pressed her close. He felt again the willing surrender of her sweet wet face. And the thought of it thrilled his cold blood and set it coursing through his veins like new life. Yes, truly, while there was Nance there was hope. Perhaps the Sénéchal and the Vicar would prevail upon them.
"Tell me!" he gasped, still all astream, wits and clothes alike. And it was the Sénéchal who told him. "Peter Mauger was killed last night, at the same place as Tom Hamon, and in the same way. So these hot-blooded thickheads are convinced at last that it wasn't your work." "Peter Mauger!" he said, gazing vaguely at them all. "But who " "We haven't found out yet.
Unless you've been brought up to that kind of thing, you couldn't stand it. It would give you nightmares for the rest of your life." "That's a rare lass, that little Nance," said the Sénéchal. "There's some good in Sark after all, Mr. Gard." "She was an angel to me," said Gard with feeling. "If it had not been for her, I could never have held out.
He swam out to the rock taking food, and ... and ... we have not seen him since;" and her hand was over her face and the tears streaming through. "Mon Dieu! Another!" said the Sénéchal, aghast. "When, child? When was this?" "The night after the storm, monsieur." "Perhaps he is there, on the rock." "No, monsieur. I was over there myself last night.
"Ga'rabotin! but I thought it was the devil himself," said the Sénéchal, as the others came hurrying up. "Why the deuce can't people tie up their horses as they do their cows? I'll bring it up at the next Chef Plaids" which consideration restored his shaken equanimity somewhat, and made him feel himself again.
Then to the Vicar and the Sénéchal, and these set off at once for the harbour, but found themselves powerless in the face of public opinion. Argument and remonstrance alike fell on deaf ears. The Vicar appealed to their sense of right; the Sénéchal forbade their going. But their minds were doggedly set on it, and they went. "I shall hold you to account," stormed Philip Guille.
"Doctor said he'd like to have seen him afore he was moved last time," said old John de Carteret weightily, and would not let a boat go out till the Doctor and the Sénéchal came.
In war, administration, and finance, he proved himself equally trustworthy and skilful, and to these qualities he added others of a brilliant intellectual nature. He advanced from one post of trust to another, until the king himself presented him with the keys of the city and castle of Rouen. Thus he became Sénéchal of Normandy, an honour which remained in his family.
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