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Updated: June 26, 2025
"I thought he was tied to a rock and left to drown, by Rullecour's orders." "I had him set free after Rullecour had gone on to the town. He got away to France." Ranulph's anxiety deepened. "He might come back, and then if anything happened to him " "He'd try and make things happen to others, eh? But there's little danger of his coming back. They know he's a traitor, and he knows he'd be hung.
All was propitious for the attack. There was no moon only a meagre starlight when they set forth from Chaussey. The journey was made in little more than an hour, and Rullecour himself was among the first to see the shores of Jersey loom darkly in front. Beside him stood the murderous pilot who was leading in the expedition, the colleague of Olivier Delagarde.
Give us your hand why, man, it's doggish cold." "Cold hand, healthy heart. How many men will Rullecour bring?" "Two thousand; mostly conscripts and devil's beauties from Granville and St. Malo gaols." "Any signals yet?" "Two from Chaussey at five o'clock. Rullecour 'll try to land at Gorey. Come, let's be off. Delagarde's there now." The boy stiffened with horror his father was a traitor!
Not yet had a blow been struck for the honour of this land and of the Kingdom. But a blind injustice was, in its own way, doing the work of justice. On the march, Delagarde, suspecting treachery to himself, not without reason, required of Rullecour guarantee for the fulfilment of his pledge to make him Vicomte of the Island when victory should be theirs.
He had the fatuousness of those who deceive with impunity. With confidence he unreeled the dark line out to the end. When he had told his story, still hungry for applause, he repeated the account of how the tatterdemalion brigade of Frenchmen came down upon him out of the night, and how he should have killed Rullecour himself had it not been for an officer who struck him down from behind.
De Tournay told me he repented of coming with Rullecour, and he felt he had spoilt his life that he could never return to France again or to his people." The old Chevalier shook his head sadly. "Is he dead?" he asked. There was a slight pause, and then Detricand answered: "No, still living." "Where is he?" "I promised de Tournay that I would never reveal that."
Rullecour it was, soldier of fortune, gambler, ruffian, and embezzler, to whom the King of France had secretly given the mission to conquer the unconquerable little island. From the Chaussey Isles the filibuster saw the signal light which the traitor Olivier Delagarde had set upon the heights of Le Couperon, where, ages ago, Caesar built fires to summon from Gaul his devouring legions.
"Let me speak fully and bluntly now," Grandjon-Larisse went on. "You will not shrink from plain truths, I know. We were friends ere you went adventuring with Rullecour. We are soldiers too; and you will understand I meant no bragging in my letter." He raised his brows inquiringly, and Detricand inclined his head in assent. Without more ado, Grandjon-Larisse laid a map on the table.
In the Vier Marchi the French flag was flying, French troops occupied it, French sentries guarded the five streets entering into it. Rullecour, the French adventurer, held the Lieutenant-Governor of the isle captive in the Cohue Royale; and by threats of fire and pillage thought to force capitulation.
He did not move, but took sight again, and fired. Rullecour fell, shot through the jaw. A cry of fury and dismay went up from the French at the loss of their leader, a shout of triumph from the British. The Frenchmen had had enough. They broke and ran. Some rushed for doorways and threw themselves within, many scurried into the Rue des Tres Pigeons, others madly fought their way into Morier Lane.
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