"Our latest advice is that Guise will not come," answered the Governor; "he has joined De Nevers and their combined armies are moving into Picardy: all men say that France will make a desperate effort to reconquer St. Quentin—and will make it soon."
"It is the unexpected which happens," said Geoffrey.
So they talked till the hour grew late and it was time to retire. This night they were to occupy the "Guest chamber" in the Governor's lodging.
"To-morrow, then," said the Earl, as he bade them a good-night, "to-morrow the tide serves at ten in the morning, and I have ordered a swift fly-boat to be ready for you at the quay at that hour. And now good-night, good-night!"
CHAPTER XVI
HOME AGAIN
It was a dull gloomy day, the first day of "chill October." The envoys stood on the deck of the fly-ship as she cleared out of Calais harbour, and they watched the fast-receding vista of the old English town, the last remnant of the once vast Continental possessions of the Plantagenet kings.
The flag of St. George hung loosely on the summit of the lofty tower of Notre Dame. The rain had sodden it, and there was little wind to throw out its heavy folds.
There was much cause why Geoffrey, William and Ralph should rejoice and be glad. Their mission was drawing to an end, and all things had gone happily. They had passed through many dangers, and a Divine Providence had surely watched over them. Soon they would be in London, and a rapturous welcome awaited them at Gray's Inn!
Yet these were three patriotic young Englishmen, and an indefinable oppression weighed down their spirits as they caught their last view of the flag of St. George floating over Calais. A prophetic intimation of evil oppressed their hearts.