"How did the island itself get its name?" inquired Mrs. Aldrich. "The derivation of these charming old English names is a fascinating study."
"It was the old Roman Caesarea," said Win. "Jersey is a corruption of that. The ruined hermitage of St. Elericus is still over near Elizabeth, at least they call it that, though it's a kind of combination of a watch-tower and a cave. But the castle, as it stands, was built when Edward VI was king of England. There's a story to the effect that all the bells in the island except one for each of the twelve churches were seized by royal authority and ordered sold to help pay for building the castle. They were shipped to St. Malo and expected to bring a high price, but the vessel went down on the way and all the good church people thought it was because of sacrilege in taking those bells."
"What is the castle used for now?" inquired Mrs. Aldrich.
"Barracks," replied Roger. "The place is full of soldiers. It's no good now as a fortification, because Fort Regent up above St. Helier's—over there on the cliffs—could knock Castle Elizabeth and all those warships into fits in no time. Nothing can enter the bay if the Fort Regent guns don't approve. And that heap of rocks where Elizabeth stands is 'most a mile around,—it is, honest. Fran and Edith and I walked it."
"They say," said Win, "that the space between the castle and the town was once a meadow. For that matter, they also say that the whole channel between here and France was once so narrow that the Bishop of Coutances used to cross to Jersey on a plank."
"Tell that to the marines," protested Roger. "You do find the weirdest yarns in those books you're always grubbing in."
"Oh, I can tell a bigger one than that," said Win laughing, "but perhaps you'll swallow it because your friend Bill told it to me. He said that some time in the sixteenth century there was an abnormally low tide, lower than any one had ever known. Some fishermen who happened to be out between Orgueil and the coast of France came in and reported that they had distinctly seen down in the channel the towers and streets and houses of an old town, forty feet or more under water."
"There are stories like that in Brittany," said Mrs. Aldrich. "The fishermen declare that they can hear the tolling of the submerged church bells. Now, when legends like that exist on both sides of a channel, it stands to reason that there is likely some foundation in truth."
"Then why don't they send divers down to find out?" demanded Roger bluntly. "Any enterprising country would."
"We'll import a few Americans to do the investigating," laughed Mrs.
Aldrich. "Is this Frances coming? Who is with her?"