There was no time for longer or plainer speech. The guns began a royal salute, their muzzles fortunately directed towards the sea—for many of the pieces had been charged for ball practice. This somewhat dangerous demonstration was followed by a dropping fire of blank cartridge from the matchlocks of the foot, and then by general acclamations of "Vive le Roi" from all ranks. Then Philip de Carteret, Seigneur of S. Ouen, being called to the front, received the congratulations of the king on the appearance of the forces, in which, under the lieutenant-governor, his uncle, he held the chief command. He was then bidden to kneel, touched with the royal sword, and told to "Rise, Sir Philip de Carteret." The eighteen stand of colours were displayed on the outer sides of the columns. Again the drums beat, the trumpets blew, and with the same state as that in which he had arrived, the king was escorted back to the castle.
As soon as Charles and his followers had been relieved of their full dress they renewed the conversation in which they had been interrupted on the sands, Elliot first endeavouring to improve the occasion into an argument against the king's remaining in Jersey.
"That malapert bumpkin will be no friend either to me or to your majesty," he said. "At himself I snap my fingers. But it seems to me there are some two thousand of them who cry 'Vive le Roi' for half a pistole, but would cry 'Vivent nous autres' for nothing. If the French land here they will turn against you at once. If the Parliament prevail they will submit, willy nilly. And your majesty may feel no ailment, yet have to be attended by the surgeon who cured your father."
"Whither should I go hence?" asked the other. "The news of Ireland is hardly such as to give colour to Ormonde's invitation."
"I have told you what to do, sir, but got small thanks for my pains. Think on it well. Now, by your leave I must attend to affairs of my own. May I find you in a wiser mood when I return!"
"Farewell, then, Tom," said Charles. "But beware of poaching on a Jersey manor!"
"There are no game laws here, or if there be the keeper is away." With these words Elliot retired with a careless bow, and the king waved his hand gaily as he disappeared.
The forward young man bent his way, as often before, in the direction of Maufant. On entering the garden he saw the lady of the manor—a rose among the roses, as Malherbe might have said. The moment she perceived Elliot she stood sternly, and with dilated eye before the entry of the house, as if to bar the way, the united blazon of her husband's ancestors and her own appearing above her head like a crest of battle.
"Why so stern, fair lady?" demanded the courtier, saluting her, "And why alone?"
"My sister is not here," said Mme. de Maufant, answering but the second of Elliot's questions. "She has spoken with you for the last time, Mr. Elliot. I hope that I too have the same advantage. You should go home, Monsieur, to your wife."