EPILOGUE.
Since the events related in the foregoing chapters nearly two years had gone by. Jersey had been saved from intrigues of the Queen and Lord Jermyn. Charles had gone to France, and thence to Holland, followed by the Duke of York, his brother, and later by Sir Edward Nicholas and the other members of his council and court. The lieutenant-governor, freed from even the slight control afforded by their presence, had given full scope to the worse parts of his peculiar and complicated character. More than ever was his administration of his native island marked by unblushing egotism. Oppressive, grasping, unguarded in speech, and almost unrestrained in action, he seemed, from one point of view, the model of a sordid, short-sighted despot, making hay while the sun shone. But he had a fund of caution which kept him from proceeding quite to extremes, and his energy and ability were undeniable, as was also his attention to business. Hence, while feared and even hated, he was still respected and obeyed. Most of the militia officers were his creatures, as were also—as we have already seen—the civil, judicial, and legislative officers of the little republic. The seat of his government was at S. Helier, while S. Aubin, on the opposite point of the bay, was filled with his skippers and their crews, and the traders who profited by their piratical proceedings. Hardly a week passed but some rich prize—usually an English merchantman—was brought in there, to be condemned by Carteret's court, and sold, together with her cargo, while the unfortunate mariners who had manned her were left to their own resources. Adventurers from all parts flocked to Jersey, to share the gains of this new and irregular trade, while the lawful commerce of England was menaced as with a cancer. With the resources derived from his maritime enterprise, joined to what he drew from his fines, taxes, exactions, compositions, and confiscations within the limits of the island, the unscrupulous governor was founding a sort of Christian Barbary, and becoming a hostile power no less than a public scandal. Nevertheless, he could on occasion make a generous use of his ill-gotten gains.[v. Appendix.] He sent money more than once to the necessitous court in Holland, continuing to do so until the king departed thence to Scotland. And he kept up such a stream of supplies for Castle Cornet, in Guernsey, as enabled Sir Baldwin Wake, the commandant, to hold out against all the force of the Parliamentary power in that island, and against all attempts by sea. Indeed this remarkable siege lasted longer than the fabled one of Troy, and the feat, however creditable to the handful of men by whom it was performed, and to Osborne and his successor Wake, was only rendered possible by the constant aid of Sir George Carteret. Most of all, however, did that energetic officer enrich himself, laying in fact the foundation of that greatness which afterwards culminated in his descendant, the famous Lord Granville, the rival of Walpole. He obtained from Charles a grant of Crown lands, including the escheated manor of Melèches. And he further appropriated to his own use the revenues of his personal enemies, the chief of whom were the exiled Seigneurs Dumaresq, of Samares, and Lempriere, of Maufant. It should, however, be added that he shed no more blood. In fact with the exception of the Bandinels and Messervy, Seigneur of Bagot (already mentioned), no one lost life for opposition to Sir George. He even attempted to conciliate some of his opponents, restoring Le Gallais to his post of captain in the militia, and empowering him to offer to Lempriere's wife the use of her house at Maufant, which he had confiscated. But that valiant lady resolutely refused to hold or inhabit under the favour of an usurper, and continued to occupy the lodgings on King's Cliff, though in constant straits for want of money. Marguerite, who, however wild and light others found her, was always faithful to her good sister, cast in her lot with Mme. de Maufant, with the consent of her own family at Rozel; and it was chiefly by her assistance that the expenses were in any way met. Le Gallais also lost no opportunity of visiting the ladies and ministering to their wants like a brother, to the great straining of his own slender savings. He carefully forebore to press Mlle. de St. Martin with a lover's suit, whether or no to that young lady's complete satisfaction we are not informed. In any case, her manner, though composed by trouble, gave no sign of the state of her feelings; and whether she was fond of Alain or weary of him, her self-control was equally to her credit. As for Alain, he seemed to be stupefied, rather awaiting ruin than expecting better times.
Matters were in this state, when one lovely day in September, 1651, Alain came before Mme. de Maufant and her sister as they sate knitting in the doorway.
"Great news!" he cried, as soon as he was near enough for the ladies to hear. "Great news! General Cromwell has thoroughly purged the garner. He has beaten and scattered the Scots at Worcester. 'Tis said Charles Stuart their king is taken prisoner. This 'crowning mercy,' as it is called by the lord general, befel on the 3rd, the same day last year he beat these same Scots at Dunbar. 'Tis a great and a bright day in his lordship's life."
"Count no man happy till his end," answered Rose gravely. "A day of triumph may be a day of doom when God pleases. And how does this event touch us, thinkest thou, Alain?"
"Why thus," replied the young man. "The general is not a man to bear with our lieutenant-governor's oppressions and piracies for ever. Like Satan in the Apocalypse, Carteret hath great wrath, because he knoweth that his time is short. For Admiral Blake hath been collecting his ships at Portsmouth, and our informant says that they were to sail to-day, eighty vessels of war. They carry a strong force of fantassins, pikemen, and arquebussiers, with the new snaphaunces devised in the low countries. Their commander is Major-General Haine, Prynne is there as commissioner, and, best of all, Michael Lempriere is on board!"
Rose looked at him with swimming eyes.
"And Michael Lempriere comes as bailiff. He said that he would. And then, when your fortunes are once more high, and you have no further need of me ..."
Alain faltered and looked down. But for that gesture even his despondent mind might have been roused by the look that Marguerite cast upon him. But the dart was parried by the shield of an obstinate depression.