"Your King, urged by his necessities, would sell you to the French?"
"It shall not be!" cried Carteret, with a fierce oath. "Let me see your General's terms. Better an English Parliament than a Popish King." He called into the corridor, "Bring the best bottle of wine that is left in my cellar!"
Le Gallais handed him the note containing the heads of Haine's terms. "Perhaps, messire, you would consult with your council?" he asked.
"'A quoi bon?" said Carteret. "You heard what the States carried by acclamation, in October, 1649? All who are with me are of the same mind still." The wine was brought. "What was said then in a triumph, I say now in the day of my downfall; Captain, fill your glass! 'England for ever! England above all!'"
The happy effect of this unexpected but welcome end of strife was soon made known throughout the island. In the towns and villages tar-barrels blazed all through the winter-night, and the best cider flowed free in the farms.
At Maufant all was happiness. The character of Marguerite de S. Martin had come out purified from the trials of the past two years, and the coquette-girl had grown into a woman, with but a lingering spice of mutinerie. Rose, happy in the restoration of her husband to all public honour and private joy, was anxious that her sister should partake in her happiness.
"Alain Le Gallais is no Solomon; that I grant you," so she concluded a conversation on family matters, which they held after the labours and excitement of the day; "but he can do his duty to his country; he has proved himself a serviceable friend. Take him, tel quel, my little heart, thou canst not hope for a better."
"Marriage is a slavery, quand même," said Marguerite, with a saucy shake of the head. "But it is not," she presently added, "I that will be the slave; and there is some comfort in knowing so much."
So the public and private troubles wore brought to an end at the same time. Carteret and his followers were allowed to go to France in peace and honour. Lempriere and he had held no intercourse since the surrender, but the Bailiff and his wife were honoured members of the assembly that gathered on the quay on the morning of the Cavaliers' departure. The rising sun threw his orange hues on their swelling sails.