"Ma fé, yes! But they are getting it hot over there. If you take my advice, George Hamon, you will muster all the men you can and have them ready."
"How then?" he said quickly. "You think—?"
"I think what you are thinking, my friend. If they are beaten over there—and they will be, unless the Guernsey men are bigger fools than they used to be—we may see some of them across here again and in a still worse temper. If they make a bolt at the last, they'll make for France, and ten to one they'll take a bite at us in passing. They came to stop trouble before, now they'll come to make it."
"It's what was in my mind. I'll see Amice Le Couteur at once."
"B'en! and give the word to all you see, George," she called after him. "And bid the women and children to the Gouliots if they hear they are coming—the upper chamber above the black rock. It won't be just hide-and-seek this time."
"Good idea!" Uncle George called back over his shoulder.
"Common sense," said Aunt Jeanne. "I'd undertake to hold the Gouliots against the lot of them if the tide was at flood."
"And you really think they may come across here again, Aunt Jeanne?" I asked.
"Ma fé, yes, I do. They were angry men before, but if the Guernsey men have smoked them out they'll be simply devils, and it's just as well to look ahead. How is that arm of yours?"
"The other one's all right. I can do my share."