"Seen anything of Torode himself, Hamon?" asked Tourtel.
"Haven't you got him? Better look if he's among our lot. You would know him better than we would. They're all down yonder. I must go and see after Amice Le Couteur. We left him bleeding at Eperquerie. Get anything you want from our people, Tourtel. Krok, you come along with us;" and we set off over the hill past La Jaspellerie to get to La Vauroque.
"Phil, my son," he said in my ear, "your work is cut out for you this night. Are you good for it?"
"Yes."
"For her sake, and your grandfather's and your own, we must get him away at once—now. Tomorrow will be too late. We don't want him swinging in chains at Peter Port and all the old story raked up. I wish to God you had killed him!—Mon Dieu! I forgot—you're you and he's your father. All the same, it would have saved much trouble."
"What's to be done with him?"
"He may be dead—Mon Dieu! I keep forgetting. If he's alive you will take him away in my boat—"
"Where to?"
"You want him to live?"
"I don't want to have killed him."