"And these are Englishmen!" added Oswald.
Hoping to pacify the clamorous throng ashore, the man-at-arms shouted that he and his comrades were Englishmen, but either the words were lost in the howling of the wind and the roar of the breakers, or the shoremen were convinced that since the wrecked craft was of foreign build the crew must likewise be foreigners. But, whatever view they took of the situation, the mob showed no signs of abating their hostility.
At this juncture a horseman appeared on the edge of the cliffs to the right of the gorge. For a brief space he took in the strange scene beneath him, then, unhesitatingly, he urged his steed down the steep declivity. Often the intrepid rider was standing in his stirrups as the horse slid on its haunches; more than once a mass of chalk slipped away from under the beast's forefeet and came crashing on to the beach below; but the daring horseman never ceased his downward way till he gained the shore and tore up to the crowd of expectant wreckers.
Although the new-comer was evidently a man of some position he did not, at first, have things his own way. Voices were raised in angry protest, twice or thrice knives gleamed in the air, but by sheer force of will the horseman succeeded in calming the more turbulent members of the assembly.
This done he forced his horse through the waves, till up to the girths in water, he came within a spear's length of the stranded craft.
"Throw me yon rope; follow me, your lives are safe!" he shouted.
With that Gripwell heaved the line, and struggling through the strong under-tow the four members of the crew gained the land.
"Who are ye, and whence came ye?" demanded their rescuer.
"We are Englishmen escaped from France," replied Gripwell.
"There, did I not say so?" asked the horseman turning towards the still surging crowd. "Fie on ye."