CHAPTER IX.
Of our battle on the rocks of Jersey Isle, and how Simon gave up his life, and how I was taken captive and brought back.
The pirates had put off in two long-boats, and in a short space of time entered the creek, and climbed across our boat to shore—if shore it could be called, where the rocks stood broken into such strange and rude shapes, and where the footing amid them was so rough. I had no doubt of their errand, for each man had a great ugly naked weapon in his hand, such as we bore ourselves, only heavier.
Up the cliff they clambered, and soon spied us in our fastness.
"Come out, ye spies," they shouted; "come out, cursed rats, or we will come and slay you where you stand."
Our hearts panted to answer, but we said naught. Then they in a moment changed their tone, and two approaching more civilly, spoke with us almost at the entry of our fast place. Fair words they used, saying that their captain had business of great import with certain stalwart seamen of Jersey that day, and begged us for our own advantage to come down aboard their ship.
"And who is your captain?" curiously asked Renouf.
The rogue dissembled not. "Our captain is Le Grand Geoffroy, Lord of Guernsey, and his aide-de-camp, Mahmud le Terrible, is even now on board of yonder craft."
"Then, hark you, Sarrasin dog!" said Simon. "Sooner will we three die on this rock as good men and true to the law of God and man, than have parley further in anywise with you and your men of blood."