reached a squalid row of houses on Tower Hill, where was situated the
only lodging within the present means of the Seigneur of Maufant.

"To-night thou must share my chamber, _telle quelle_," he said. "'Tis a
poor one, as thou mayest suppose. _Infelix, habitum temporis hujus
habe?_"

"It is all one to me," said Alain, lightly; "whether here or at Maufant
thou art always good."

As they neared the door a voice came to them from the shadow of a
projecting oriel:--

"Have a care, Jerseymen! You are betrayed."

They ran to the shaded corner; but the moon was young and low and gave
but little light in the narrow street. A figure, seemingly that of a
tall man, was seen to glide away into another street, but they failed to
recognise it or trace its departing movements. Silently, and with
downcast looks they sought the entry of Lempriere's lodging, the door of
which he opened with a key that he carried in his pocket. Striking a
light from flint and steel on the hall table, Lempriere kindled a
hand-lamp, and led the way into a small chamber on the ground floor,
where they wrapped themselves in their cloaks and lay down on a pallet
in the corner. The younger man, fatigued with travel, was soon asleep;
Lempriere, with more to think of, passed great part of the night in
wakeful anxiety. Before he finally sank to slumber he had resolved to
send Alain back at once to Jersey.