half fainting, into a stone seat by the house door.

Elliot strode off, smarting with the sting of his well-merited
humiliation. A brief moment of reflection was enough to show its
probable origin. It was evident that the secret of his marriage had
found its way to the manor, where the court he had been paying to
Marguerite had consequently ceased to be regarded as a harmless
gallantry, and come to be taken for insult, as indeed it deserved. Nor
was it difficult to go on to guess the channel of this information. Le
Gallais was Marguerite's acknowledged lover, the person who would
benefit by the removal of a fascinating dog like Elliot--a formidable
rival, as he flattered himself such as he must be to a bumpkin officer
of militia. How Le Gallais could have learned the fact of his having a
wife in France might be a harder question, but it was one that was not
material. Revenge would be equally sweet, whether that were answered or
not.

Full of these thoughts the groom of the chamber stalked on to S. Helier.
On reaching the quay, he came to "The White Ship"--a tavern frequented
alike by the officers of the garrison and by those of the island
militia. The parlour was full of men, some in uniform, some in plain
clothes, smoking, drinking, playing cards--a scene of Teniers. One of
the first faces on which his eye fell was that of Le Gallais, who sprang
from his chair on Elliot's entrance, but was restrained by his
neighbours, and sat down watching the intruder's movements with glaring
eye. Striding up to the hearth, and standing with his back to it, the
cavalier broke into a forced laugh.

"Strange company you keep, gentlemen. I spy one among you whom you had
better put forth without delay."