He knocked and shouted. Dormy Jamais, frightened, jumped back into the
street. Ranulph called again, and yet again, and now at last Dormy
recognised the voice.

With a growl of mingled reassurance and hunger, he lifted down the iron
bar from the shutters. In a moment Ranulph was outside with two loaves
of bread, which he put into Dormy Jamais's arms. The daft one whinnied
with delight.

"What's o'clock, bread-man?" he asked with a chuckle.

Ranulph gripped his shoulders. "See, Dormy Jamais, I want you to go to
the Governor's house at La Motte, and tell them that the French are
coming, that they're landing at Gorey now. Then to the Hospital and tell
the sentry there. Go, Dormy--allez kedainne!"

Dormy Jamais tore at a loaf with his teeth, and crammed a huge crust into
his mouth.

"Come, tell me, will you go, Dormy?" the lad asked impatiently.

Dormy Jamais nodded his head, grunted, and, turning on his heel with
Ranulph, clattered up the street. The lad sprang ahead of him, and ran
swiftly up the Rue d'Egypte, into the Vier Marchi, and on over the Town
Hill along the road to Grouville.