than you deserve, and no worse. One thing balances another."

The man's cool impeachment and defence of himself irritated Philip, the
more so because Guida was present, and this gentlemanly vagrant had him
at advantage.

"You paid no entrance fee here; you stole in through a hole in the wall.
You should have been hanged."

"Monsieur d'Avranche!" said Guida reproachfully, turning round from the
fire.

Detricand's answer came biting and dry. "You are an officer of your
King, as was I. You should know that hanging the invaders of Jersey
would have been butchery. We were soldiers of France; we had the
distinction of being prisoners of war, monsieur."

This shot went home. Philip had been touched in that nerve called
military honour. He got to his feet. "You are right," he answered with
reluctant frankness. "Our grudge is not individual, it is against
France, and we'll pay it soon with good interest, monsieur."

"The individual grudge will not be lost sight of in the general, I hope?"
rejoined Detricand with cool suggestion, his clear, persistent grey eye
looking straight into Philip's.

"I shall do you that honour," said Philip with mistaken disdain.

Detricand bowed low. "You will always find me in the suite of the Prince
of Vaufontaine, monsieur, and ready to be so distinguished by you."