but it is droll that--a farce au diable! They have humour, these fisher-
folk, eh, gunner?"

"Mattingley will fight you just the same," answered Ranulph coolly.

"Oh ho, you know these people, my gunner?" asked Richambeau.

"All my life," answered Ranulph, "and, by your leave, I will tell you
how."

Not waiting for permission, after the manner of his country, he told
Richambeau of his Jersey birth and bringing up, and how he was the victim
of the pressgang.

"Very good," said Richambeau. "You Jersey folk were once Frenchmen, and
now that you're French again, you shall do something for the flag. You
see that 12-pounder yonder to the right? Very well, dismount it. Then
we'll send in a flag of truce, and parley with this Mattingley, for his
jests are worth attention and politeness. There's a fellow at the gun--
no, he has gone. Dismount the right-hand gun at one shot. Ready now.
Get a good range."

The whole matter went through Ranulph's mind as the captain spoke. If he
refused to fire, he would be strung up to the yardarm; if he fired and
missed, perhaps other gunners would fire, and once started they might
raze the fishing-post. If he dismounted the gun, the matter would
probably remain only a jest, for such as yet Richambeau regarded it.

Ranulph ordered the tackle and breechings cast away, had off the apron,
pricked a cartridge, primed, bruised the priming, and covered the vent.