For what Philip had been as an admiral they would do his body reverence
now; for what he had done as a man, that belonged to another tribunal.
It had been proposed by the Admiral of the station to bury him from his
old ship, the Imperturbable, but the Royal Court made its claim, and so
his body had lain in state in the Cohue Royale. The Admiral joined hands
with the island authorities. In both cases it was a dogged loyalty. The
sailors of England knew Philip d'Avranche as a fighter, even as the Royal
Court knew him as a famous and dominant Jerseyman. A battle-ship is a
world of its own, and Jersey is a world of its own. They neither knew
nor cared for the comment of the world without; or, knowing, refused to
consider it.

When the body of Philip was carried from the Cohue Royale signals were
made to the Imperturbable in the tide-way. From all her ships in company
forty guns were fired funeral-wise and the flags were struck halfmast.

Slowly the cortege uncoiled itself to one long unbroken line from the
steps of the Cohue Royale to the porch of the church. The Jurats in
their red robes, the officers, sailors, and marines, added colour to the
pageant. The coffin was covered by the flag of Jersey with the arms of
William the Conqueror in the canton. Of the crowd some were curious,
some stoical; some wept, some essayed philosophy.

"Et ben," said one, "he was a brave admiral!"

"Bravery was his trade," answered another: "act like a sheep and you'll
be eaten by the wolf."

"It was a bad business about her that was Guida Landresse," remarked a
third.