breath of life to men's nostrils, and to adventure for what was worth
having or doing in life the only road of reputation.

Buonespoir was as much a champion in his way as Lempriere of Rozel.
They were of like kidney, though so far apart in rank. Had Lempriere
been born as low and as poor as Buonespoir, he would have been a pirate
too, no doubt; and had Buonespoir been born as high as the Seigneur, he
would have carried himself with the same rough sense of honour, with as
ripe a vanity; have been as naive, as sincere, as true to the real heart
of man untaught in the dissimulation of modesty or reserve. When they
shook hands across the trencher of spiced veal, it was as man shakes hand
with man, not man with master.

They were about to start upon their journey when there came a knocking at
the door. On its being opened the bald and toothless Abednego stumbled
in with the word that immediately after Angele and her father came aboard
the Honeyflower some fifty halberdiers suddenly appeared upon the
Couperon. They had at once set sail, and got away even before the
sailors had reached the shore. As they had rounded the point, where they
were hid from view, Abednego dropped overboard and swam ashore on the
rising tide, making his way to the manor to warn Buonespoir. On his way
hither, stealing through the trees, he had passed a half-score of
halberdiers making for the manor, and he had seen others going towards
the shore.

Buonespoir looked to the priming of his pistols, and buckling his belt
tightly about him, turned to the Seigneur and said: "I will take my
chances with Abednego. Where does she lie--the Honeyflower, Abednego?"

"Off the point called Verclut," answered the little man, who had