CHAPTER XII.

Of my second setting forth for _Normandy_, and in what guise I took passage.

I next prepared to start on my journey to St. Pierre Port; and, before I went, I tarried for awhile in the rude chapel of St Apolline, to say a prayer for myself and those good men whom it was in my heart to succour. But, my prayers ended, I must fare forth. And lo! even as I turned to leave the chapel, I heard the sound of hasty steps and voices, and already three of the pirates were in the yard, singing out--

"Come forth, master priest, and help us find our quarry!"

How my heart rapped as I made myself seen of them at the gate, and, with a gay face, fetched out a merry inquiry--

"What seek you, early birds, so soon afield?"

Never face and attitude surely so belied the man within; for, indeed, I doubted if my legs would bear me, and my poor heart, as I spoke, went rap, rap!

"Now, hast thou seen two runaways by thy gate this morning, master priest--one a stalwart, dangerous fellow, the other a measly, monkish lad? And, prithee, see thou speak the truth."

I assured them lightly none had passed save the fishers to their boats, and they seemed satisfied, till one, looking more keenly than the rest, came near to me, and, with a suspicious gesture, cried out--

"And thou hast not got them hidden up thy wide sleeve, good priestling? Come, we will search with a good will thy parsonage."

My heart leapt again. But I managed to ring out a laugh that sounded careless--

"Oh yes," said I, "gentlemen galore, and heaps of little beardless monks lie stacked in my poor house yonder. Bring them forth, good sir, and leave more room for me."

He led the way to search, but the others seemed unwilling, having good trust in him that I counterfeited, and all that might afford a hiding-place in the hut was opened and turned about--nay, the very holy rest of the chapel was disturbed as search was made, walls and wainscot rapped, cupboards forced, and stones prised up, the while I stood at ease peeling a light cane that I had cut from the wood.

"Now, good brothers," said I, lightly, as they stood at fault in the midst of the chapel, "are you satisfied I am no concealer of other men's property or persons hereabout?"

"Yea, we will press on," said one of them. "They have taken to the caves like enough, and we shall have a week's 'rabbiting.'"

"Then I wish you good morn," said I, "with a word of thanks for turning out in your zeal much old stuff of mine that I thought was lost and gone."

Glad was I indeed to see my three guests break into the forest opposite. So, with a thick staff for my luggage, I took the path that led straight to St. Pierre Port, six miles away. Without let or hindrance I passed on, imitating as I could the easy gait of Father Augustine, and taking care to greet all I met, of all conditions, who were about on their business that autumn morning, with such jests or merry speeches as I could muster.

Now, I have said already that Le Grand Sarrasin, save for his enmity to Abbot Michael, had as yet showed no unfriendly disposition to our islanders, except where they thwarted or marred his designs.

Therefore no ill had happed to St Pierre Port, its fishing, or its carriage of necessary things, or of persons. And though that heathen fortress could be seen towering up there miles away upon the hill, the good burghers of St. Pierre, finding their daily business not interrupted, made but little grievance of Le Grand Sarrasin's presence.

Wary of running into trouble, they jogged an easy way. Their boats came in and out. Their bales were landed and embarked. Nay, I have heard that it was their wont to hush the voices in their states council that were for craving succour of the duke, regarding one ruler, so long as he whipped not their backs too hard, as equal to another.

So I went into St. Pierre as into no besieged town, and without hindrance of any made my way through the winding streets to the harbour, where I hoped to hear of passage to Normandy. And the good father had told me of one Le Patourel, that would assist me to embark. This was a man not too well known to him, for too close acquaintance in this case were dangerous to me, but one doubtless ready to serve the priest if need be.

So I sought out this Le Patourel, as it appeared an honest trader, who took me without doubt for that I seemed. To my joy I found that a vessel, but just finished lading, would start in a short space for St. Malo, and the skipper was willing for certain silver pieces to take me for his passenger. These I paid down out of a sufficient purse Des Bois had pressed upon me, and with a light and joyous heart tarried on the quay.

Thither came by presently a bluff priest of the town church that was like to give me a fall.

"What, Augustine!" he shouted, so that all on the jetty heard. "Whither art thou journeying?"

"And that thou wilt come near I will tell thee," I replied, not knowing for the world his name.

"Whither art thou bound?" said he.

"To Coutances," said I. "My lord archbishop, you remember."

"My lord archbishop," said he, "thou shouldst know is far from Coutances at this season--for his health."

Here I was troubled, for I had told many that my lord had sent for me on a certain business.

"Ah, yes," said I in haste, "before he went my lord left letters for me that I alone can fetch. But I must go aboard."

"Stay," said he, "a moment! What didst thou in that matter of Sir Hubert? There is a like case of conscience here in St Pierre."

I hurriedly told him that it was not proper for me to disclose so nice a case of conscience, even to my dear friend himself. Whereat he looked strangely at me, I thought, and soon went on his way, wishing me shortly a good voyage to Normandy.

By three o'clock we sailed away. And glad I was to see this second time the highland of the isle grow dim and faint as we sped away with the wind behind us.