Lemprière laughed. “You owe it to the lady; and I doubt you can properly pay the debt,” he answered, with a toss of the head; for had not the lady refused him, the Seigneur of Rozel, six feet six in height, and all else in proportion, while this gentleman was scarce six feet. “We can have no quarrel upon the point,” answered De la Forêt, reaching out his hand; “you have at least done tough work for her, and if I cannot pay in gold I can in kind. It was a generous deed, and it has made a friend forever of Michel de la Forêt.” “Raoul Lemprière of Rozel they call me, Michel de la Forêt, and, by Rollo the Duke, but I’ll take your word in the way of friendship, as the lady yonder takes it for riper fruit! Though, faith, ’tis fruit of a short summer, to my thinking.” All this while Buonespoir the pirate, his face covered with blood, had been swearing by the little finger of St. Peter that each Jerseyman there should have the half of a keg of rum. He went so far in gratitude as to offer the price of ten sheep which he had once secretly raided from the Seigneur of Rozel and sold in France, for which he had been seized on his later return to the island and had escaped without punishment. Hearing, Lemprière of Rozel roared at him in anger: “Durst speak to me! For every fleece you thieved I’ll have you flayed with bowstrings if ever I sight your face within my boundaries.” “Then I’ll fetch and carry no more for M’sieu’ of Rozel,” said Buonespoir, in an offended tone, but grinning under his reddish beard. “When didst fetch and carry for me, varlet?” Lemprière roared again. “When the Seigneur of Rozel fell from his horse, overslung with sack, the night of the royal duke’s visit, and the footpads were on him, I carried him on my back to the lodge of Rozel Manor. The footpads had scores to settle with the great Rozel.” For a moment the seigneur stared, then roared again, but this time with laughter. “By the devil and Rollo, I have sworn to this hour that there was no man in the isle could have carried me on his shoulders. And I was right, for Jersiais you’re none, neither by adoption nor grace, but a citizen of the sea.” He laughed again as a wave swept over them, drenching them, and a sudden squall of wind came out of the north. “There’s no better head in the isle than mine for measurement and thinking, and I swore no man under eighteen stone could carry me, and I am twenty-five--I take you to be nineteen stone, eh?” “Nineteen, less two ounces,” grinned Buonespoir. “I’ll laugh De Carteret of St. Ouen’s out of his stockings over this,” answered Lemprière. “Trust me for knowing weights and measures! Look you, varlet, thy sins be forgiven thee. I care not about the fleeces, if there be no more stealing. St. Ouen’s has no head--I said no one man in Jersey could have done it--I’m heavier by three stone than any man in the island.”