The unlucky pleasure-seekers found themselves clinging to a little rocky islet which would scarcely afford them foothold; and all night they remained there drenched with rain and spray. At daybreak they were able to make out the coast of France, not very far away from them. By the side of the reef lay their little vessel, half in, half out of the water, with a large hole in her side. There was nothing that they could do but wait until some one should see them from the shore, and come off with a boat to rescue them. In a little while Harold and his men saw a stir upon the coast. Men were coming and going; looking towards the rock and then running to fetch other men. After a while a party came down to the beach, launched a boat and rowed towards the wreck. How thankful were the hungry, shivering castaways to get into the boat and be rowed ashore by these sturdy Norman-French fishermen! They entered one of the cottages; and as they were warming themselves before a blazing fire the door was suddenly burst open, and a man in a shining coat of mail stood in the doorway. Behind him were grouped a dozen or so of stout men-at-arms. 'Aha,' said the mail-clad knight, looking around him with restless, glittering black eyes; 'if I am not mistaken it is a great man whom the wind and waves have done me the honour to waft to my shores.--I am Guy, Count of Ponthieu; and you, if I am not mistaken,' he said to Harold, 'are Earl Harold, brother-in-law to the King of England.' 'I thought so,' muttered Harold as he gravely inclined his head in answer to the count; 'our troubles are only beginning.' 'This is not a fitting spot in which to receive the kinsman of King Edward of England,' said Guy in mock courtesy. 'I must trouble you, Sir, to come to my poor dwelling, where I hope a short stay may be rendered as pleasant as possible to yourself and your followers.' Harold groaned in spirit as he realised that the count was going to keep him in prison in the hope of getting a ransom for him from King Edward. With these sturdy men-at-arms in the doorway it was no use for the unarmed Englishmen to try to resist. 'My poor countrymen,' said Harold to himself; 'I wonder how much money he will force them to hand over before he consents to give me up? It grieves me to think of the good English gold which will go to the enriching of this greedy hawk.--And how is the kingdom going to be governed in my absence?--Alack the day!' The count's dark mocking face was all aglow with triumph as he led his prisoner where some horses were ready waiting for them. After a short ride they were in the courtyard of the grim frowning castle of Ponthieu, with the drawbridge raised behind them. 'You will allow some of my men to go to England and tell King Edward that I am here?' said Harold to the count. Once more Guy smiled his mocking smile.