"Your proposal——" began the Squire, but at this moment a dull splash was heard from the direction of the Beal. Dick and his assistants had displaced the rock, which rolled over the edge, bounded on to the ledge whence Dick had made his dive, and then plunged almost into the middle of the fairway. Even at that distance a few feet of it could be seen projecting above the surface. "Sacré nom d’un chien!" cried Delarousse, startled out of his equanimity. "Vat is zis?" "Some of my men have blocked up the fairway with a large rock," replied the Squire. "It is now impossible for your vessel to clear the harbour." "But zis is perfidy, monsieur!" cried the furious Frenchman. "Ve speak as parlementaires; zere is arrest of hostilities; ma foi! zis is ze perfidy of English." "Not at all, sir. The men had already gone to do their work; I could not stop them. You see your position, sir. I advise you to consult with your men and surrender at discretion." They parted. Delarousse, livid with anger, returned to the inn; the Squire rejoined his party. "We have the rascals," said Mr. Carlyon gleefully. "I axe yer pardon, sir," said Tonkin, "but don’t ’ee think we’d better let the Frenchies go in peace arter all? They guns ’ud knock the village to dust, and there’s the women and childer to think of." "Ah! that’s true," said the Vicar, and taking Mr. Trevanion aside, he began to discuss the matter with him. While they were still earnestly talking, there was a shout. They broke apart, and turning, saw that Delarousse had solved the problem in his own way. The inn fronted the jetty, but on its southward side a narrow lane ran between the blind walls of the pilchard fishers’ salting-houses. The further end of this was nearer by a few yards to the sea. Rendered desperate, the Frenchman saw in the conversation between the two gentlemen an opportunity for making a dash. He ordered four of his men to throw open a low window giving on the lane, and to rush John Trevanion as quickly as possible down to the jetty, while he maintained his position with the rest at the front windows. Then, as soon as he was informed that the four men had arrived at the end of the lane, he gave the word for all to follow. Before the besiegers were aware of this sudden movement, the Frenchmen had gained a start of more than fifty yards. "After them, my men!" cried the Squire, when he saw them rushing from behind the wall of the salting-house towards the jetty.