“The deportment,” answered his lordship. “Every English subject has been ordered out of France. We are going to lose not only your company, Father Hamilton, because of your confounded hare-brained scheme for covering all Europe in a glass coach, but our M. Greig must put the Sleeve between him and those best qualified to estimate and esteem his thousand virtues of head and heart For a _louis_ or two I'd take ship with him and fight on the other side. Gad! it would always be fighting anyway, and one would be by one's friend.” The priest's jaw fell as if my going was a blow to his inmost affections; he turned his face rapidly into shadow; Miss Walkinshaw lost no movement of his; she was watching him as he had been a snake. “Oh! but it is not necessary that we lose my compatriot so fast as that,” she said. “There are such things as permits, excepting English friends of ours from deportment,--and--and--I fancy I could get one for Mr. Greig.” In my heart I thanked her for her ready comprehension of my inability to go back to Britain with an easy mind; and I bowed my recognition of her goodness. She was paying no heed to my politeness; she had again an eye on the priest, who was obviously cheered marvellously by the prospect. And then we took a dish of tea with her, the lords and Thurot loudly cheerful, Hamilton ruminant and thundering alternately, Miss Walkinshaw showing a score of graces as hostess, myself stimulated to some unusual warmth of spirit as I sat beside her, well-nigh fairly loving her because she was my country-woman and felt so fond about my native Mearns. CHAPTER XV WHEREIN A SITUATION OFFERS AND I ENGAGE TO GO TRAVELLING WITH THE PRIEST A week passed with no further incident particularly affecting this history. With my reduced and antique mentor I studied _la belle langue_, sedulous by day, at night pacing the front of the sea, giving words to its passion as it broke angry on the bar or thundered on the beach--the sea that still haunts me and invites, whose absence makes often lonely the moorland country where is my home, where are my people's graves. It called me then, in the dripping weather of those nights in France--it called me temptingly to try again my Shoes of Fortune (as now I named them to myself), and learn whereto they might lead. But in truth I was now a prisoner to that inviting sea. The last English vessel had gone; the Channel was a moat about my native isle, and I was a tee'd ball with a passport that was no more and no less than a warder's warrant in my pouch. It had come to me under cover of Thurot two days after Miss Walkinshaw's promise; it commanded _tous les gouverneurs et tous les lieutenants-généraux de nos provinces et de nos armées, gouverneurs particuliers et commandants de nos villes, places et troupes_ to permit and pass the Sieur Greig anywhere in the country, _sans lui donner aucun empêchement_, and was signed for the king by the Duc de Choiseuil.