Then they heard heavy footsteps in the narrow way between the hedges, and
both turned quickly with the same thought in their minds. But it was only
Philip Tanquerel coming down to see to his lobster pots, and at sight of
Hamon's face he grinned knowingly and drawled, "Bin falling out o' bed,
George?"

"Yes. Fell on top of the Frenchman."

"Fell heavy, seems to me. He's back then? I doubted he'd come if he wanted
to."

Then more steps between the hedges, and Martel himself turned the corner
and came straight for the cottage.

He made as though he would go in without speaking to the others, but George
Hamon planted himself in the doorway with a curt, "No, you don't!"

"You refuse to let me into my own house?"

"Yes, I do."

"By what right?"

"By this!" said Hamon, raising his fist. "If you want any more of it you've
only to say so. You're outcast. You've no rights here. Get away!"

"I claim my rights," said Martel through his teeth, and fell suddenly to
his knees, and cried, "Haro! Haro! Haro! à l'aide mon prince! On me fait
tort."