The three men looked doubtfully at one another for a moment, for this old
final appeal to a higher tribunal, in the name of Rollo, the first old
Norseman Duke, dead though he was this nine hundred years, was still the
law of the Islands and not to be infringed with impunity.

All the same, when the other sprang up and would have passed into the
cottage, Hamon declined to move, and when Martel persisted, he struck at
him with his fist, and it looked as though the fight were to be renewed.

"He makes Clameur, George," said Philip Tanquerel remonstratively.

"He may make fifty Clameurs for me. Let him go to the Sénéchal and the
Greffier and lay the matter before them. He's not coming in here as long as
I've got a fist to lift against him."

"You refuse?" said Martel blackly.

"You had better go to the Greffier," said Philip Carré. "The Court will
have to decide it."

"It is my house."

"I'm in charge of it, and I won't give it up till the Sénéchal tells me to.
So there!" said Hamon.

Martel turned on his heel and walked away, and the three stood looking
after him.

"I'm not sure--" began Tanquerel, in his slow drawling way.