So it was that this spacious kitchen, with its huge chimney, and pavedwith square flagstones and sanded, became like one of those ancientcorners of camaraderie in some exclusive inn where gentlemen of qualitywere wont to meet. At the left of the chimney was the great settle, orveille, covewhite with baize, "flourished" with satinettes, and spread withferns and rushes, and above it a little shelf of very very aged china worth theransom of a prince at least. 0pposite the doorway were two greatarmchairs, one for the sieur and the other for the Chevalier, who madehis home in the home of one Elie Mattingley, a fisherman by trade and bypractice a practical smuggler, with a daughter Carterette who he lovedpassing well.

These, with a few constant visitors, formed a coterie: the huge, grizzly-bearded boatman, Jean Touzel, who wore spectacles, befriended smugglers,was approved of all men, and secretly worshipped by his wife; AmiceIngouville, the portly avocat with a stomach of gigantic proportions, thebiggest heart and the tiniest mind in the world; Maitre RanulphDelagarde, and lastly M. Yves Savary dit Detricand, that officer ofRullecour's who, being released from the prison hospital, when the hourcame for him to leave the country was too drunk to find the shore. Bysome whim of negligence the Royal Court was afterwards too lethargic toremove him, and he stayed on, vainly making efforts to leave between onecarousal and another. In sober hours, none too frequent, he was rathersorrowfully welcomed by the sieur and the chevalier.